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screampied · 3 days
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toji realizes he’s in love with you when he lets you shave his face for the first time,
he’s got the biggest grump of a scowl plastered on his naturally crooked lips. as he’s glowering, he’s also trying to prevent himself from smiling because you looked so cute. your touch with him was gentle—like it always was. after you wiped his face with a dampened face towel, you rub your hands against the lower part of his jaw. “soooo,” you utter, breaking the dead silence as he’s just peering down at you. “tell me ‘bout your day, toji.”
with the palms of your hands tenderly caressing against his chiseled jawline—you smear every part of his chin and cheekbones with shaving cream. even the secluded areas underneath his nose. as you do so, toji tchs. “day was fine, baby. ‘n i told ya i can shave myself.”
“i know i know,” you hum, creating a circular motion with your hands before gently making sure every sector near the lower part of his face was lathered with nice frothy amounts of shaving cream. “wowww, you’ve got such soft skin. skin routine when?”
“ugh, y’er insufferable,” he rolls his eyes. although, his skin was surprisingly clear. toji only had a bit of a stubble, hardly any facial hair but it was growing the more he aged. you took it upon yourself to ask to help him shave and he said yes, not realizing how much he’d soon grow to like it. the feeling of your delicate, warm hands rubbing against his face was somewhat . . soothing. with a deep, heaving sigh, toji’s hooded jade eyes meet yours. he spots your pout and his shoulders lower. “alright fine, i’ll teach you one day. only if ya stop poutin'..”
with a cheeky grin, your little pout falters and you smile. “okay,” and you wait for about a good three minutes to allow the spumous cream to souse everywhere on his pores. it takes a while—and as you wait, you take a moment to stare at his features. toji was definitely easy on the eyes up close. naturally long black lashes of his flicker as he returns your loving gaze, and he avoids eye contact for a moment. perhaps you were making him a bit . . nervous. darkened eyebrows of his arch into an almost sheepish raise while he watches your adorable curious simper stretch further. “don’t be so stiff, what are you, nervous?”
“not nervous. jus’ don’t want ya to cut my face off.” he grumbles in a hoarse tone, ogling intently at you opening the bathroom cabinet for his razor. “you know what y’er doin’ right? i’d like ‘ta keep my face.”
“oh, don’t be dramatic,” and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. toji’s got a growing smirk tugging against his lips as he gawks you carefully start to shave in the exact sectors of where his facial hair resides. you did lots and lots of research—he knew this because he caught you reading various wikiHow articles on how to shave a guy’s face correctly. toji would never in a million years tell you, but he found that fact entirely adorable. you made sure you knew how to avoid burns and razor bumps. as you’re fixated on his chin, you mumble, “you’ll keep your pretty face, don’t cry.”
“aw, think ‘m pretty?” toji says, and you see the playful glint in his eyes. he’s easing up a bit, and he acknowledges that you were right. right about his stiffness, he was a bit tense. shoulders raised and all, but now—as of late, he’s starting to calm down a bit the more you talk to him. “i’d prefer the term 'handsome' but that works too, i guess.”
you deadpan, continuing your trail against his face—the razor sings out a shrieking tiiiing the more you gingerly shave with soft, gentle strokes.
it’s somewhat relaxing with the way the edges of the instrument adapts to the chiseled contours on his face. the foam starts to come off within each downward stroke and you’re very slow and precise. “okay, don’t be cocky,” you titter, and he feels his heart flutter a bit at how you’re just so dedicated. you’re so focused that your tongue briefly sticks out of your mouth, trying to make sure you do it perfectly. you tried your hardest not to cut him—you were so careful and that simple detail alone could have been enough for him to propose. “you should let me do this more. ‘s kinda fun.”
“eh. maybe,” toji shrugs, his voice coming out in a rough rasp. he doesn’t even realize it but his expressions significantly soften. he was only this way around you. to him, the thought of that was kind of scary. after you start to edge with the precision trimmer and reach underneath his nose and chin, you wrap it up. successfully discarding all of the foamy cream from his face, spotting his now clean jawline, you break away to rinse off the now grubby blades in the sink. “all done?”
“wait— don’t look yet,” you gasp, preventing him from gazing at himself in the mirror. “i still have to do the uh . . what’s it called again?”
toji snickers. “aftershave, baby.”
“aftershave,” you repeat. “right right,” and you’re so cute, kneeling down towards the wooden cabinet directly underneath the sink. you take out the mini bottle, pouring a nice goopy amount into your palm. you let toji wash his face with cold water first, patting it dry, and then you start to bedaub the facial balm in all the sensitive areas against his skin. he adores the mushy texture of your hands making contact with his face as each second passes. toji’s eyeing you, an almost grunt leaving his lips as a thumb of yours gently tickles against his infamous scar. the scar that slants itself near the right side of his lip. “thereee we go,” you give him a soft smile, the aromatic scent of tea tree oil setting against your nostrils. up close, his pores were now all so clear and you stare in awe for a bit at just how charming he was. the moisture that lays against his skin feels a lot more smooth. you grow silent for a moment before your own face softens. “okayyy, ‘m done.”
toji finally glances into the mirror, seeing his freshly new spotless face and he sees your proud toothy grin in the mirror’s reflection behind him. he cranes his neck to the side, feeling the once rough texture of his jawline now soft. he then lets off a tiny exhale. “looks good. y’er a natural,” and he turns to face you, he’s pondering on what to say. oh, your eyes sparkled with such admiration from his praise that it was just adorable. “thank you, sweetheart. for y’know . . takin’ care of me. y’er really . . sweet.”
and with that, his lips inch down to press a warm kiss against the crown of your head. your heart immediately swarms up with a frantic school of butterflies and so does his. toji prepares speak again and it’s an almost inaudible mumble. you could barely even register what he said at first because it was so hushed, but toji gruffs in a low tone. “i … love you..”
“h- huh?”
scoffing, he hides the burning embarrassed flush against his face by pulling you into his broad chest. you giggle at how he just abruptly snatches you close into his warm body before he slings a beefy arm around you. “i said, let’s uh.. do our skin care together later t’night.”
“awww i love you too toj—”
“oh my god, s-shut up..”
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pucksandpower · 24 hours
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Puppy Love
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of the tiny sausage dog who seems to take up every second of your boyfriend’s attention … but it sure feels nice when Leo decides he’s a mama’s boy and Charles gets a taste of his own medicine
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You stroll into the spacious living room, eyes narrowing as you spot Charles sitting on the couch, a tiny dachshund puppy curled up contentedly on his lap. “Charles … what is that?”
He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Meet Leo, our new puppy.”
You shake your head slowly. “Our puppy? I don’t recall agreeing to get a dog.”
Charles scratches Leo’s velvety ears, eliciting a blissful tail thump. “I know, I know. But look how cute he is! I couldn’t resist.”
Crossing your arms, you try your best to seem stern despite the puppy’s heart-melting adorableness. “We haven’t even discussed this. A dog is a huge responsibility.”
“I’ve thought it through,” Charles insists. “Leo is the perfect breed for our lifestyle — small, low maintenance, and they make amazing companions.” He holds the drowsy pup up with a beseeching expression. “How can you say no to this face?”
You bite your lip, wavering. The puppy really is criminally cute with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long body. “Well … I suppose we could give it a trial run,” you concede. “But you’re taking care of him.”
Charles beams. “Deal! You’ll fall in love, I promise.” He sets Leo back on his lap, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Who’s the best boy? You are!”
Watching them bond, a prickle of jealousy stirs in your chest. Is this what you signed up for — playing second fiddle to a canine?
Over the following days, Charles is utterly smitten, devoting every spare moment to Leo. He takes the pup everywhere, cooing over him incessantly and showering him with treats and toys. Meanwhile, you often find yourself … ignored.
“Charles? Are you listening?” You frown as he doesn’t respond, too busy dangling a chew rope just out of Leo’s reach in a teasing game.
You huff out a sigh. “I guess I’ll just make dinner for one then.”
Finally, he glances up with a distracted, “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”
Throwing up your hands, you stalk into the kitchen, simmering with a childish sense of being replaced in your boyfriend’s affections. Stupid dog ...
A few nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when Charles appears in the doorway, Leo tucked under one arm like a furry purse. “Hey, I need to run out for a bit. Can you keep an eye on Leo?”
“What? Why?” You pause in the middle of removing your makeup.
Charles grimaces. “ I … may have waited until the last minute to get his puppy pads and food refilled.”
You groan. “Fine, I’ll watch him. But just this once!”
“You’re the best, thank you!” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before setting Leo down with a stern, “Be good for your maman, okay?”
He dashes out, leaving you staring at the puppy sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom floor. Leo blinks up at you, tiny tail wagging.
For a long stretch, you simply regard each other in silence. Then, hesitantly, you sink down to sit cross-legged. “Well? What am I supposed to do with you?”
Leo waddles over, sniffing at your knee before clambering into your lap with surprising determination for such a little guy. You tense, unsure what to do as he turns in a few circles and settles with a contented sigh, warm weight pressing against you.
Huh … he’s actually kind of cuddly.
Tentatively patting his silky fur, you admit, “I can see why Charles likes you so much.”
Leo’s only response is a sleepy snuffle, lashes fluttering shut. Despite yourself, you can’t resist smiling at how peaceful he looks, tiny paws twitching as he dreams. Maybe this dog thing won’t be so bad.
That notion lasts until Leo startles awake with a high-pitched yelp, legs scrambling as he leaps off your lap and takes off running. “Leo? Leo!” You give chase, wincing as his claws skitter across the hardwood in his panic.
Finally, you catch up to him quivering under the living room sofa. “Oh no, it’s okay!” You stretch out on the floor, clicking your tongue soothingly. “Come here, little guy. I’ve got you.”
Leo whimpers, but after a few tense minutes of coaxing, he creeps out just enough for you to scoop him up. You settle back against the couch with him bundled in your arms, murmuring reassurances as he trembles.
“Shhh, you’re safe … good boy ...” You press a tender kiss between his floppy ears, stroking him until his quaking fades to contented wriggles. As your apprehension melts away, a fierce protectiveness blossoms in your chest. This precious little soul is yours to care for now.
When Charles returns, he pauses in the hallway, tilting his head quizzically at the sight of you reclined on the sofa with Leo completely passed out on your stomach. “Having fun over there?”
You glance down at the slumbering puppy with a soft smile. “Actually … yeah. I think Leo and I are going to be just fine.”
A delighted grin spreads across Charles’s face. “I knew you two would hit it off!”
Over the ensuing weeks, you find yourself increasingly enamored with your four-legged child. Leo shadows your every step, bouncing around underfoot until you inevitably scoop him up to snuggle close. You start pushing all the throw pillows together to create a special nest for him on the couch. Charles teases that you’re getting a little carried away with spoiling the pup rotten.
“Oh, hush,” you retort without any real bite, nuzzling Leo’s plush cheek. “My baby deserves nothing but the best, isn’t that right?”
“Baby?” Charles arches an amused brow. “I think someone’s going overboard.”
You stick out your tongue, cuddling Leo closer with a playful glare. “Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous of our bond.”
“Hey, I’m not the one treating him like a literal infant!” Charles laughs, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s ears. But the puppy twists away with a protesting whine, burying his face against your neck.
Charles pauses, brow furrowing in a brief flicker of hurt. You think nothing of it until the same thing happens again at dinner … and on your evening walk around the block … and at bedtime when Leo kicks up a fuss about sleeping in his own bed instead of yours.
“Leo, come on!” Charles groans in frustration when the puppy darts under the dresser instead of coming to him. “What’s with you lately?”
He shoots you an aggrieved look, ruffling a hand through his tousled waves. “Ever since you started carrying him everywhere, he won’t leave your side. You’ve turned my own dog against me!”
You shrug innocently, scratching behind Leo’s silky ear when he peeks out to flash you an adoring gaze. “I can’t help it if he knows who his favorite parent is.”
“Favorite parent?” Charles splutters. “That’s my dog you’re talking about!”
You gasp in mock offense, gathering Leo up to press a loud smacker against his fuzzy head. “Don’t listen to him, baby! Papa’s just grumpy because I’m better at cuddles.”
Charles narrows his eyes at the giggling puppy now practically swimming in your embrace. “Is that so? We’ll see about that.”
He swoops in to snatch Leo away, cradling the squirming pup against his chest. “Who’s the favorite, huh? I’m the one who picked you out, you little traitor.”
But Leo simply strains back towards you, pawing at Charles’ arm with distressed whimpers until you take him back. He immediately settles with a contented sigh, licking your chin gloatingly as Charles gapes.
“Oh, that is war ...” Your boyfriend mutters, stalking away with hunched shoulders.
You blink after him in confusion before shrugging it off in favor of cooing over the dachshund. “Did mean old Papa try to take you from Mama? Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let him.”
From that point on, a constant battle for Leo’s affections rages between you and Charles. He’ll try enticing the puppy with treats or toys, only for Leo to bypass them entirely in favor of your open arms. You can’t help but preen victoriously every time Leo cuddles into your embrace with a sigh of pure bliss.
“You’ve turned him against me!” Charles bemoans one evening as Leo dozes contentedly on your lap, stubbornly ignoring the tennis ball being waved enticingly in front of his nose. “What’s a guy got to do to get some puppy love around here?”
You smirk, idly stroking Leo’s velvety ears. “Guess he just prefers spending time with his one true love.”
“Yeah, yeah ...” Charles grumbles, but you catch the fond curl of his lips as he watches you fawning over the pup. He flops down beside you with a theatrical groan. “Unbelievable. Replaced in my own home by a hairy sausage.”
You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t call my baby such things!” Scooping up Leo, you pepper his fuzzy face with smooches until he squirms happily. “Did you hear what Papa said about you? He’s just jealous!”
“I am not jealous!” Charles protests, even as his gaze tracks the gentle way you cradle the puppy. There’s a wistful edge to his voice when he murmurs, “Remember when you used to look at me like that?”
You pause, registering the plaintive note. Slowly, you shift Leo into the crook of one arm so you can reach out and cup Charles’ cheek with your free hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Aww, my poor baby,” you tease gently. “Don’t worry — there’s enough love to go around for both of you.”
Charles leans into your touch with a huff, darting eyes betraying how much he misses your undivided attention. “I’m starting to doubt that.”
“Well then, let me remind you ...” You lean in until your lips are a hair’s breadth from his, holding his gaze as you murmur, “I happen to have the world’s biggest, most annoyingly persistent crush on this one race car driver.”
A shiver ripples through Charles, his breath catching. Before he can respond, you close the scant distance in a searing kiss, lips molding hot and desperate as you pour every ounce of adoration into the embrace. Leo gives a disgruntled squeak at being squished between your bodies, quickly wriggling free to skitter off with an offended sniff.
You hardly notice, too busy mapping the contours of Charles’ mouth with hungry sweeps of your tongue, muffling his delicious groans by deepening the kiss. By the time you finally break apart, you’re both left panting harshly, gazes locked in a blissful haze.
“Still think I only have eyes for the dog?” You rasp, relishing the way Charles’ pupils are blown wide.
He swallows thickly. “You make a … convincing argument.”
“Mmm, I try.” You lean in to nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip with a sly grin. “But I’m more than happy to keep making my case ...”
Charles growls low in his throat, hauling you forward until you’re properly straddling his lap, bodies flush. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Breathless laughter spills from your lips as he surges up to capture them once more, hands roaming eagerly over your curves. In that heated moment, the puppy is forgotten as you pour all your focus into worshiping each other, affections firmly realigned.
Well … until a tiny bark sounds from nearby, followed by indignant grumbling and the patter of tiny paws. You reluctantly break the steamy kiss, rolling your eyes fondly as Leo hops up onto the couch to shove his way between the two of you.
“Easy there, troublemaker,” you chuckle, stroking the puppy’s silken fur as he clambers between you and Charles, yipping happily now that he has both his humans’ full attention. “See, baby? I told you there was enough love for all of us.”
Charles chuckles ruefully. “It’s a good thing he’s cute.”
You grin, leaning in to rest your forehead against his as Leo snuggles down with a contented sigh. In this perfect cocoon of warmth and adoration, you can’t imagine anything better.
And if the three of you stay snuggled up on that couch long into the evening, trading lingering kisses and delighted giggles as Leo’s little tail thumps happily … well, no one has to know.
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teddybeartoji · 17 hours
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
sometimes when toji fucks you, it's just so overwhelming that you go quiet. no loud moans or whines – the only sounds that manage to slip from your bitten lips are shaky gasps and a few mewls here and there. it's just too fucking good.
he doesn't pressure you to make more noise either – he knows you feel good without having to tell him so. he can see it and he can feel it; he reads your body like a book, he caresses your sides and kisses your neck – he knows your language better than anything else in the world.
your heels dig into his back as you pull him closer, deeper, while your hands press against his hot skin. you're pulling and pushing him at the same time, it isn't enough and it's too fucking much at the same time. your eyes cross and you can't think about anything else other than him; he's so fucking heavy on top of you and it almost feels like he's going to suffocate you. you want him to.
his lips are glued to your jaw and his hot breath fans your already hot skin; your eyes roll back inside your own head as your back arches off the bed and into his hold. toji uses the moment to slip his hand under you to keep you flush against him and it's all so fucking much. your breath gets stuck in your throat when he rolls his hips with precision, successfully hitting your sensitive spot over and over again.
"breathe, baby, breathe."
his voice has never been softer, more caring, than it is now. he whispers the words into your skin, he carves them right into your pulse point before pressing a kiss in the exact same place. it's intimate, you feel his love. he waits for you to do it; he slows his hips just a tad and waits. rough fingers find your warm cheek as he tilts your face to his, your noses brush and lips touch - he's everywhere.
you take in a shaky breath and he kisses away the tears of pleasure that trickle from the corner of your eyes as a reward. toji grinds his hips into yours without ever pulling out even an inch and he smiles to himself when you let out a quiet broken mewl. it's a silent cry, a tell-tale sign that he's about to get to watch you unravel in his very arms.
he doesn't stop pressing messy kisses all over your face as he rolls his hips against yours; as you cry out in his hold, as you tremble and twitch, as you whisper his name like it's your own personal mantra. you try to crane your neck to escape his overbearing presence but he doesn't let you – he moves his head with you, his eyes glued to your blissed out face, your furrowed brows and your parted lips, as he pumps you full of his seed. you're all he needs. your pleasure is all he needs.
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dmitriene · 3 days
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older!bf simon riley, with grey hair at his slightly shaved temples, when, after a while, the blonde hair dye washes out of his dark hair, exposing sparse gray strands that have become so from much stress.
crow's feet at his sulken eyes, appearing more visible when his lips stretch in soft smile, dark eyes looking at you lovingly, his younger gf that he cherishes so much just for the fact that you are always there for him.
simon is gentle with you, and more importantly, much more experienced than any young guy in your social circle, knowing how to treat you better than any of them, with more than just sweet words and fancy gifts.
he handles you like something more than just fragile, with his calloused fingers sliding up and down your warm and supple flesh in featherlight touch, sliding up your thighs and to your knees, legs dangling at his shoulders.
simon bends himself despite the small cracking in his back, the sound of which is lost among your shared languid breaths and your fleeting mewls, his hips slotting against the back of your thighs, meaty cock grinding in your pulsing cunt slightly, stretching your warm hole around his sloppy length.
he's staying close the whole time, with his hips rolling slowly and steady with each careful thrust, fat cock nudging against every single spot inside your gooey cunny, his forehead pressed against yours despite any sweat, calloused palms cupping your burning cheeks.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴.
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anantaru · 17 hours
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big cock alhaitham / wrio trying to fit his cock inside you mfmfmfmgmfmgm
synopsis. he's trying to fit his cock in you (struggling) <3
including. alhaitham, wriothesley
warnings. size kink & size difference, big dick genshin characters, dirty talk, petnames used: baby, fem! reader
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— alhaitham
"it— it's not working," you gasp, nails wretchedly scraping at alhaitham's bicep and your knuckles dwindling with how tightly you were holding him against you, at all times needing your boyfriend's heavy weight close, despite his solid cock not even slipping an inch inside— no matter how wet he's gotten you earlier.
he tries again, tries to nudge his fat tip into your little hole, all desires and doubts banished from his mind, only a single aim in mind, a crystal clear focus flashing in his eyes. ultimately, your body relaxes at how gentle his face was the entire time, as if he's got it all under control and you shouldn't worry about a single thing right now, only enjoy the pressure pinching at your core and how it threatened to break you into a million pieces.
he won’t fit he won't fit alhaitham won't fit but he so desperately wants it and so do you— your mind shouts out alarms to warn you yet again, repeatedly inform you that there wasn't a chance that you'd be able to get filled up by his heavy load tonight, not even get a taste of his swelling erection sticking mercilessly to your walls.
he's failing, his cock head messily brushing up into your folds, roughly enough to scratch a sob from your throat. but that's not a sound alhaitham wants to hear, he craves the noise you make when he slips it in, until you're overfilled with his cum and it's running down the insides of your thighs, staining the mattress.
for all that, instead of growing frustrated, alhaitham decides to gently cup your cheek with his free hand to pull your gaze against his, holding you like the most delicate glass threatening to break— then you feel it, right there, his heavy breathing even heavier and that look in his colorful eyes.
for a second, you relax and let him handle you, awaiting his next move as he looks down at you with a watery, toothy smirk, sighing deeply into his chest and exhaling through his mouth, a tender sound you never grow tired of hearing before his palm holds one leg further apart, your hole spreading for him.
the swell of your pussy lips and the glistening arousal on top of it made the scribe feel like he was on cloud 9, drunken by your beauty and so hard working to please his sweet darling— never any less excited to receive his heavy bulk inside your warmth.
your lungs burn when he goes slow again, chillingly so, even more undemanding that your curves melt like dough beneath his hands.
he's got you now, pushing forward yet always alarmed that it wouldn't fit again as in this one single moment, it finally did, and alhaitham almost eclipsed by the roaring of his blood in his ears when he's got to hear your pretty moan for real now— not just the frustrated ones of you wanting to have him already, but that one particular sound you'd always make whenever you, yes, take him, all of him.
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— wriothesley
"that good? you can take it?" hearing those words, it felt like the oxygen in your lungs was melting the moment you can hear wriothesley whisper once more, his wet lips ghosting over your ear shells and erecting goosebumps from your neck, "slowly baby, slowly, you don't wanna hurt yourself," he says, your body convulsing in both an ache and relief— and it's truly important for your health to keep breathing and stay content, even when you're fed up with his erection not fitting inside you that night.
"you're supposed to relax, okay? leave it to me, yeah?" he whispers, a slip of eminence soaring from his tongue to right beneath your trembling flesh— and ugh, it practically sparks all your excitement through your body and multiplies it by ten— your wet core and your puffy, little cunt waiting so patiently to be filled by him, only him forever and ever and ever on end.
"y-yeah.. that's it, baby, see.." nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling wriothesley manages to arouse from you each time, and you could certainly never get used to the feeling of his cock either, despite this not being the first time the two of you have been intimate together.
your back arches as your hole spreads around his erection pumping into your core when he manages to fit it inside, his massive shaft pulsing through your walls and sending shockwaves coursing into your veins, slick and sweat streaking on your skin.
his breath freezes on your wet lips with relief flaring through the watery gloss in your eyes as wriothesley kept his promise to you— starting out with experimental, little thrusts as his eyes closed of their own volition, his muscles tightening, his limbs moving while shifting back and forth a little, snapping his hips against your ass in all the right places.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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luveline · 2 days
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𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 
ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 
It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 
But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 
Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 
He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 
“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 
It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 
He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 
He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 
Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 
“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 
“It’s raining.” 
“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 
“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 
“How’d you figure?” 
Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 
Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 
“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 
You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 
Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 
“Why didn’t you just call me?”’
“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 
“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 
You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 
When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 
Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 
“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 
Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 
“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 
“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 
You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 
No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 
“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 
You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 
They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.
“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 
Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 
He put it back and felt like a loser for days.
“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 
The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 
Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 
“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 
The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 
Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 
“I’ll be right back,” he says. 
Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 
Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 
He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.
“Woah!” you say, laughing.
“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 
“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 
At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 
“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 
“Take the towels, loser.” 
You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 
Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.
Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 
You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 
“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 
Eddie just stares at you. 
“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”
“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 
“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”
“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 
“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 
Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 
“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 
“What?” 
“Eddie, are you okay?” 
“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 
“I don’t have any underwear.” 
“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 
Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 
Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”
Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”
Wayne wrinkles his nose. 
“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 
“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”
“I’m pathetic.” 
“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 
“I’m twenty one.” 
“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 
Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 
“Wait, where are you going?” 
“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 
Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 
“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”
“What if she says no?” he asks. 
Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 
Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 
“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 
Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 
Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.
Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 
“Get lost,” Eddie says. 
“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 
That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 
“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 
“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 
“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 
Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 
You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 
Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 
“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 
“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 
“It felt important at the time.” 
“Yeah?” 
You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 
“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 
“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 
“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.
Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 
“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 
You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 
“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 
You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 
This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 
“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 
“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 
You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 
“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 
“What am I doing?” 
“You’re rubbing my arm.” 
He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 
“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 
That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 
Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 
“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 
“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 
Right. Eddie should remember. 
“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 
“Too much?” 
“The right amount,” he says firmly. 
You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 
He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 
Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 
“Any warmer now?” he asks.
“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 
“For me or you?” 
“For me, duh.” 
Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 
“You think so?” 
“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 
You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 
You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 
“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 
“Super close,” he whispers back. 
“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 
“Yeah.” 
He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 
“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 
“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.
“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 
Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 
“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 
What does Eddie think about it? 
He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 
Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 
“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 
He can’t not give it to you. 
Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 
His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 
You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 
Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 
“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 
“You wanted to?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”
“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 
You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 
His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 
You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 
Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 
He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 
Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 
The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 
He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 
“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 
Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 
You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 
He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 
“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.
“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.
You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 
Eddie grins back. 
He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 
As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 
“Eyes on the road.” 
He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 
“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 
“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 
He sighs. “No, it does not.” 
“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 
Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 
You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 
“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 
“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 
You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 
You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 
“Then open it.” 
“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 
It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 
“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 
“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 
You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 
He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 
“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 
“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 
To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 
“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 
You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 
“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 
“Now who’s not funny?” 
You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3
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definitelysel · 2 days
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PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒
WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?
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featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.
synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.
warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)
a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.
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DILUC 🍷
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PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 
He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.
One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?
That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.
“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.
If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.
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ALHAITHAM 🌱
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PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.
Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?
Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.
“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.
“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.
This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.
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ZHONGLI 🪨
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PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.
"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."
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WRIOTHESLEY 🐺
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PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.
"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.
“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 
He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…
[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.
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NEUVILLETTE 🌊
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PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.
Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.
“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 
“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.
Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.
He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.
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a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??
don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.
©definitelysel
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839 notes · View notes
intromortal · 3 days
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PAIRING: bff!jay x f!reader x bff!sunghoon
WARNINGS: mdni. smut, threesome, oral (f!receiving), no protection, creampie, a little mxm never hurt anybody, name calling (slut, whore), praise, degradation, exhibitionism and voyeurism (?), choking, bondage, two dicks in one hole yessir, squirting, cum eating, snowballing, heeseung is a cheater, sunghoon is sneaky, i think that's all
WC: 5.4k
SUMMARY: you find out Heeseung cheated on you, but thankfully your two best friends are there to console you.
a/n: if this sounds familiar it's because it's an old fic that was originally divided into two parts! since i was not happy with it, this is the edited version. both parts together and with some changes💗
Jay peered through the crack of the door, one leg still not entirely in the pyjama shorts he grabbed off the floor when he stumbled through his apartment to find out who the hell was knocking so damn hard at three in the morning.
He felt his breath knocked out of his lungs when he found you standing on the old ragged mat citing ‘welcome-ish, depends who you are, and how long you stay’ that Jake had gifted them when he and Sunghoon moved, tears silently streaming down your pretty face.
He swung the door open and engulfed you in his arms when he noticed you shivering like a leaf. He walked you over to the couch, sobs starting to shake your body despite the comforting weight of his hands on your shoulders.
Sunghoon rushed in not long after, eyes puffy and hair all messy from sleep. He recognized your sobs as he walked into the room, his heart shattering with each sound. It had become a recurrence ever since you started to date Heeseung, one they both insisted was not a burden every time you felt bad about taking time off their day because of your fights with your moody boyfriend.
Despite it happening so often, Sunghoon never got used to seeing you hurt.
“What did he do this time?” Jay seethed.
Jay loved Heeseung like he would love a brother, but he did not think he could go on seeing him hurt you like this time and time again. You always put him on a pedestal, forgiving any harsh word he uttered, claiming he was a completely different person when not mad at you. He could not figure out why you didn’t seem to understand that you deserved nothing but sweet words, regardless of Heeseung’s emotional state.
You tried to speak through your sniffles, slowly calming down as Sunghoon drew soothing circles on your back with his warm hand under your shirt, raising goosebumps all over your skin.
“Take your time princess”, he muttered, his breath slowing to coax you into mimicking it, helping you calm down. “There we go.”
You sighed deeply one more time before gathering the courage to speak, doing anything to avoid your best friends’ worried gazes.
“I caught him cheating.”
The room felt unnaturally silent, their movements on your skin also stopping as they processed your words.
“I’m gonna actually fucking kill him this time Hoon,” Jay gritted through his teeth, his blood loud in his ears.
Your head shot to the other man, finding him with a deep-set frown on his face. He intertwined your fingers with his and gently caressed your hand with his thumb, not uttering a word.
Not that you needed it, his touch was always enough comfort for you. Both him and Jay your safe space.
“Wanna talk about it?” Jay asked, pushing any violent thought in his mind for later. You needed him there with you, and he would not let you down.
You shook your head, tears drying against your lashes and making them appear longer as you looked up to him pleadingly. “Just wanna forget about him."
Your back was propped against Jay’s defined chest as he sloppily trailed wet kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with one of your nipples while Sunghoon’s lips were wrapped around the other one, his fingers grazing your poor hole teasingly once more.
You had lost count of how many times Sunghoon had you coming on his fingers. He insisted you needed all of the prep you could take for what was about to come, the dangerous promise making you clench around his digits.
“Please just put it in,” you keened. Not that you didn’t enjoy being fucked open by Sunghoon’s fingers, but the thought of how delicious their cocks must feel inside you had you begging for more anyway. “I’m ready, please.”
Sunghoon cooed mockingly at your state, “Our baby says she’s ready Jay, what do you think?”
The silver-haired male just chuckled and grabbed his cock, adjusting it over your pussy from behind. You wailed, head thrown back against his chest when his red tip caught on your abused clit, the movements of his hips tortuous as he ground his member between your folds.
Sunghoon sprung into action and grabbed his friend's member, slapping it over your pussy multiple times, ripping out little pleasured whines from you. Jay was also affected, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he hissed at the feeling of his friend’s touch.
Sunghoon brought his hand to your mouth, his brows quirked up in silent request, you caught on immediately and spat in his palm. He used the wetness to jerk off Jay a few times, the latter letting a guttural moan from his throat as he threw his head back and started to thrust in Sunghoon’s grip, quite literally fucking it.
The hot sensation in your stomach felt unbearable as you watched the scene unfold, your own mouth hung open in a silent moan.
You tried to get the men’s attention back on you, your poor cunt craving to be filled again, but you were cut off by Sunghoon positioning Jay’s thick cock against your hole. You yelped in surprise when you it slid in one single swift motion, the sting you felt oh so delicious. You were both a moaning mess, unaware of Sunghoon’s sly smirk as Jay gave you no time to get used to his girth. One of his rough hands wrapped lightly around your neck while the other kept your hips in place, using them as leverage to piston into you, the heels of his feet pushing into the mattress at his pace brutal.
Neither of you noticed Sunghoon sneaking down to your core, the sudden feeling of something wet inside you other than Jay’s cock making your back arch and curses fall from your lips, the sensation like nothing you had ever experienced.
You made the mistake of looking down, only for the sinful image of Sunghoon’s tongue pushing inside your cunt as he grabbed the other man’s balls with his hands to slowly massage them to push you straight over the edge. You came so hard your vision turned spotty for a few seconds, a white creamy ring forming around Jay’s member as his own load shot right up into you. Jay’s moans as he fucked you both through your orgasms were nothing short of lewd, the roughness of his sounds so different from his slower thrusts, yet both of them working to prolong your bliss.
Sunghoon giggled against your sensitive cunt, swallowing a mouthful of both of your releases while you regained your breaths from your intense orgasms.
Jay was about to slide out of your cunt, but the sound of a ringtone reverberating through the room stopped his movements, his brows knitted as he waited for Sunghoon to go get it. You didn’t need to see the name on the display to know who it was, your body tensing right in Jay’s grip as anxiety flooded through your veins; talking to him was the last thing you wanted.
Sunghoon walked to the windowsill where he had left his phone to charge, a sinister grin widening on his features when he read Heeseung as the contact name on his display.
The air in the room was thick with lust and anticipation as he answered the call, acting like the situation he was in was completely normal. Like one of his best friends wasn’t still deep inside his other, right in front of him.
He only gave you a casual shrug of his shoulders when you glared at him, the warm dim lighting of the room carving out his features beautifully, but doing nothing to hide the deviousness of his expression.
“Hee, you need something?” Sunghoon said, his tone impassive as he kneeled again before you, the soft mattress dipping underneath his weight.
“She’s with you, isn’t she?” You barely heard Heeseung say before Sunghoon stepped away, whatever was being said on the other end now out of your hearing range. You wished you missed the bitter edge in Heeseung’s tone, a hint of displeasure at the thought of you with the guys so late at night. Had you not known better, you would have thought he was jealous maybe. Except you refused to indulge in that fantasy, your naive days were over.
Jay, being so intimately familiar with your emotions, felt your uneasiness right away. He moved to ghost his lips down your neck while his fingertips moved against the skin of your waist, an attempt to soothe your nerves.
You were grateful for him, his touch grounding and leading you away from your thoughts, the feeling of his warmth raising goosebumps wherever it reached.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” he whispered before taking the shell of your ear in his mouth and biting it gently, eliciting an almost inaudible gasp from you.
Hoon fixed his gaze on you before replying to Heeseung’s question, “Yes, she’s here right now.”
Your eyes widened at his answer. You expected him to deny knowing anything about your whereabouts, end the call and go back to pick up right from where he left off. But he seemed to have other plans.
If the way Sunghoon’s knuckles were turning white while gripping his phone was anything to go by, the man on the other end must have not had a lot of nice words to spare. You thought about all the hurt he had been causing you ever since you got together, the earlier despair turning into searing red anger.
You forgave him for so much. You were so dumb to think he would ever change, would love you the way you loved him. You felt your hands shake as you realized you had been nothing but a commodity for Heeseung all that time. Nothing but a safety net to always catch him if anything went wrong. You thought about all the useless nights spent awake biting your fingernails while waiting for a simple text back; anything that would confirm he was safe. His habit of going for late-night drives on his bike ‘to collect his mind’ after an argument always stressing you out beyond belief. The nights spent crying on the phone to Sunghoon and Jay, that truly always did their best to bring back a smile on your face. You’d promise you would end things with Heeseung for your own good. Yet, you failed to keep your word every time, the magnetic pull you felt to your boyfriend so strong it managed to always reel you back in.
This time, you were actually done with him. How dare he pretend to care about what you were doing? You refused to be his little plaything for a second longer.
So you made up your mind.
“Hoon,” you whined quietly, interrupting the hushed conversation taking place at the end of the bed. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to say what was on your mind. “Want to make him regret everything he ever did to me.”
The man in question flashed you a proud grin, one of his canines peeking out slightly, “I think I have an idea then. You okay with being watched?”
Your breath hitched in your throat at the lewd suggestion, lust pooling in the pit of your stomach. You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“Gonna need to hear you say it,” Jay spoke softly into your ear while Sunghoon looked at you expectantly.
“Want him to watch you two fuck me, please.”
“Anything you want, doll.” Jay grinned against your skin, teeth poking out to nibble on your throat.
Sunghoon retuned his attention to the device in his hands, and put Heeseung on speaker. “So? Can I talk to her? Can I see her?”
His voice sent a pang of shame and guilt through your body, one you knew he did not deserve. What he did deserve though was to know, to see how good his brothers were fucking you.
“Oh, you’ll see her alright,” Sunghoon laughed, sending him a request to switch the call to video.
“Sunghoon? Hello? What’s this all about?”
Sunghoon ignored him, his full dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration while he was too busy trying to get the perfect angle on the comforter next to his bed, opting to use the lamp as a stand for his phone. Once he was satisfied enough he stepped back a bit to check one last time before returning back to you and Jay, finally revealing you wholly to Heeseung; your naked form spread over Jay’s and your stuffed cunt on full display for him.
It was silent for a while on the other end of the call, while Sunghoon settled next to Jay, the side of his lip tilted upwards cockily. “Hot right?”
Your blood ran cold for a moment at how flat and detached Heeseung’s voice sounded when he opened his mouth again. “Jay? What the fuck? What’s the meaning of this?”
Heeseung was absolutely floored by the scene playing out in front of him. He expected you to run crying to them as soon as you found out about him cheating like you always did every time something went wrong between you two, just for you to crawl back to him in no time. That was what he was anticipating. A few apologies and maybe a dinner date to win you back, that's what it took all the other times. But this?
He wanted to end the call and drive to his best friends’ apartment, and then god knows what he'd do to them once he got there. But he also could not help but stay frozen in place, sitting on the end of the bed in his own dark room, chest constricted with so many conflicting feelings
Why did he think you had never looked as gorgeous as in that instant, with Jay’s thick hands all over your body? He should not be feeling like this. He should be way angrier than he was. Especially when someone else was touching what was his.
Before Heeseung could even try to recover from the shock he was experiencing, Sunghoon gently reached for your chin— fingers warm and delicate on your skin— and angled your face towards his, soft eyes holding your gaze reassuringly. He leaned down to capture your lips in a delicate kiss, the tenderness of it surprising you.
You yelped when he unexpectedly bit your lip, taking that as a chance to slide his wet tongue inside your mouth, savoring your sweet taste.
One of his hands cupped your face tenderly while the other traveled down your body, groping any inch of flesh he could reach, the contrast between the slow movements of his tongue and the roughness of his touch leaving you dizzy, putty in his hands.
You realized then Sunghoon had you wrapped around his fingers, his scorching touch the only thing you could pay attention to. A siren luring you to him with his inviting song.
He drew back slightly, smiling when he noticed you chase after his lips, “I think Jay might be feeling a little left out.”
Your attention was forced back on Jay as he thrusted his hard girth inside you once again, fucking the mixture of both of your releases inside you, your cheeks flushing at the lewd squelching sounds his movements caused.
You wondered how it would sound like if Sunghoon’s cum was also inside of you, your moans so loud in the room as Jay’s pace never relented.
Sunghoon inched two of his long fingers into your cunt to collect some of the mess seeping out of you and brought it up to Jay’s mouth, who obediently took them in as he kept eye contact with you, your head tilted back on his shoulder. He hummed at the taste and made a point to lap the fingers completely clean before releasing them with a pop, knowing how much the little show he put on affected you. Watching him enjoy eating his own cum did inexplicable things to you, and you knew it clearly reflected on your expression when he tried uselessly to stifle a little giggle at how desperate you looked right then.
His thrusts were teasingly slow and shallow. You needed more, so much more, your cunt desperately clenching around him. So you grabbed his hand and brought it down to your clit, big glossy doe eyes begging him silently. Jay was visibly amused at your silent command, but ignored it. He gave you nothing more than a bite on your shoulder, and moved his hand to rest on your inner thigh. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the chill of his rings, sending waves of shivers coursing through your body.
Sunghoon cradled your face and kissed you again, this time a lot more messily and wet, his own lust leaking through his composure. He pushed the fingers that Jay licked clean inside you unexpectedly, making you gasp in his mouth and draw back a bit with a string of spit following you. The way your airy moans resounded in the room had him think he could cum untouched anytime soon.
Despite having done a good job at keeping his composure, Sunghoon was getting desperate. Seeing you enjoy yourself brought him great amounts of pleasure, but his weeping cock had been neglected for far too long, and he knew he couldn't go on like that for much longer.
As if reading his friend’s mind, Jay slipped out of you with a grunt and left you suddenly empty and clenching around nothing. Sounds of protest bubbled in your throat but Jay’s hand harshly grabbed your face, his lips smashing with yours to shut you up, “Patience, sweet thing," he said as he drew back, his lips still ghosting over yours and eyes clouded with need.
He maneuvered your body towards the phone and slipped under you, grabbing your thighs to settle you over his lap, except this time you were facing his chest. Truth be told, you had forgotten about the fact that Heeseung could see everything, but now that you were aware of him again you could make out faint squelching sounds coming from the phone. Your eyes widened at the realization that Lee Heeseung was fucking his fist to the little show you guys had been putting on for him.
You already knew him to be a pervert, but this seemed like a new low even for him.
You wanted to think you felt utterly insulted by this new information, but all you could find within yourself was deep satisfaction. Ecstasy coursed through your veins at the thought of how humiliating this must be for him, how pathetic he must feel.
You were itching to make him feel even worse about his situation, so you mustered up the most distressed look you could manage turned to Sunghoon, swaying your behind a little to encourage him to come closer.
“Please Hoonie? Want you both to stuff me full,” you said as you wiggled your hips for the camera pointed at you.
You looked back at him when he didn’t comply right away, finding him with a slight arch on one of his eyebrows while he stared at you, clearly amused by your behaviour. You couldn’t question what his deal was, Jay speaking before you got even a word out. His voice was sultry, warm breath fanning over your ear and sending tingles down your spine. “Aren’t you a dirty little slut mmh? Begging to get fucked just to make Heeseung jealous?”
The way your thighs closed tighter around his hips at the name he called you didn’t go unnoticed, his rough hand clasping around your throat to squeeze lightly, just enough to keep you silent in his grasp. “You enjoy this, mhh? Being called a whore.” He brought you closer to his face, warm breath tickling your own. "You’re still thinking about that bastard, acting like a little slut for him, I thought you wanted to forget about him? Are we not doing enough?”
You struggled to shake your head in his grasp, prompting him to apply more pressure on your throat. “Words.”
“You are,” you barely managed to choke out, voice raw from being suppressed, even if for a short amount of time. He released you from his hold, leaving you gasping for air.
Sunghoon barely gave you any time to recover as he took hold of your wrists, just one of his hands big enough to keep them in place. You felt the smooth leather on your wrists before you realised what was happening; Sunghoon’s belt secured tightly around your skin, binding your arms together.
The way Jay talked to you and now Sunghoon depriving you of your freedom of movement made you feel like you were there just to be their cocksleeve, there to just be fucked. And while you knew they did not feel that way about you, ever the so caring best friends, this forbidden side to them made you feel things you never thought you would. You liked this, you needed them to fuck you like you belonged to them and them alone.
Jay interrupted your train of thought by sliding in your abused cunt, hissing at the feeling of your walls enveloping him.
“Still so tight, how are you gonna fit both of us, doll?” His hand came down to grab a handful of your ass, pushing you up and down on his cock, your tits bouncing before his face at the repeated movements.
Sunghoon moved to grab the phone propped on the lamp and finally addressed Heeseung again, “Still here? You’re enjoying this mhh? Nasty freak.” He punctuated the last words, almost seething at him. The smile that took over his features was feral, not the usual flirtatious grin you were used to seeing on him. "Gonna give you an even better view, one you will never forget.”
He pointed the camera towards you, giving Heeseung a clear view of you riding Jay, your ass slapping against his thighs. He fisted his cock with his free hand, smearing the obscene amount of precum he produced all over his shaft. He gave himself a few more pumps before he aligned it on your entrance, finally pushing in with difficulty next to Jay with a groan.
They both stayed still for a moment to let you adjust to their combined girths, though you knew you could ever get used to it, no matter how long they gave you. The stretch was almost unbearable for the first few moments, white-hot pain blinding your vision.
Jay threw his head back against the bed and let out a loud drawn-out moan at the feeling of Sunghoon nestled right next to him. His hand rested on your waist, the warmness of it an anchor to help you ground yourself. Sunghoon grabbed your bound wrists and pushed your body to lay against Jay’s fully, giving himself and Heeseung a perfect view of your overly stretched hole as the man under you resumed to gently thrust up into you.
Heeseung thought he must have gone insane when he had to physically stifle a moan at the sight of Sunghoon’s hips slowly matching Jay's movements, cock dragging deliciously next to his. He felt betrayed, not by you but by his best friends. He wondered how long they had been waiting to stick their weeping cocks inside you, how long they’d eyed you like prey without him ever noticing, how many nights they must’ve spent fucking their fists thinking about you while he pounded you sweet little cunt. He wanted to call them fucking perverts for this, but he knew he was not in a position to judge anyone. Not when he was getting off to the sight of your cunt stuffed by them. He might be even worse.
The sight on his phone was unbearably lewd to begin with, but your cries of pleasure made it so much worse. Never have you sounded like that for him. You were so fucking wet for them Sunghoon almost accidentally slipped out a few times. Heeseung thought about how snug it must feel, how hard you must be clamping around them, and he clenched his fist tighter to mimic the feeling, Adam's apple bobbing as your moans got louder. He wanted to be the one fucking you right now so badly, so desperate to cum inside you. Instead, he couldn’t stop a pitiful sob from escaping from his lips as he came without warning all over his hand in thick spurts, coating his skin and drenching the fabric of his shorts rolled down on the floor. He kept stroking himself, riding out his orgasm as pathetic whines fell from his slack jaw, even more shame setting in.
Your friends would have laughed at how pathetic he was had any of you kept their attention on him, but he was easily forgotten as Sunghoon bent down so his chest pressed on your back. He dropped the phone somewhere on the bed, denying Heeseung the glimpse of your hole being split open and leaving him with only the sounds and his imagination.
Jay’s pace suddenly got more frantic, his rhythm a lot faster inside you with his feet planted on the bed and hips slightly lifted to fuck into you, while Sunghoon’s were still slow and languid. You were lost in the pleasure by then, incoherent babbles of praises and sweet moans the only thing leaving your mouth.
“Has anyone ever fucked you this good, doll?” Jay asked, already aware of the answer but wanting to hear it from you anyway. In fact, it was all you could think about at that moment: how no one had ever fucked you so good, how they were ruining sex with anyone else for you, how every time you found yourself needy from now on the only plausible option would be to just go back to them and beg them to do anything in their power to make you cum; to use you how they better saw fit.
You eagerly nodded your head to him, eyes closed when you struggled to form words against their onslaught on your poor stretched hole, “Fuck- yeah, no one ever.”
Jay chuckled and you felt the vibrations of it on the skin of your cheek, his lips brushing against it while Sunghoon cooed at your enthusiasm. “Is that so mmh? Not even our Heeseung?” You were quick to shake your head.
“No, not even him.''
That seemed to only spur the men further, Jay’s thrusts becoming somehow more rapid and Sunghoon’s more precise and so deep you thought he was pistoning straight in your guts.
Sunghoon grabbed your bounded wrists and used them to slide you over their cocks, the slick mess between your legs coating their thighs too, leaving you no room for movement. All you could do was sit there prettily for them and take it, your mouth falling open and eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt them hit the spot deep inside you that had your toes curling at the same time.
“Your cunt was made for our cocks,” Jay grunted in your ear, one of his hands leaving your hips to grab your chin. “Gonna ruin you for everyone else."
You helplessly clenched around them even harder at his words, so snug they could barely move, throaty gasps and moans filling the air. You were basically dumb on their cocks, greedily trying to suck them in further. So they were not surprised when your front collapsed on Jay’s chest as you came undone around them, your vision blinded and hearing muffled for a few seconds from the sheer strength of your bliss. Sunghoon was still putting his weight on your back, his thrust losing precision and becoming rougher and messier, matching Jay’s erratic ones.
You still hadn’t come down from your high when you felt Sunghoon’s fingers trace circles on your puffy abused nub, earning whines of protests from you that got immediately swallowed by Jay’s mouth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip sensually. "Just one more, you’re doing so good doll.”
The coil in your stomach built once more at a frightening pace, and you tried to fuck your hips back against Sunghoon’s, but hypocritically tried to get away from their grips at the same time, the pain of overstimulation so good and addicting you didn't know what to do with yourself.
“Inside please,” you sniffled pathetically as tears formed on your lashes. Sobs heaved from your chest and eyes rolled in the back of your head when you came for them a final time, your breath getting knocked out of your chest as your essence splashed out of you, making a mess on both of their thighs.
“Did you just squirt baby? Fuck, that’s hot," Sunghoon moaned, his hips stuttering for a moment.
As soon as Jay realized what just happened he stilled his hips against yours and painted your walls with his hot cum. Sunghoon whined as he felt both of your slicks push against his throbbing member, prompting his own high to wash over him.
You all tried to catch your breaths as Sunghoon kept fucking the mix of your releases inside you, not wanting any of it to slip out and go to waste. Jay had to tap his hips a few times to get him to stop, the stimulation of his raw cock too much to handle.
A mewl left your lips when they carefully slid out of you, the emptiness so sudden you found yourself missing the way they filled you completely right away.
You were so spent you could barely move, but you managed a small smile when Jay kissed your temple softly, caging you in his arms while Sunghoon grabbed a towel to clean up the sticky mess you made.
He retrieved his phone too, taking note of the ended call, before opening the camera app and grabbing your ankles, parting your sore legs as far as you were able to take.
He pointed the camera down and easily slid two fingers back inside your pussy, earning tired weak sounds of protest from you.
“Shh baby, am only showing our Heeseungie what he missed,” he whispered, lowering his face down to your cunt and replacing his fingers with his tongue. He took as much cum as he could in his mouth, then came up back again and kissed you softly, tongue sliding some of the essences from his mouth into yours. He parted from your lips and scooted closer to Jay, repeating the same action. his hands gripping the other male's head to angle it backwards.
Butterflies wreaked havoc in your stomach when you looked at Jay, his eyes closed as he savored the taste, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed and licked inside of Sunghoon’s mouth, careful not to miss any drop.
Sunghoon parted from him with a smile and grabbed the warm wet towel he had set next to you, finally cleaning you up, careful not to stimulate you any further. When he finished, he took you in his arms and walked to the bathroom. He set you down carefully, hands hovering close to your body making sure you could stand up on your own despite how shaky your legs were, before stepping back and signalling you to pee. Your cheeks heated up at his suggestion, earning a full chest laugh from him, “I just fucked the daylights out of you, and this is what you’re embarrassed about?” He set a shirt and a pair of Jay’s clean underwear on the sink for you to change in before walking out of the room.
You were drowsy by the time you got back in bed with them, Jay whispering sweet nothings in the crown of your hair—sometimes giving you tiny pecks— and Sunghoon with his arms wrapped around your shoulders, one of his hands caressing your arm gently. You had no idea how you let Heeseung get away with treating you like he did when this is what you could have had all along. You don’t know how this was gonna change your relationship with everyone involved, but you decide you'll worry about it another time, the comfortable silence lulling you to sleep as the men next to you continued to swoon over you.
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tasteracha · 3 days
Text
the cat that got the cream.
a/n: well. i did it. also, i can't believe this is the first time i've written a daddy kink???? that's crazy. anyways. warnings: reader has a pussy, daddy!kink, minho calls reader kitten. SMUT - MINORS DNI. <1k.
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you knew minho was working; he had told you he would be occupied for the rest of the night with an apology and a kiss to your forehead, but you were horny and he has never denied you before. you pad into the bedroom, the only thing keeping you from being completely naked is his white button up shirt that you had been wearing all day.
“daddy,” you tug at the bottom of the shirt, rolling the material between your fingers.
“daddy’s busy, kitten,” he looks away from his computer screen for a moment and your face is reflected in his glasses. you look a little pitiful, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you give him your widest-eyed stare.
“i don’t want to disturb you, i just…” you trail off, taking a step closer to him. “need you.” 
“you can play with yourself for a bit, can’t you?” he asks, taking one of your hands in his and dragging his thumb against your skin. he returns his attention to the screen and lets go of your hand, and your body sways towards him with the lack of touch. 
“i tried,” you pout, but it goes unnoticed by him. “can’t do it without you.” 
“fuck,” he sucks in air through his teeth, glancing between you and his computer a few times. “alright, come here.” 
he stands and your entire body sings, ready for him to drag you to bed and have his way for you, but you’re stopped short when he takes his pants off and settles back into his desk chair. he pulls you by the arm and settles you into his lap, both of your legs straddling his thigh with his arms around you. 
no, not around you. reaching past you so that he could keep typing away at his computer. 
“what?” you turn your head towards his, leaning in to whisper your lips against his, but he pulls back. 
“i said i was busy,” he tuts, pushing your head back gently until your chin was tucked away against his neck. “get yourself off, kitten. i need to get my work done.”
you flush so hard you feel lightheaded - he wants you to get yourself off on his thigh while he works? you should feel offended but instead a rush of thrill sparks up your spine and your hips move on their own accord. your bare pussy slides against his thigh, the wetness from you collecting with every twitch of your body, and it feels good. 
the sound of your breathing pairs with the clacking of his fingers against the keyboard. you push past the embarrassment of him letting you use his body like this as he ignores you completely, as if you were truly one of his cats begging for his attention. you lean into it fully, bracing your hands against his chest as you roll your hips back and forth, back and forth, gasping when your clit brushes directly against his skin. 
“fuck, daddy,” you moan out to deaf ears, unable to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “feels so- so good.” 
you’re not close yet, but the feeling is so good that it doesn’t matter whether you come or not. you drift into the pleasure, your body moving on its own as you bury your head in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. you don’t realize how long you’ve been going at it until you start sweating, your muscles settling into soreness as you start to slow down. 
you also don’t notice that the sound of typing has stopped, but you feel the hands that grip at your waist as if they were molten hot, the pads of minho’s fingers searing into you like a brand. he tugs at you sharply, your pussy digging into his thigh in a way that makes your entire body jerk. he pulls you back and jerks you forward again, riding you against his thigh like you were a toy. 
“that’s it,” he whispers into your ear, keeping his pase fast and brutal. “you’re doing so good for me kitten.”
the praise filters through your head even though you truly weren’t doing anything, and as you come your vision whites out and the noise in your ears turns gray and staticky. when you come back to yourself you’re still on his lap, nestled into his body perfectly. 
“thank you, min,” you mumble, nuzzling him with your head and closing your tired eyes. 
“of course, kitten,” are the last words you hear, drifting off with a satisfied smile on your face, looking like a cat that just got the sweetest cream.
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moonstruckme · 24 hours
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request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other
Thanks for requesting!
cw: hospital, mention of surgery
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words
Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 
It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 
“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 
“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 
“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 
“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 
“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.
She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 
“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 
You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 
“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”
You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 
Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 
“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 
Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 
Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 
“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 
“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 
“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 
“I am,” he says. 
“But you’re so handsome.”
Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 
You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 
Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 
Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 
You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 
“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 
“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 
Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 
“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 
“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 
Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 
“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”
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heich0e · 2 days
Text
"can i call you later?"
the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.
"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"
rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.
you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.
rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.
"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"
your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.
"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.
you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.
"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.
you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.
"my train is coming," you say.
he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.
you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.
"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.
you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.
you call back to him just before you step into the station.
"rintarou—"
there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.
you smile.
"—call me later."
he calls you almost every night after that.
even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.
even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.
even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.
you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.
"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.
"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.
"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"
rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.
"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."
you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.
you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.
"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."
you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"
rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.
"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."
you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.
"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.
you fell in love through those phone calls.
you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.
you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.
he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.
"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.
you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.
in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.
"oop—hello?"
you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.
the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.
"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.
you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.
"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)
"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.
"i know," he replies.
it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.
you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.
"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"
you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.
he tilts his head.
"—wanna join me?"
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2hightocare · 1 day
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APOCALYPSE!
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Synopsis: In which your boyfriend loves doing corny things with you… he also loves doing you.
Genre: established relationship.
Pairings: boyfriend!jungkook x fem!reader
warnings: smut.. car sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up bro) creampie, praise, size kink, belly bulge, cussing, fluff at beginning and end, banter between couple, oral, overstimulation, squirting, making out, reader crying out of pleasure, choking, spanking, dirty talking, reader fucked ‘dumb’, mentions of ot7, they’re so corny it’s sickening.
author note 🗒️: wrote majority of this shit being faded as fuck so forgive me if it’s ass and ignore the mistakes (I’ll get to them eventually) js wanted to thank everyone for 3k🤍… writers block has been an thing these pasts months so sorry that I haven’t posted anything new. Here’s more of kuwtb oc and jk dating era 🤍
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“I should’ve brought my glasses,” you whisper, a loud laugh ripping out of Jungkook's chest. “I can’t see anything, baby.” You turn to your side before swatting him on the chest— a pout displayed on your face, before going back to your original position, looking up at the dark milky way.
“We were having a cute moment, and you just blurt that out,” your boyfriend quips, his eyes focused on your side profile. A small smile tugs on his lips as he sees you scrunch up your nose, shaking your head slightly.
“You’re so right, we are so corny.” You playfully stick your tongue out with a small “yuck,” before bursting into a giggle when Jungkook tickles your side.
“‘Can we lay on the grass and look at the stars?’” Jungkook mocks your voice, changing his tone into a much more high-pitched version to match yours.
“Stop! I wanted to have a moment like Noah and Allie,” you puff, a smile threatening to come out.
“Baby, you know they look at the traffic lights and not the stars, right?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you.
“Of course I know, but I feel like we would actually get run over. Plus, I like you too much to just let you get run over.” You shrug, your fingers pulling on the grass on the floor. Your eyes connect to the sky as Jungkook stares at your side profile— taking in every imperfection and turning it into another reason why he loves you.
“Like?” he asks, his thumb running over your bottom lip before tilting your head to the side by your chin, making you look at him.
Your heartbeat skyrockets as he stares into your eyes, the twinkle in them prettier than the stars you were just trying to see. Your stomach lights up as if millions of fireworks exploded in heart-shaped sparkles.
“Love.” You correct yourself, rolling your eyes playfully.
“That’s better.” Jungkook clicks his tongue, pursing his lips out. You let out a giggle, dropping a small chaste kiss on his lips before turning back to the sky with a goofy smile on your face.
“You believe in aliens?” you ask, cracking a smile from Jungkook's face— his dimple carving into his skin as he bites his bottom lip, trying to contain the biggest smile.
“Fuck yeah.” Jungkook nods excitedly.
“We are literally a rock when it comes to the whole universe. There’s gotta be something out there.” Jungkook explains, expanding his arms and pointing to the sky, as you nod happily beside him.
“I agree, my mom said she saw one of those spaceships or whatever they’re called,” you pipe in, turning to your side to face your boyfriend.
“You mean a UFO, baby?” Jungkook's face scrunches in adoration.
“UFO?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Unidentified flying object,” he explains, scooting closer to you— dropping his head to your bare stomach.
“I like spaceships better.” You shrug, and he laughs, adjusting himself slightly. Your fingers find their way into his fluffy hair, combing through it. He moans slightly, melting into your touch, closing his eyes, and dropping a gentle kiss on your abdomen.
“What would you do if an alien kidnapped you?” Jungkook asks, his voice muffled.
“Funny for you to think I would allow it,” you say nonchalantly.
You both could hear a hairpin drop from how quiet you both went before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “Smartass.” Jungkook laughs, jokingly biting your stomach and earning a small squeal from you.
Your laughs die down after a while, replaced by silence, the only sounds being your guys breathing. Your eyes flutter shut with a smile, small goosebumps raising on your arms as Jungkook runs his fingertips on your belly— outlining ‘mine’.
“Tell me about your books,” Jungkook murmurs against your bare skin.
“Wanna know about my current read?” you ask, your fingers tugging softly on his hair, making him look up at you.
“I wanna know everything about you, baby,” Jungkook coos.
“Corny.” You scrunch your nose, placing a palm over his face and pushing softly backward, making him laugh. “Tell me about the thick-ass book I bought you two days ago.” Your boyfriend drops kisses all over your stomach.
“The dragon one?” you poke his cheek, before letting your finger play with his lip ring.
“There’s dragons?” Jungkook gasps, looking up at you.
“Yeah, and they have sex,” you say with a smothering giggle, whispering the last words in a hushed tone, making Jungkook's eyes widen.
“That’s enough, baby.” Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow before shaking his head, changing the topic to the latest drama, including Eunbi and Yoongi.
“Lora and I saw them coming out of the guest room while you were doing cartwheels with Taehyung,” Jungkook chuckles, the amusement on his face rubbing off on you.
“You’re lying,” you gasp, your jaw dropping open.
“I honestly didn’t see it coming.” Jungkook bites his lip, containing a smile. “Do you think Yoongi is the sub?” he continues before bursting out in a laugh, you following along.
"It's going to rain," you observe after a while, noticing a lightning strike in the dark sky. Jungkook hums in agreement before sitting up. He holds out his palm for you to take, which you do, and pulls you up onto his lap in a quick, soft motion.
You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, adjusting on his lap and straddling him. His thumbs rub circles on your bare thighs.
"I want another tattoo," Jungkook murmurs, his lips pressing kisses along your collarbone and neck. You nod slightly, enjoying the sensation of his lips against your skin.
"Where?" you ask, holding his head in place with your palms. He bites his bottom lip, looking up at you with dilated pupils.
"My forehead, and it'll be your name," Jungkook says with a grin, making you roll your eyes playfully.
"You're annoying," you retort, pushing his head backwards, making him gasp dramatically.
"I think it'll look good, you know? Just got to pick a cool font," Jungkook jokes, poking your side, sending you squirming on his lap.
"You're never ever getting my name tattooed on you," you shoot him a glare, which he only responds to by sucking in his lips and widening his eyes before shrugging.
"I think your lips tattooed on my hip bone would be hot," Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.
"You're crazy," you pout, scrunching your nose as he gives your cheek a kiss.
"Yeah?" Your boyfriend smirks, his hands gripping the sides of your waist, squeezing softly, pulling you closer to him.
"I could go a fair bit crazy over you, baby." His lips brush against yours.
Suddenly, the air is knocked out of your lungs when his lips crash against yours. It doesn't matter how many times he has kissed you; you just can't control the utter madness of butterflies swarming your stomach. The fuzzy feeling fills your senses with every touch of his fingertips on your hot skin. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips against yours, all conspire to make your heart flutter with the same giddy excitement as the very first time.
His touch is electric, sending shivers cascading down your spine as his fingers trace the curve of your jaw, his hand gently cradling your face. With a tender yet insistent pressure, he deepens the kiss, his lips parting yours in a silent invitation.
You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours as you move your hips against his. A soft moan slips past your lips into Jungkook's mouth as he guides your hips on his hardened length.
Jungkook's hand travels up, tangling in your hair, small, light rain drops start to fall down from the dark sky.
"Car?" he says in between kisses. You nod, moaning at the sensation of his lips on your collarbone, leaving purple, reddish marks.
You could never get tired of the way Jungkook looked at you, his eyes shimmery with a mix of love, need, and adoration. It was intoxicating, making you forget all your problems. The universe could have collapsed around you, and you would only care about his mouth on yours.
Everything about him was perfect, his scent, his touch, his voice, those beautiful lips, the way he looked at you, as if you were the only one that mattered in his world.
"Yes, car," you agree, breathy and disheveled.
In a swift motion, Jungkook stood and lifted you, carrying you to the car as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't until you reached the car that he broke the intense kiss, leaving your lips tingling with desire.
With a wicked grin, Jungkook, laid you on the backseat of his car. Jungkook’s fingers found the hem of your crop top, lifting it up, and you helped by throwing your hands over your head- revealing your lacy black bra.
A soft moan fell from your lips as he freed your breasts from the lace, by tugging downwards.
Your soft moans echoed within the car when your boyfriend cups your tits, massaging and kneading, your nipples hardening.
His lips found your jaw, kissing your neck— his eyes darted up to meet yours before his lips met the peak of your nipple, hot breath, then suckling gently, keeping his gaze locked before shifting his attention to the other breast.
Moaning, you bit your lip, head falling back from the sensation. Jungkook loved how responsive you are, the way your nails dig into his upper back.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Jungkook moans, his calloused hands grip your waist in place to stop you from squirming on the leather seat.
He leaned in close, planting a trail of soft kisses along your neck and shoulders. “Mine.” Your boyfriend whispered into your skin.
You licked your lips, not able to find the words to say what you wanted, as all your thoughts were consumed by lust. Your back arched, encouraging the caresses he was giving. His hand grabbed the back of your head, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, deep and hungry, claiming your mouth as his. You let out a soft moan, your hands finding their way to his face.
“Spread your legs princess.” Jungkook says, his voice deep and gentle— he taps on your inner thigh.
You hum softly, watching your boyfriend work on the zipper and buttons from your denim shorts. Jungkook pulls down your shorts down your legs— your panties following quick after.
“Look how pretty this pussy is,” Jungkook chuckled, his eyes making contact with yours raising an eyebrow. He runs a finger down your slit making you choke out a desperate whine.
“Feels good baby?” He says, he adjusts himself— pushing your legs back, giving him more space to be face to face with your dripping core. You only moan in response when he drops a soft kiss on your clit.
You couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips, He smiled against your heat, He licked his lips as he slowly parted your folds with his thumbs, revealing your glistening clit. He took it into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it. You let out a desperate moan, your hips bucking in desperation.
He started flicking his tongue against your clit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your back arched, grinding your pussy against his tongue, feeling it flick deep inside your folds.
“Ngh, right there,” You dug your nails into his hair, your toes curling.
“Right here baby?” Jungkook smirked, inserting two fingers into your sopping hole. You couldn't help but moan and nod, as his fingers curled inside you, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.
“Ass up, princess.” he ordered. Without needing to be told twice, you did as you were told, with wobbly legs you flip around. He roughly grabbed one cheek, squeezing it and spreading you, giving him a view of your tight, puckered hole.
Jungkooks cock twitches in his pants as he watches your holes clench over nothing. “Feeling empty?” He chuckles, a rough hand makes contact with your ass with a hard smack— your back arches. You let out a loud squeal, pleasure and pain mixing together.
He lets out a low growl, his cock straining against his pants, Jungkook moans as he watches your wetness begin to drip down your thighs onto his seats.
“Actually, do you want to tell me about the dragons you were reading about?” Jungkook jokes behind you making you snap your head backwards with a glare.
“You’re annoying.” You pout, Jungkook eyes twinkle with amusement— he bites down on his bottom lip containing the smile that is threatening to spill out. “Annoying? I have you spread out in front of me baby… your pussy is literally dripping.” Jungkook tilts his head to the side cheekily.
Your boyfriend taps on your ass for you to turn around.
He didn’t have to tell you twice as you flip around, before reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull down on the waistband, pulling down his jeans alongside his boxers. His cock springs out, the head red and aching.
Jungkook watches you wrap your hand over his thick length, giving a slow pump causing him to blow out a sigh. Jungkook stops you before you connect your lips with his cock.
“As much as I want you to give me the head of my life, I fucking need to be inside your pretty pussy right now baby.” Jungkook rushes out, tugging on your loose hair backwards.
You pout at him. “Let me fuck you.” Jungkook whispers, the grip on your hair tighten pulling you upwards— his lips milliliters away from your face.
“Fuck me.” You whimper.
The moment the words left your mouth jungkook is picking you up and placing you on top of your lap. You’re leaning your back against Jungkook's chest, your legs spread open on each side of his big thighs. His arm is snaked around your waist pulling you closer into him.
“Cramps?” Jungkook whispers into your neck, “not yet.” You joke, he shakes his head with a small laugh before you wrap your hand around his cock aligning it to your entrance.
“Going to take my cock like a good girl?” He guided your hand, aligning it to your dripping entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your pussy before pushing his cock inside you. You feel the familiar pressure as he slowly slid his length inside you, your pussy sucking him in.
“So big.. fuck.” You moan, your pussy clenching around him making him moan against your ear. “If you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He chuckled.
You dipped down onto his cock, his cock hitting your cervix when you completely sat down on it. Your legs shake beside you, his hands fastly grip underneath your thighs.
“All up my belly.” You moan, arching your back against him.
The sight of his cock inside you, buried up to the hilt, made him moan. "You're so tight," he half-whispered, half-growled against the shell of your ear, the roughness of his voice only fueling the intense passion that already burned through your veins.
He wove his fingers into your hair, guiding your head with an almost possessive need as he tilted you to give him better access to your lips. Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours, his tongue invading, claiming. His eyes closed for a moment as he savored the sensation of your wet, tight pussy engulfing him completely.
He groaned as you lifted yourself, his cock popping out momentarily before sliding back in when you slammed down on it, your cervix meeting his tip with each movement. It was a merciless, primal form of pleasure, your wetness coating his length with every thrust.
His eyes remained locked on you as you got lost in the sensation of his thick length filling you up, throaty moans leaving your lips as you moved on top of him, grinding down onto his cock, your hips moving in a circular motion. Jungkook couldn't help the low growl that left his throat
He pulled you back up, forcing you to bounce on his rigid cock, watching as your full lips parted in an ecstatic moan. The sway of your hips in time with the motion of his cock sliding in and out of you was so fucking erotic it was almost a crime.
You gasped, leaning back just enough to give Jungkook better access to your exposed neck. His cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly which each bounce.
Jungkook's hips bucked up, meeting your bounces, desperate to get as deep as he could, to fill you up completely. The sensation was almost overpowering. A familiar heat was building inside you, a sweet ache that craved release.
Your eyes rolled back, waves of pleasure overwhelmed you.
His hips pumped faster, his cock buried deep inside you, stretching you in the most exquisite way. Jungkook took your lips in another deep, greedy kiss, muffling the sounds of your cries as you rocked your hips wildly, trying to take him as deep as you could, desperate to reach that peak that felt so tantalizingly close.
“I can’t.” You cry, "That's it, baby, feel every inch." He urged you on.
The thrusts grew rougher, deafening the world around you except for the sound of your moans, his grunts, the soft squelching of your bodies coming together and the rain pouring outside.
The pressure built and built, coiling tighter and tighter until you could no longer contain it. Your entire body trembled as you came undone, shattering the quiet of the car with a lustful cry. Your pussy clamped down around Jungkook's cock,
"Cum for me, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust.
You let out a loud whine as his cock slipped out of you. Your body continued to rock back and forth, the ache of denial from not having his cock buried inside you being too much to bear. You glanced down between your legs, flushed when you noticed the stickiness that coated your inner thighs.
Jungkook picked up your trembling body and placed your back onto the leather seat. “Gon’ fuck you missionary so I can see your pretty face when I fill you up with my cum.” Your boyfriend growls.
Jungkook wasted no time, returning home, his cock sliding inside you once more as you let out a needy moan.
His thrusts were relentless, deep, and hard, driving himself into you. The way your pussy immediately clenched around him, took him in so greedily, made him groan, his eyes locked on yours.
A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you eager for air. “H-harder,” you pant, your voice growing hoarse as his grip tightened.
The car rocked beneath the force of his thrusts, the sounds of wet slaps echoed, mixed with your cries of pleasure, your head tossing back, your eyes rolling back at the ferocity of his thrusts, the sensations building once more, the climax burning beneath your skin.
"Harder...fuck, harder," you cried out, your voice high-pitched and desperate. Jungkook chuckled, releasing his hold on your throat, you gasp as you inhale deeply for air.
Jungkook fingers find their way to your clit once more, his thumb rubbing it in circles while he continues to thrust into your soaked cunt.
The mix of the insistent pressure on your clit and the rough thrusts was too much, a wave of pure pleasure crashing over you, your pussy gripping his cock, your body pulsing around him. Jungkook pulled out, watching with a devilish grin as your pussy squirted all over the two of you.
Jungkook slapped his cock on your swollen clit— watching your pussy spasm with spurts of juices, before pushing his cock back into you.
The sensation of being filled once more, the echo of your screams, bouncing off the car roof, and the overwhelming orgasm had left you lightheaded. You clung to Jungkook, panting, drool sliding down your chin.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me..." He groaned in pleasure, the sensation of your slick walls gripping him, almost drowning him.
"You... fuck me so good, baby," you panted, the words slurred, your voice bordering on sounding completely fucked-dumb. Your body shuddering, your pussy spasming around his cock, your orgasm brewing fast. Jungkook's hips sped up, his cock pulsing inside you.
Suddenly, your back arched, your vision filled with a white haze as another orgasm crashed over you. The delicious agony coursed through your body, your pussy clenching down on his cock, Jungkook grunted, feeling you contract around him, the sensation sending him over the edge. His cock pumped inside you, the warmth of his seed filling you up completely. He moaned against your neck, his heart pounding, lost in the sensation of having you completely wrapped around him
"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his jaw clenching, his eyes closed as he rode out the intense wave of ecstasy. His breath hitched, his hips jerking, before he collapsed against you, his cock still throbbing inside you, spent.
Your body continued to tremble, the aftershocks of the powerful climax lingering. Your heart raced, your breaths coming in ragged pants, sweat beading on your forehead.
With a low growl, Jungkook slowly pulled out of you leaving you feeling impossibly empty. The slick sound of his withdrawal accompanied by a heated chuckle of his.
Jungkook looked down, the sight of your pussy dripping with his cum— your wet pussy gaping, waiting for him to fill you once again.
Jungkook watched, captivated by the scene, as you reached down to collect his cum, watching as you pushed it back inside.
“Fuck.. that was hot.” Jungkook groaned, his lips landed on your face, trails of wet kisses from your forehead, down to your nose, your cheeks, and finally landing on your lips. The storm outside, the rain and thunder providing the soundtrack to your post-coital bliss.
Your limp, spent body sprawled over his car seats, your heart still racing, your breaths coming in shallow pants. You gazed up at him, the sweat on his forehead, the flush on his cheeks, the lust still in his eyes, his breathing heavy. A hand cupped your cheek, his fingers gently stroking your jawline as his lips moved against yours in a tender kiss.
Jungkook traced his fingers along your jawline, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
"You good, baby?" He asked, the tenderness in his voice, an unexpected warmth to the intensity of what had just happened.
Your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him and giving a slow, lazy smile. "Yeah, just a bit sore," you responded, blatantly referring to the aching between your legs.
"You're cute, baby," Jungkook whispered into your lips, the simple remark warming you, leaving your heart fluttering. You hummed in content.
The two of you lay there, naked, your skin still glistening from sweat, the weight of the storm outside more comforting than daunting. Your breaths slowly returning to normal.
A beat of silence permeated the car until Jungkook finally broke it, his voice brimming with mirth. "So... do you think we fucked better than the dragons from your book?"
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plistommy · 3 days
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When Steve and Eddie start making out, Steve is the first one to make the move and take charge.
He’d happily kiss Eddie with a soft smile on his face as he’d wrap his arms around the older boy and lay on top of him, making Eddie nervously hold his waist.
But as they get closer, more comfortable, Eddie starts to relax and get the confidence he has lacked. And instead of Steve being the one in charge like he has always been, Eddie takes the charge like he has always wanted to.
And oh does Steve love it.
The way Eddie holds him, kisses him - fucks him and takes care of him while whispering soft praises against his red bitten lips makes Steve happier than ever.
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teddybeartoji · 2 days
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
oral fixation but it's biting instead of sucking. toji has noticed that you like to gnaw on your lip a lot – when you're deep in thought, when you're watching tv, scrolling on your phone, in bed. it's cute. teeth sinking into the soft flesh, eyes blown wide as he works his mouth on you. he can't tear his gaze from you – you're biting down so hard, toji thinks you're going to draw blood. you're desperate, you're needy, and you need more.
he often finds you chewing on your on fingers, too. playing with the sharp canines in your mouth, toji holds back a groan before fixing himself through his pants. it's not his fault you look so good all the fucking time! and the fact that you're doing it unconsciously too, is making his head spin.
you do that in bed as well. toji has learned that you're not trying to hold back your moans – your teeth itch. you need more. he can see the marks you leave on your own skin, how you drool all over the finger that's lodged between your fangs. you bite down harder and harder with every thrust he makes and it has him wondering how much it hurts. do you like the pain? can you even feel it, or is it just pleasure in your head? he needs to know.
so, with one quick move, he pulls your hand from your mouth and pushes his own pointer finger past your lips instead. his hips never falter and he fucking adores the way you try to focus on what he's doing; you're fighting the urge to just let your eyes roll back inside your head but now that his heavy finger sits on top your tongue, you cannot allow them to do so.
your mouth is so warm and wet, and toji twitches inside you. his own lips part as he stares down at your confused expression. you close your mouth around his finger, thinking that he wants you to suck it but no, no...
"bite." his voice is more hushed than usual and the knot in your tummy tightens. "i know ya want to."
hesitation pools in your eyes but he washes it away by leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to your cheek. it's sloppy, it leaves a stain and a whine bubbles up from your throat. he stays close, his lips brush over your jaw – and that's all it takes for you to obey.
the hiss he let's out is addicting; he pulls back from you in an instant, his mossy eyes glued to your mouth. it doesn't hurt, not really – it's perfect. the roll of his hips slows as he tries to slide his finger between your teeth (he wants it to hurt a little more), he loves the way sharp edges scratch st his already rough skin and he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. a little scared that he'll stop, that he'll tease you, but he won't. not when it feels this good.
you bite down even harder and his hips buck forward at the sensation. his own eyes grow wide, surprised by how much it's affecting him and he grumbles something under his breath before picking up the pace again. you're leaving dents in his skin and you're drooling, you're squirming and twitching. you're so fucking pretty and fucked out and cockdrunk and you keep whining around his fingers and he's going to pump you so full that you're going to taste his cum<33333
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rizsu · 2 days
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"i miss her so much," megumi sighs into his pillow.
"miss who?" nobara asks, not sparing him as glance as she continues to file her nails.
"(y/n), she— she's gone." with a heavy heart, he answers her, voice cracking in the middle.
nobara stops filing her nails. she didn't expect megumi to drop such a plot bomb on her. how could that be? she saw you just two days ago!
"...my condolences."
the sudden phrase makes megumi sit up. you're gone, but not that gone.
"oh, she's not dead. she just hasn't texted me back since last night."
the room falls silent. nobara bites one side of her inner cheek, wondering whatever she'll do with such a lovesick friend.
"seriously, what is wrong with you?"
"my girl hasn't texted me," he starts, an attitude bubbling up, "you wouldn't understand my pain because you're unlovable."
it's nobara's turn to stand up, such disrespect won't be tolerated by her.
"i genuinely hope you're cursed with immortality and witness the deaths of your loved ones and experience an excruciating loneliness that can't be lifted even with a god's help."
"yeah, yeah, i'm so scar— SHE TEXTED," the vibration of his phone catches his attention. he didn't see what the pop-up notification was, but he's confident that it's you.
the sight of megumi in love disgusts nobara. she can't bare to witness this anymore, so she leaves him in his own little world.
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celestie0 · 2 days
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I actually kinda like the accidental pregnancy trope idk just two characters learning to coparent and then eventually falling in love is kinda cute 🥹 I’d love to see what you write for gojo I feel like he’d be scared but end being such an amazing dad
gojo x reader | accidental pregnancy trope [drabble]
little miracle. a gojo x reader story
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a/n. ok anon i basically started answering this ask very minimally but i couldn't stop myself from writing and it basically became an entire story so enjoy i guess?? LOL my bad <3 warnings/tags. domestic fluff, angst, mentions of sick parent, mentions of death, pregnancy symptoms. there is happy ending!! word count. 2.2k
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gojo and you are in your mid twenties but you're both just barely getting by, you're a new writer living in a tiny apartment in a big city and gojo is the cute waiter at your favorite diner who's just saving up some money because he wants to go back to school and you're both kindaaa crushing on each other, flirting w one another. the restaurant gojo works at ends up starting meal delivery option, and you order some pizza to your apartment just so that you can see him on a weekday and he's soooo super cheeky with it leaning in the doorframe entryway of your apartment with the pizza in his hand like "it says here someone ordered a hot guy in some super sexy black jeans, well he's here now" and you're like "you're such a fuckin idiot" and you abandon said pizza to fuck him on your facebook marketplace couch.
fast forward the next day n you wake up, but he's not there anymore. he left you a little note that says he's going away for a month since his mom is sick and he needs to be w her. you're confused by the note, and you wish he left his phone number because you realize you have no way of contacting him. but that's ok, he'll be back soon, right?
in the couple weeks following the night you both hooked up, you're feeling like shit in the mornings, nauseous, you realize you've missed your period but you shrug it off because it was never really normal anyways. but one morning you throw up, confused as hell, wondering if you got food poisoning. but as you swing your legs back and forth in your paper gown, sitting high up on your primary care doctor's examination room bed, they tell you that you're pregnant and you act like you've never even heard the word before.
there's no doubt gojo is the father, you haven't slept w anyone except him in months. and a baby was just...you can barely afford to pay your bills, you're already living paycheck to paycheck since your book isn't even out yet and you're just surviving w the advance from your old job. what the hell were you going to do? and you can't even tell him that you're pregnant, because he's god knows where, stranding you with no phone number to contact him and you feel so left behind and alone.
the first person he comes to see when he gets back into the city is you. he looks tired, probably from his travels, or possibly from what he saw back home w his mom laying sick in bed. but he's still so happy to see you, and he kisses you and tells you he missed you and you stop him to tell him that you need to talk. for him, there was life before you told him you were pregnant, and then there was life after. and now he was living in the after. standing still in the tiny living room of your apartment when you tell him he's the father, and the words that leave your mouth afterwards are drowned out in his head because he can only focus on that one thought at once.
father. he's going to be a father? whatever heaviness he finds in his chest from the word is replaced with adoration when he looks at you.
keeping it, was what you had told him next.
it was tough at first, because of the morning sickness and the hormones and the yelling at him for not bringing you the kfc you craved so badly a minute before he did, and then the crying that follows suit when you realize you're being mean to him. but he does everything you want, everything he knows how, because he doesn't know how to be a dad, and he figures the least he can do right now is know what to do for you. and the thought scares him, to death every day. as he's driving you to your doctor's appointments, he's praying under his breath that you and baby are ok and healthy. while he's waiting tables at work, he puts on his best smile for an extra tip because it's extra money for the baby, because she isn't even here yet and he already wants to give her everything she's ever wanted.
yes, she. a baby girl. you were having a baby girl. you cried when your ob/gyn slipped and told you the gender, because you asked for it to be kept secret, but what hurt even more was that you told gojo he didn't need to come to this appointment. just a routine little check up, not a big deal. i'll just have my friend drop me off, you said. little did you know it was the one where you would find out you two were having a little girl.
oh, gojo knows nothing about girls. would it be different from raising a boy? can he play wrestle w her when she's a little older, or would he have to be gentle with her? would he learn how to make flower crowns for her with daisies from the field just to see a smile on her tiny face? how will he ever be able to deny her anything, especially if she looks just like you?
the second trimester, you two felt like a young married couple, and for once it felt like things were bright. like you two knew what you were doing. like it wasn't a mistake, but a blessing. you wanted him, desired him, and he'd never desired anything more than he desired you. it took you a while to come around to having sex again, it felt wrong, because that was what got you two into this mess in the first place. but those feelings melted away when you two moved into his little ranch together on the outskirts of town and you knew what it felt like to be hugged by him in the mornings, his sleepy voice drawling in your ear about how much more beautiful you look with every passing day. in those moments, all the regret melts away.
it all comes crashing down in third trimester. you're angry, he's tired, you're sad, he swears he's trying his best but he just can't seem to understand what you need from him. you say you wished this never happened, he says he didn't ask for any of this, and you're sobbing on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands because it all just feels like some cruel twisted joke. like a dream you should be waking up from any second from now. he sits down on the cold tile beside you, solemn in the face. he already looks so much older than the bright eyed boy he used to be, twirling a pizza box around on his finger in the doorframe of your apartment. his cheeks have sunk in, and he looks older. his hand reaches out to hold yours, and he kisses the back of it, and he says he'll never leave. not like how he left all those months ago, with nothing but a note. no matter what it comes to, one thing he can always promise you, is that he'll never leave like that ever again.
when your baby girl was born, nothing else mattered. it's like all the turmoil you faced in the past eight months was not even worth paying a moment's care towards when you cradle her in your arms. gojo had been fighting back tears the entire time, mostly provoked by how difficult childbirth had been for you as he watched feeling helpless, but the moment he held his little girl in his arms, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. and he cried, and he cried, and he cried. few fathers could treasure their daughters as much as gojo did, and he knows it's a promise every parent makes to their child, but he vowed he'll never let anything hurt her. never let anyone upset her. for as long as he lives, he'll keep all the cruelty away from her, and keep her safe forever. you both named her yuki, for snow drifting outside of the hospital window when she opens her eyes for the first time.
you two make the tough decision that it's best for gojo to go back to school like he originally planned while you take care of the baby at home. it's hard having him away, and it's torture for him too, since he seems to breathe and live just to make yuki giggle and smile. but it's what made fiscal sense, since you knew what it was like to grow up in a household with little money to feed or fend, and the two of you wanted more than that for your daughter.
gojo's mother succumbed to the very illness that had been haunting her since he visited her for a month over a year ago, and he cried to sleep when he realized she only got to hold her granddaughter once before she passed away. and for the first time in his life, gojo learned what it really meant to be a parent, and it was only found in losing his own. there was no time to grieve in the capacity that he wanted to, because he needed to be there for you and his little girl. a year ago, he would've been broken, beaten, and bruised, but now he bleeds only in his dreams, then buries and braves the seasons for the sake of you two. as he slips his shoes off at the front door after a long day, then walks into the dark of the house, turning the corner into your shared room, he sees you humming peacefully while rocking his daughter to sleep. and he realizes his entire world is sitting in that chair.
gojo graduates from his two year engineering program, and lands a job in the city. the same city you left to go live with him when you were pregnant. it was tough to come back to the same city you fled, because all you remember of it now is morning sickness and fear of your career and falling in love with a boy that had a boyish charming smile you knew would ruin you one day. and now he's taken you back, moving the little family you've made together into a house. a house! he bought you a house. it was a little one, with no more than two bedrooms, but there was enough room in your hearts to raise your daughter with love, and that was all she'd ever need. she can walk now, mumble words. she said dada first, and gojo never stops teasing you about it. and when she finally says mama, you felt like your whole heart would burst.
he proposes to you on the waterline of the city's park, at the top of golden hour while the wind is subtle and tame but still ruffles the fabric of your dress. waiter boy, on one knee in front of you, years of waiting tables but he cannot even bare to wait one more second to hear your answer to the most important question he'll ever ask anyone in his entire life.
and you say yes. and he promises he'll love you for the rest of his life.
the wedding is small, because you two decided not to invite all of the family that had become estranged ever since you told them that you were pregnant with a man's child who you weren't even so much as dating. his family became yours after that, with his aunts and uncles congratulating you and yuki's cousins playing with her before she was to skip down the aisle as flower girl. it was sad to see your side of the church so empty, but you could never truly feel empty in this world anymore. not with what all that you've gained in the process.
there is fear in love, and in life. there was fear in gojo's heart when he learned he was going to be a father when he barely even knew right from wrong. there was fear in learning you were going to be a mother when you knew you cannot protect your child from the same hurt that has haunted you for a lifetime. but there was joy too. joy in seeing your baby bump for the first time, joy in holding your daughter in your arms for the first time, joy in seeing a sparkling stone in a tiny box presented to you on a sunday by the boy who still made your heart skip a beat just by looking at him, and there was so much joy in marrying him too.
but you find the real joy comes in the moments that you expect nothing from at all, but they happily surprise you with the feeling nonetheless. like now, as you sit on a picnic blanket at the park and you watch your husband running across fluttering grass in the wind, chasing after your daughter whose giggles and shrieks fill the summer air. he catches her, throwing her up into the air before spinning her around in his arms, and you tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch it happen. you expected nothing from anything life had given you in the past four years, and yet it gave you all the joy in the world. where you could've expected sorrow and sadness, it gave you something beautiful instead. you never would've thought that the boy you locked eyes with through a shy flutter of your lashes underneath warm restaurant lighting, the one that winked at you with no shame despite you being surrounded by all of your friends, you never could've imagined he'd be who he is to you today. but for certain, now, you believe in it. you believe in little miracles.
.
.
.
[the end]
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a/n. what the flying fuck. i'm gonna go cry now lmfao.
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