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ana-chronista · 2 days

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Meow there 😸💛💛, I hope you are well 💛.

For the kiss prompt i would love bojure 17 ... to distract + 48 ... out of habit, please.

Have a nice day 💛💛💛💛💛

First, sorry for the delay - one of these came easier than the other but I wanted to wait until I could share both! (The one that was harder actually went through a whole premise change...) Secondly, thanks for the prompts - this is my first time writing Bojure! I hope I did it justice.

17 ... to distract

The thing about Jure is that he doesn’t get nervous. Bojan’s certainly never seen that look on him, and he’s fairly sure Jure would need a dictionary definition of the word before being able to confirm that he’s never experienced it in his life. “What time is it now?” No, what Jure gets is impatient. “It’s five minutes after you last asked, Muca.” Right now he’s little more than a vibrating ball of energy, hunched over and drumming on his thighs with his palms. “So why haven’t they called yet?” And Bojan gets it, he really does. The committee had told them they’d call by 11am to let them know if they’d been picked for next year’s Eurovision – because for all that there’s no national selection this year, there’s still a process to follow – and there’s nothing that puts you on edge quite like waiting to hear if you’ve managed to land the biggest opportunity of your career so far or not. Jan and Nace are at least twenty minutes into their stress smoke somewhere outside, and Kris is busy pacing the practice space below, organising and reorganising their equipment while speaking rapidly with someone on his phone in a voice too low to catch. Bojan had retreated to the loft to focus on his breathing, and Jure had joined ten minutes later, muttering something about feeling better from a higher vantage point. The fact is, they’re all more than a little tense as the seconds drag by, and he understands fully, a hundred and ten per cent, what Jure is feeling right now. “They just said around 11. It doesn’t mean they’re always going to be dead on, you know?” But his bouncing on the couch next to him is doing nothing to soothe either Jure or himself – in fact, it’s only agitating them both worse. “You’ve definitely got the volume up on your phone?” Bojan’s not sure he’s ever felt so incredulous as he does in that one moment of looking over at his friend. “Seriously, Jurček?” “Well, I don’t know!” Jure huffs in protest. “You might not.” “Do you not think that’s the first thing I would have checked?” He hates that his fingers are now itching to actually do just that. Irritation flares up white-hot inside of him, gritting his teeth and tensing his muscles. “I don’t know! Knowing you, probably n-” Bojan has moved before he even realises it, the only thought in his head that Jure needs to not be talking right now. Suddenly he’s pulled Jure close by his shoulder and the back of his head, crushing his mouth against the drummer’s to cut him off. There’s barely any time to register anything past the warmth of his lips before he breaks away “Boj-” Before he can start up again, Bojan reels him back in for another kiss, this time less hurried but more forceful. He can take it all in properly this time: how Jure’s mouth falls open for him, how he reaches up to brush Bojan’s hair back behind his ear, how much he pushes right back. Jure’s body has stilled now as though all of his energy is just being channelled into this one point of contact, and Bojan can’t pretend it’s not the same for him. His heartrate steadies and his muscles uncoil. It’s like the whole world has narrowed down just to the man next to him on the couch. In fact, it’s narrowed so much that it takes Kris calling him from the floor below to make him jolt back. “Bojan, answer your phone!” It’s only then that he registers his phone ringing at long last. Cursing, he fumbles to answer the call, answering Jure’s laughter only with a dig in the ribs that makes him squeal and squirm away even as Bojan does his best to sound professional and mature. When he next kisses Jure just five minutes later, it’s in celebration instead.

48 ... out of habit

Bojan can’t remember when, or even exactly how, the whole kissing thing had begun. If he had to guess, he’d put it somewhere within the first few months after Jure officially joined the band, probably at some party or on a night out with the others. He’s not even sure if he made the first move or if Jure did, but one of them must have done, because suddenly the tradition was born. Greeting each other for the first time after weeks apart? A kiss on the cheek. Saying goodbye after a night out? A kiss on the cheek. Congratulating one another after a successful gig? A kiss on the cheek. There were rules, of course, unspoken but still there. It had to be as over the top as possible. Why bother if it didn’t involve sweeping in, grabbing the other one dramatically, and landing the biggest, loudest, longest kiss on the cheek known to man? That was all part of the fun. Then, naturally, it became too funny not to do it all the time. Managing not to misplace a suitcase while travelling? Welcoming each other back to the room after five minutes? Celebrating a win in the never-ending Joker Out Uno tournament? No incident was too small to mark with another kiss on the cheek – jokingly, of course. And sometimes it might evolve to a kiss on the lips instead. Bojan did remember how that one had started, the time he’d come in too quick and accidentally caught Jure’s mouth instead as he turned his head. But the laughter had been instantaneous, and Jure had returned it with even more spectacle, so it was all fine. The rules remained the same for the odd time it happened, though usually it devolved into them wrestling to dip the other one first and laughing too much for them to ever make it to each other’s mouths.

And if anyone had ever asked, he’d have to say he’s never really thought about it. It’s not like he hasn’t kissed each of his other bandmates at one time or another, and he knows they’ve all done the same. They’re all just that tactile with each other, like good friends tend to be. So what if he and Jure have this long-running joke just between them as well? That’s also something that good friends do. And he carries on never really thinking about it – except for maybe the odd plan to ambush Jure in ever increasingly over the top ways – until one night in London. Or early one morning, really. It’s just after three, and while the others had dispersed to their rooms after they all bundled in from the pub, Bojan had decided to sit up for a while to work on the rest of the lyrics for their new song. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but the buzz of enthusiasm had long since dried up once the words pinging around his mind decided that they just didn’t want to go onto the page properly. All he had to show for the last couple of hours were pages of increasingly frustrated scribbles and crossings out. “You’re still up?” Bojan jolts at the sudden noise, head whipping up. Jure is in the doorway, dressed for bed and hair all over the place. He’s clearly just woken up. “I thought I heard something.” he explains before Bojan can muster a reply. He nods towards the pages that Bojan had already given up on, torn from his notebook and now crumpled up and scattered by his feet. “Not going so great, huh?” The sound Bojan heaves in response as he buries his head in his hands is somewhere between a groan and a sigh. Caught up in his own frustration, he doesn’t realise that Jure has crossed the room until he feels the couch dipping next to him and a hand wrapping around his, pulling it from his face. All of a sudden he’s aware of just how much his own hand hurts from scratching away with the pen for so long as Jure smoothes out his fingers, kneading at cramped tendons and aching muscles. But before he can say anything – a protest that he should really get on with these lyrics or a joke that Jure should open a massage business as a sideline – Jure brings his palm up and presses his lips to it gently. The touch is barely there but it lingers for a moment longer than a joke should and Bojan finds that any and all words die in his throat. This isn’t something either of them have ever done before, but Jure’s eyes are still locked with his, calm and almost challenging. And then the moment is over. Jure gives his hand one last squeeze but doesn’t let go as he stands. “Come on. Come get some sleep. This can wait until actual morning.” It sounds so straightforward, so matter of fact, that all Bojan can do is nod and let him pull him to his feet. He’s right – there’ll be plenty of time later, and for now he’s got too many other questions on his mind to be able to concentrate.

#ana answers #fanfic #bojure

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risuola · 9 months

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YOU CRYIN'? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

You and Gojo know each other since high school, and since then, you also hate each other. He bites and you always bite back, the constant argument creates tension that everybody, except you two, seem to notice. One time you said too much, causing Gojo’s self-control to snap.

cw: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, mentions of bullying (Satoru is a meanie, ok?), overstimulation, enemies to lovers kind of vibe, I feel like the "you cryin'?" line in itself is a warning if you heard the dub version of it, reader discretion is advised — 1,4k words

» PART TWO

"You cryin'?", Satoru taunted, thrusting his hips relentlessly into yours, with a handful of your hair in his unforgiving grip. Standing behind you, with one hand digging into the supple flesh of your side to steady himself, he was pounding behavior into you.

You and Satoru Gojo have a history of never-ending venom-spitting and it's safe to say you hated the man and the man hated you with passion for years now. It started in high school, where you just couldn't stand how full of himself he was, looking at everybody from above as if he was so much better than everyone and yes, you are aware of how powerful of an individual he is but the arrogance that came with it was just unbearable. Much more you liked his closest friend Suguru, but as years passed, you found yourself working closely with Gojo more and more often, because you decided to stay at Jujutsu high in Tokyo to help students learn. You were strong enough to be considered a high 1st grade sorcerer and everything you achieved, you earned by hard work and stubbornness but that didn’t stop the know-it-all from bullying you, no. He had an awful habit of pouring more fuel into the constant fire of argument between you two and you never owed him, always biting back. That being said, your constant bickering with Satoru successfully brought you to where you were now.

Pressed against the wooden desk, sweaty and exhausted as your body was chasing the fourth orgasm with no break in between. It was a torture – the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt from overstimulation and burned with pleasure at the same time. You always acted tough, but now you couldn't stop the tear rolling down your cheek as his grip on your hair tightened and his teeth sank into the delicate skin between your neck and shoulder.

"You’re really cryin’”, he grinned teasingly and turned your head more to the side, kissing the tear away. Delighted at the sight, Satoru pulled back and flipped you over so he could see your pretty face when he pushed his girth back onto your swollen insides, kissing every oversensitive spot on his way while hooking your thighs over his hips. You dug fingers into his skin, leaving crescent moon shapes of your nails engraved into his flesh and you once again could feel his pace picking up. Naively, you grabbed at his hip, trying to slow him down but with no effect.

"So pretty, fuck, when you cry like that," he grunted, kissing along the salty trace on your face and down your neck to see the bruising mark of his teeth was already blooming with reds and purples. "Think you have few more in you?", he asked and the thought of few more orgasms terrified you. "You'll have to, 'm nowhere near to be done, wit' ya," a chuckle echoed in his chest and you couldn't tell if his objective was to kill you in the most humiliating way possible or what.

"N-no," you protested and he laughed once more, pulling out almost completely.

"No?", Satoru grined in his usual, annoyingly handsome manner but you barely saw him through the collage of stars in your sight, "'ts too bad you've been naughty lately. Need to fuck some behavior into you."

"Gojo-", you whined, helpless against his muscular body as he was ramming ruthlessly, abusing your swollen oversensitive insides to your limits.

"Nuh-uh", he wrapped his slender fingers around your throat, putting no pressure, but redirecting your head so you looked him in the eyes and you could drown in the crystalline blue tones surrounded by thick snowy eyelashes if you wouldn't know better. "That's not my name, sweetheart."

"Go to hell, Goj-, fuck", you whined and he thrusted harder, your back was slamming against the wooden counter but he was unbothered by the echoing pounding sound that clearly was indicating what was happening in his office.

"That's. not. my. name.", he growled, accentuating every word with a particularly sharp thrust and it was enough for you to drown in the haziness.

"Sa-, uh", you tried, but his pace was unforgiving, his cock fucking you dumb but he hummed teasingly, encouraging you to speak. "'toru- fuck. Satoru, please."

"There we go, wasn't that hard now, was it?", smiling, the sorcerer lifted you up, angling his hips upwards, his cock reaching even deeper although you thought it's impossible. The blunt head kissed every spot inside you and you felt another orgasm approaching. Satoru groaned at how your walls were flexing around his girth and this time, he chased his own, the first one, the one he's been denying himself in order to drive you insane.

He was panting heavily, groaning against your neck, profanities slipping through his mouth as he twitched inside you. Suddenly he grabbed you harshly, nails digging into your trembling thighs and he lowered himself on the expensive leathery chair, giving you a slap to the tender skin, silently ordering you to work. You straddled him, supporting your hands over his shoulders and you pushed him against the back rest, surely bruising his muscles with the harsh grip you had on him. You were desperate to finish him off, to put an end to the torture he’s subjected you to for talking too much. At this point you don’t even remember what caused his composure to snap, what has gotten you into the endless spiral of agonizing pleasure with a man you despised. The man that now you were riding with the last bits of your power, fighting the mind-numbing rush of your own release to bring him to his and you could tell how close he was. Satoru’s jaws were clenched, his fingers were digging harshly into the tender skin of your sides and his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His abs were flexing, cock was twitching and his tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined with endless amounts of fucks and yeses. His eyes closed shut and he threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed at his white hair, smearing open mouthed kisses all over his throat and collar bones, and your movements stuttered with your dripping pussy squelching for the nth time. That was enough for Satoru – he gave in, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled his load into you, filling you completely with warmth and you were quick to come right after him. Your ups and downs became sloppy, uneven as you slowly ride your highs out and finally, you raised your hips just enough to have him out.

Falling back heavily against his body, you leaned your head over his shoulder in hopes to calm the panting. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage, you felt the concoction of juices running down your thigh and dripping onto Satoru’s legs, but you couldn’t care less. With his hands releasing your flesh that he was squeezing unwaveringly, you felt your body finally relaxing, your mind coming back to senses and it slowly came to you, what just happened.

Never, not even once in your life, you considered even willing to kiss Gojo Satoru. Yes, he’s annoyingly handsome; yes, his eyes are the most beautiful, magical blue crystalline spheres nature could ever create, and yes – there was a tension between you two since the day you met him, or at least everyone around always pointed that out but you never truly considered him an option and yet, you not only kissed him, but spend god-knows-how-long fucking him – or rather being fucked by him.

“You have to misbehave more often”, he teased, finally able to form his words coherently and you looked at him, eyes still cloudy but you could tell with no mistake that his lips were curled up in a smirk. You almost heard him smirking, that’s how obvious it was. You blinked, clearing your vision to take in his view. Gojo’s face was blissfully tired, he still was breathing though his mouth and the snowy peaks of his hair clung artistically to his sweaty forehead. He was stunning like this, so fucked out, he looked like he’s high and you took few mental pictures of his handsome daze. You also noted to yourself that you, indeed, need to misbehave more frequently.

» PART TWO

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satorusugurugurl · 27 days

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JJK Men: Finding Your Toys

Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,952

Warnings: Sex toys! Dirty talk, squirting, smut, videotaping, degrading, holy heck, it’s spicy

A/N: This had me feeling things; I loved writing this. Each one of these hit differently, in the best ways. 😏

MDNI!!!

Geto Suguru:

“Suguru!” You called out from the kitchen, standing on a stepstool dusting the tops of your cabinets. “Can you do me a favor, please?”

Popping his head into the kitchen, Suguru stared at the curve of your ass peeking out from your shorts. “Anything for you.” He watched you stand higher, ass bouncing just a bit.

“Could you grab me the spring decorations? I put them on the bed.”

“On it.”

Ah, spring cleaning. A single day of the year, you deep cleaned your shared apartment. You were donating clothes and books, pretty much decluttering. Then you cleaned everything: floorboards, vents, every crevice. You always felt better after it was done. Plus, with Suguru helping you, you did it in half the time. All that was left was to put up the windchime and new throw pillows.

Then you both could relax.

Suguru was looking forward to a long shower and takeout food. Maybe if you weren’t too tired, he could have you for dessert. Before anything like that remotely happened, he needed to finish the task at hand. The bag was right where you told him it would be. Yanking it off, Suguru turned only to hear something hit the floor.

“Shit.” He cursed, watching your water bottle roll under the bed. Bending down, Suguru reached for the runaway water, only to feel the corner of an extended storage bin. With a tug, Suguru pulled the mysterious box out, his eyes widening as he stared at the transparent container.

Sex toys galore were inside. Glass dildos, clits suckers, vibrators, regular dildos. The sight nearly rocked Suguru's back as he opened the lid, glancing at the cleaned and organized toys. His cock throbbed painfully as he picked it up, putting it on the bed.

So this was what you got off with when he was on a mission. He hummed, picking up a vibrator and turning it over before grabbing a glass toy. It was long and had a large orb on the end. A g-spot toy. Did you use these to make yourself squirt? Have you squirted without him?

The first time Suguru made you squirt was when you both first started fooling around. His mouth was on your clit, fingers hammering against that spot until you screamed, soaking the sheets and his face. You freaked out at first, profusely apologizing. But your words were silent as Geto went feral, wanting to see you squirt again.

He didn't stop until you were nearly fucked out of your mind. All you could say was: “D-Didn't know I could squirt!”

“Suguru!” Your voice called out from the kitchen. “Did you find the bag?”

“Oooh, I found something alright.”

His tone had you turning your head towards his voice. “Oh? Was it the fairy lights? I thought I forgot to grab that bag at the store.” Your boyfriend hummed.

“I mean, a few of these light up.”

Okay, the man was definitely up to something. You finished up what you were doing before treading down the hall. As you turned the corner into the room, you froze like a deer in the headlights. Your toy bin was out, and Suguru was eagerly digging through it, a smug smile on his face.

“Ah!!” Bolting across the floor, you snatched the toys away, throwing them back inside before reaching for the lid.

Suguru chuckled, grabbing the lid from you and tossing it. “Oh no, you don't! We're not putting this away.” With your plan foiled, you held your arms out to block his view.

“No! It's embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Looking at your boyfriend, your cheeks flushed as he pulled his sweats down an inch. He's showing you the bulge in his boxers. “It's fucking hot.”

The humiliation slowly began to fade, a fire replacing it. “Really?”

Suguru nodded while digging in the bin. “Yeah, I like seeing the stuff you get off with.” He pulled out your g-spot dildos and vibrator. “Trying to make yourself squirt?” The knowing smirk on his face left you a blushing mess as you glanced away, nodding in response. “Did you do it?” This time, you shook your head.

“I don't think I'm doing it right.”

You felt Suguru behind you before you heard him. “Oh? Maybe you should show me~?”

One heavy make-out session later, you sighed softly as you slowly thrust the glass toy in and out of your dripping pussy. Suguru was on his stomach between your legs, watching you like a hawk. The glass toy rubbed against the sweet spot inside of you perfectly. The sensation was almost too overwhelming.

“C-Can’t.” Your legs clenched together in an attempt to ease the throbbing.

“Yes, you can.” Hands grabbed your thighs, forcing them open. “Stop closing your legs; I can't see.”

With an almost pained whine, you kept thrusting the toy in and out of your cunt. It was tight, so tight, your walls were hugging the toy, making it difficult for you to thrust it in and out. You were getting so fed up with this. Glaring down between your legs, you chewed on your bottom lip. Every time you tried to make yourself squirt, this happened. You'd get tired and annoyed before tossing the toy to the side with an irritated growl.

Suguru was focusing less on your dripping sex and more on your face. You were frustrated, focusing too much on the task at hand. You were never going to cum like that. So he gently wrapped his hand around yours, helping you with the pacing of the thrusts. The warmth of his hand and the subtle change of pace had you tilting your head back.

“You need to relax,” Suguru whispered, pressing hot kisses against your thigh. “You’re too tense. Stop focusing so much on the mechanics of it and more on the sensation.”

Letting out a trembling exhale, you relaxed, focusing more on how the toy slid in and out of you. Frustrated groans turned into low whimpering as Suguru sucked at your skin. Fuck, this felt so good, like when Suguru would finger you. The familiar coil tightened in your abdomen. The same tightening you usually felt when you would squirt.

“Ah, ah fuck.” You arched your back off the bed, pussy throbbing around the toy. “Fuuuuck, Suguru~!”

“Yeah, feel good?” He asked, still gripping the toy. “you’re getting the hang of it. It would help if you did a little of this—” he bit his lip in concentration, curving it up more. When he did that, you saw the entire universe. A scream escaped you as the toy rubbed perfectly over your g-spot. “there it is; you just gotta curve it a bit.”

“Holy fuck! Holy fuck!” Your legs began trembling as they began to shut.

Suguru sat up, growling as he shifted his body, preventing your legs from closing completely. “I thought I told you to fuckin’ stop doing that.” All you did was whine in response. “Ah~ too fucked out of your mind to even notice? God, you're so fuckin’ cute.” The hand he had on top of yours set a fast pace. “You're almost there, don't stop~ good girl~ good fuckin girl~!” the sweet praises had you speeding your hand up, making your boyfriend chuckle in surprise. “Oh, Y/N, you want me to praise you more~? You get off on that?” When you whimpered, he cooed. “My pretty princess is doing such a good job fucking her pussy. Are you going to cum? Gonna cum for me, princess?” Your boyfriend's freehand began rubbing your clit.

“Y-Yes! Fuck ohhh fuck!” Tears formed in your eyes as Suguru grinned, letting go of your hand. Watching as you sped up, not needing his direction anymore. “I-I’m gonna, gonna cum!”

“That's it, squirt for me. Make a mess, princess. Ooh!” Suguru scoffed, sitting back as you convulsed, squirting all over the bed and him. His hand rubbed your clit, extending your orgasm, making you squirt even more. “Fuck~! Look at you, making a mess, you nasty slut.”

Suguru made sure to watch you. The way your body slowly came down, hips against the mattress as your eyes fluttered shut. The subtle way your hips jerked, trying to evade his hand, which was now drawing gentle circles around your clit.

You were so damn beautiful.

Hungry, starved eyes bore into yours, his chest heaving as you pulled the toy out. “S-Sugu?” Your timid voice didn't seem to break his trance. “Baby? You okay?” Instead of responding, Suguru answered by grabbing your hips and flipping you so your face was in your pillow. “Mmmph!”

“You did okay,” his voice was dark, gravely, “I'd give you a five out of ten.” All you could do was listen, tensing up when you felt the tip of the glass toy prodding your entrance. “But I think you need a demonstration.” You couldn't even respond as the toy was shoved back inside of you deeper than you could have managed on your own. “Maybe, just maybe, if you cum hard enough, I’ll fuck you.”

Gojo Satoru:

The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted from the oven as you pulled the hot tray out. The viral cinnamon roll cookies smelt as good as they looked. While placing the cookies on the cooling rack, you heard footsteps hurrying down the hall. Seemed as though Satoru’s nose was as keen as ever.

“Am I the best girlfriend ever or what?” You tossed the oven mitts on the counter with a fist pump. “Not only do I bake, but I suck co—” Turning on your heel, you were about to wink at your boyfriend, only to find him towering over you.

His face was flushed, and his smile was as wide as could be as he smirked. “When the hell did you get this?” Gojo dangled your pink, blue-tooth bullet vibrator in front of your face.

“Satoru!!!” You reached for the toy, only to have him yank it out of reach. “Give it back!!” Satoru shook his head, holding the toy above his head, making it impossible for you to reach it now. “Toruuu!!!”

Satoru was as excited as a child at Christmas. He was practically vibrating (not from the toy) with horny energy. What a fucking find! All you asked was for him to grab the blanket from the closet! When he pulled it out, the box to his new friend fell.

“The box said I can control it with an app?! An app on my phone?! Oh my god, this is great!” He promptly held the box with his other hand, reading its functions. “Long distance play, waterproof, and it syncs to music and sound?!” His white brows furrowed in disbelief as his grin widened. “Y/N, why didn't you tell me?!”

“Because it sucks.”

All of the excitement on Gojo’s face vanished. “Sucks? What do you mean it sucks?!” His cerulean eyes darted from the toy in his hand before focusing on you. The pout he was sporting was almost impressive.

“It sucks, Satoru.” Pushing past him, you headed for the couch. “I tried syncing it to my playlist. It didn’t get me all hot and bothered. I even tried using the sound function. The app syncs to the sounds of porn videos, or any sound in general, but they just.” You shrugged a shoulder, plopping down on the couch. “They were so phony that the vibrations were so weak. I hated it so much that I didn’t see the point in telling you about it.”

Something about what you had said had Gojo blinking in silence. “You synced it up to some random porn video online?”

“Yes, Toru, and like I just told you, it sucked.”

“Right, but you watched two rando’s do it?” Something in the tone of his voice triggered your sixth sense. The danger was approaching, and it was in the form of your very horny boyfriend.

“Y-Yeah?” What should have been a statement was more of a question as Satoru dangled the toy on his index finger with an almost sadistic smirk. “What are you getting at with this?”

”Ah, you see, dear Y/N, my sweet perverted girlfriend.”

”Hey!”

Gojo crouched, twirling the vibrator around his finger like his house keys. “The problem isn’t the toy.” His pink tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. “It’s the content you’re viewing. You need something more—personal.”

”Ah! Ah! Fuuuck! Fuck!”

The toy deep inside of you buzzed at an intense speed. “Holy shit!” You cried out, your hand squeezed Satoru’s cock tight.

“Take my fucking cock.” Satoru’s voice from your television was sultry while the Satoru beside you wheezed out a laugh.

“Fuck, easy baby, you’ll break my dick.” Peeling your eyes away from the television screen, you tilted your head back against the couch, your Y/E/C eyes focusing on Satoru’s throbbing cock. “See, I told you it was the content and not the toy.”

He was right about that. When he suggested you put on the porno’s the two of you made together, you didn’t have high hopes. But holy fuck were you wrong. Your moans, Satoru’s dirty words, god it god it got you going, along the vibrator was buzzing like mad inside of you. Firmly pressing against your g-spot, teasing it as you watched Gojo fuck you into the mattress.

Satoru decided to join you for ‘research,’ wanting to see for himself that the toy sucked, as you said it did. Little did he know that you were going to start stroking him as you both watched yourselves on the screen. He rocked his head back as your thumb rubbed gently circled over his slit.

“Y/N fuck, playing with my pre like that.” his hand slid over, rubbing circles over your clit that had you jolting. “You're so pretty when you're feeling good. Such a good girl~”

His voice next to you was a sharp contrast to the Gojo on the television. He had the camera turned to his face. He was sweaty, biting his lip as he slapped your ass hard in the video. “You're such a nasty girl~! God fuck, grinding up against me on the dance floor, telling me you were soaking wet in the car.” Another sharp slap had both of you in the video and on the couch whining. “My dirty fucking slut, couldn't wait to get dicked down, could ya’?” The vibrator buzzed louder, your toes curling as you watched the screen. Slapping skin, whines, and guttural moans had your vibrator buzzing like a beehive.

“Hey, look at me~” Turning to look at Satoru was so hard from how hard you were jerking. “You're so beautiful~ do you like your toy now? You love it?” Please say you do, please, please, please. Satoru begged in his mind as you jerked his cock harder. If you liked it, it would make phone sex a million times better.

“Toru, Toru, yes, feels good~ love it~!” Fuck you were close. Your moans were beginning to meld in with your moans from the video. Louder, desperate, and ducking porn worthy. “Toru wanna cum, wanna cum with y-you!” Satoru gritted his teeth, eyes darting to his cock, that you were jerking off like a crazed woman.

“Yeah, ah, pretty girl, I’m close~ cum with me, okay? Be a good girl and cum~” The Satoru on the television snarled as he came, while your

Satoru whimpered, thrusting into your clenched hand until ropes of hot sticky cum painted your hard and his clenching ab’s. “Cumming, of fuck yes, I’m cummin’!” He cried out in time with his television persona.

It was the combination of the vibrations, Satoru’s fast circles over your clit, and watching yourselves cum that had you gushing around your new favorite toy. You screamed, eyes rolling back into your head. You came all over the couch. Fuck when was the last time you came that hard? It was probably when you and Satoru made the video you were viewing.

“So,” Satoru asked between pants, “does the t-toy still suck?”

You didn't answer his question. You instead grabbed your phone with shaking hands, typing on the screen. Satoru was about to ask what you were doing when a little chime went off. You tossed your phone to the side before gently pulling the toy out of you.

“Aw, done already?” Satoru’s cocky voice cut off as you straddled his hips. “Y-Y/N?” You cupped his face, turning it to the side, allowing you to kiss down his neck. “Fuuuck baby.”

“Mm,” Kiss after kiss trailed down his neck, “no, I love it~ I love it so much I just bought you the matching fleshlight.”

Satoru’s large hands gripped your hips, massaging them. “Oh really?” He gasped out as you sucked and bit the crook of his neck, marking his ivory skin. “A-Are you gonna make me watch the same video when it gets here?”

“Oooh, no.” Satoru watched as you grabbed his phone, propping it against the lamp beside him. “We're making a new video,” Satoru whines louder, wincing as you bite him harder. “Oooh, good boy~ Toru~ be extra loud for us~ that way, the vibrations are super strong.”

Nanami Kento:

The second the elevator door opened, Nanmi bolted out, running towards your shared apartment. He was nearly breathless from all of the running he had done in an attempt to get home as fast as he possibly could. Fuck, if only he could teleport like Gojo, maybe his heart wouldn’t be pounding inside of his ears in fear and panic.

He had been meeting with Yaga at the school when his phone went off, alerting him of your text. You were constantly sending messages throughout the day. Asking how he was doing, what he would like for dinner, or if he needed anything while you were out shopping. He did not feel like he deserved to have someone like you in his life.

His blood ran cold when he read the screen, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.

Y/N: I need your help; please come home ASAP!

The second those words processed through his mind, he was moving. Telling Yaga there was an emergency and he needed to hurry home. Every single terrible thought rushed through his mind at once. Was there a cursed spirit chasing you? Did one of the students get hurt? Were you hurt? He needed answers to the questions that were on a constant loop in his mind.

“Y/N!?” Nanami yelled out as he entered the apartment, slamming the door behind him. “Y/N?!” No traces of cursed energy, a sign of intrusion, or blood was in sight.

”I-I’m in the bedroom, Kento.” Immediately, Nanami knew something was off with your voice. It was far too timid.

When he walked into the room, he expected to find something terrible awaiting him. Much to his relief, you were laying in bed, a blanket covering your lower body propped up against your pillows. That’s how he had left you this morning and countless other times. Either you received some bad news from your family, or there was something his observant eyes were missing.

”What happened? Are you okay? What’s the emergency?”

Your face twisted from unreadable to one to a pained one as you shifted slightly. Anyone else would have missed it, but Nanami knew everything about you. He moved so fast you gasped as he crawled on the bed, looking you over for injuries.

“What's going on?” the stern tone of his voice made this ten times more embarrassing.

You brought your hands to your face, rubbing them gently as you tried to find your words. “I-I uhm—” Peeking through your fingers, you found Nanami staring at you with that serious look. “It, uhm, it's stuck.” Could this day get any worse? God fuck, this was mortifying.

“Stuck? What's stuck, Y/N?”

“M-My toy.”

“Toy?”

Not wanting to get into the details of your activities, you sighed, slowly pulling the blanket off. Laying on the bed beside you was a bottle of lube, and as you spread your legs, Nanami hissed at the sight. A toy, one he had never seen before, was lodged inside of you. It was thick; it made your poor pussy throbbed and twitched around it. Your wet slick glistened around it.

Nanami sighed, looking away from you, trying to keep some composure. Fuck you looked so hot, but a twinge of insecurity hit him in the chest. Nanami loved using your toys on you. He didn’t see them as competition; they were more like allies. He’d do anything, use anything to make you feel good. You both were very good at communicating your needs and wants with each other. If you were horny, all you needed to do was ask him.

Even if you wanted to masturbate, he had no issue with that at all! He encouraged it. Nanami Kento was not one of those men who saw you pleasuring yourself as a hit to his ego. He bought you a lot of the toys you shared. Kento wanted you to be satisfied and happy. That’s all his heart desired.

But something about this stung. It wasn’t because he was hurt that you didn't ask for help. You were not required to tell him if you were horny or needed help. Nor was it the fact that you were getting off on your own. What it was was the fact you were in pain. You had hurt yourself. That’s what stung me the most.

“Kento?” The stoic look on his face said everything without the use of words. “Baby, look, I just, I—!”

Kento said nothing as he stood up, walking to the dresser. He shrugged out of his suit jacket; his suspenders stretched as he took his watch off before rolling the sleeves of his blue dress shirt up to his elbows. Nanami, not saying anything was more stressful than him yelling at you. The room was too tense; it was thick and suffocating as Nanami turned around, getting on the bed.

His hands slowly slid up your thighs, spreading them apart. “Let’s get this out of you.” He nearly whispered before glancing into your Y/E/C eyes. “Ready?” You nodded, giving him the approval to proceed. His hands gently grabbed the base of the toy, tugging it.

“O-Ow.” You winced, watching him closely.

Nanami clenched his jaw at your pained whine. “Did you not use enough lube?” Gently, he twisted the toy before pushing it back into you.

“Ah~!” A loud moan escaped you, hands covering your eyes. “N-No, I d-don’t fuck, ah fuck, c-could you maybe not push it back in?”

A blonde eyebrow cocked at your request. “Do you want this stuck inside forever?”

“No. I’m sorry; I’ll shut up. Fuck this is embarrassing.”

“Mm.” Nanami sat up on his knees, looking over you. “Keep your legs open.” You pouted, doing as he said, while he twisted the toy inside of you, watching your reactions closely. You withered under him, pleasure starting to replace the pain. “You should have known better, or you could have warmed yourself up a little more.” He chastised, twisting and pulling at the snug toy again.

Your hands gripped the sheets, fisting the fabric. “N-Nanami, please don’t scold me.” You whimpered, cheeks flushing under his gaze. “J-Just ah, fuck, take it out.” From the mixture of embarrassment and lust, your voice had a tone; one Nanami didn’t care for.

He clenched his jaw tight. “It’s not coming out because you pushed it too far in! So now I have to work it out!”

You whined louder; this was not the way you thought this would play out. You bought this toy for both of you. “Oh my god! Just fuckin yank it out! This is so fucking embarrassing! I wanna die right now.” You laid your elbow over your eye, hiding your teary gaze from him.

“I’m your boyfriend. Why is this embarrassing?!” It wasn’t often that Nanami snapped at you, but your attitude was getting under his skin.

“Because!! I ruined the surprise!!” You removed your arm, showing him your teary gaze. Nanami’s eyes went wide. “T-This is the custom toy we made. It was delivered this morning, and I freaked seeing how big it was. I wanted to see if it would fit because I didn’t want to ruin tonight. But I ended up ruining it anyway.”

Honey-brown eyes darted towards the toy. Kenton wasn’t able to tell from the base. But upon further inspection, he recognized the custom marble coloring of blue and yellow the two of you picked out when you designed it. The one that he had all added ridges and bumps, especially for your pleasure. You were doing a test drive for him. All for him.

“Y/N, love,” he smiled softly, “you didn’t need to do this. You wouldn’t have messed anything up. We could have taken it slow. Just because it got here didn’t mean I would want to use it. I would've helped ease you into it. Besides, you didn’t ruin anything.”

You were wiping at blubbering tears, only managing to smile and nod in agreement. It was so relieving to know you didn’t ruin the experience. Things would be perfect if this toy weren’t stuck inside of your pussy.

Nanami leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. “Mm Y/N~” Feeling his lips against you had you moaning as you kissed him back. Nanami pulled back, his cock throbbing in his pants. “Alright, let’s get this toy out of you. But I need you to put in some effort.” You hummed, nodding eagerly.

“Okay, how can I help?”

“Be good,” Nanami commanded before fucking the toy into you.

You threw your head back, turning it from side to side as the custom ridges and bumps hit your g-spot perfectly, just how Nanami had designed it. Your toes curled, thighs shaking as you gasped out cries of pleasure. Nanami smirked, listening to the squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Fuck, you like that? Your pretty cunt sounds like she loves it~.”

“Ah, fuck, yes!! Nnngh!” You gripped your pillow, staring at him through your lashes. “B-But I want you more~! Please, I want to feel you.”

“Yeah, you do?” His voice was full of faux curiosity. “But Y/N, you were bad.” His eyes were dark as he twisted the toy he fucked in in and out of you. “You got yourself into a situation, didn’t you? One that you had to call me to come fix.”

Your eyes were wide, pupils dilated, fixed on him. Fucking hell, he looked so fucking hot. Eyes dark, eyes focused on the toy he customized for you. You needed him inside of you. You needed him to be the one rearranging your guts. Slowly, you slid your foot over, rubbing your foot over the hard bulge straining in his dress pants. The contact had him hunching over, jaw-dropping as he groaned.

“Please, Ken~ I need you. I need you so bad.”

He was breathing heavily, glaring down at you. “Fine.” He yanked the toy out, chuckling at the gasp you let out as the giant toy popped out of your cunt. “Do you need me?” His hands quickly moved, undoing his belt before tugging them down as he slotted between your thighs.

“Yes Kento, I need yo—oooh!!!” Nanami’s cock slammed into you before you finished your plea.

“You feel so fucking good.” Kento tilted his head back, hips slamming into you at a pace that had you seeing stars. The veins in his neck popped out as he gritted his teeth. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so wet! You were feeling it, weren't you?”

You weren’t going to last. You were already so close. Nanami wasn’t doing any better himself. His cock throbbed deep inside of you as he set a brutal pace. Slamming in and out, fucking you as deep as he could. The tip of his cock slammed against your cervix. It was a painful pleasure that had your mouth dropping in an ‘O’ shape. God, you might die. This was too good.

Nanami grabbed your face, jerking your head to look at him. “You look at me when you cum, you fucking hear me?” His mouth was on yours, tongue sliding against yours, capturing every whine and moan you made as his cock slammed into every sweet spot.

As much as you wanted to close your eyes, you obeyed Nanami’s instructions. Y/E/C on his as you screamed into his mouth. You came, squirting, whining, and crying. Nanami pulled back, face flushed as he growled like a fucking incubus. Feeding off of you, your orgasm, every part of you. Feeling you cum, seeing that fucked out expression plastered across your flushed face. It had Nanami cumming so hard. His balls clenched as he emptied his seed inside of you, painting your walls.

“Fuuuck, Y/N, fuuuck.” His hips slowed, his hands gently massaging your hips as he laid down with you. His arms wrapped around you, spooning you close. “I love you, god, you’re perfect.”

Breathing heavily, you giggled, relaxing in his arms. “I-I love you too.” You lazily smiled as you ran your fingers over his forearms, tracing shapes. “Thanks for saving me, Kento.”

His chest vibrated with a rich chuckle, lips grazing your neck. “Anything for you my love.” His lips pressed against your cheek, and you knew he meant every word.

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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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Teen Dad (OP81)

(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)

Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids

Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.

“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.

“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed.

“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed.

“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.”

He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose.

Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one.

“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.

“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.

After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others

oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.

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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #oscar piastri #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #op81

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viennakarma · 2 months

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Something you paid for

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.

So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.

After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.

A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.

Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.

You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.

A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.

He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes.

You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.

You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.

“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”

“Is she a gold digger, really?”

“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”

“Has anyone warned Fernando?”

“Everyone.”

You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.

You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.

When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.

“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.

“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”

“Even two,” he joked.

You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.

“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”

You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.

In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.

After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.

“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.

You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.

Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.

When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.

“Dear, can we get the tab please?”

“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”

Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.

“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”

“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”

“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.

“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”

You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.

You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.

Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.

When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.

Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.

“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”

He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.

“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.

“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.

“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.

“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.

“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?

“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”

Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”

You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.

“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”

“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”

His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.

“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”

“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?

“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.

“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”

He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.

“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”

You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.

“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?

“Fernando.”

“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.

You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.

Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well?

Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.

What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?

You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.

After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.

It was time to fix it.

Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.

“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.

“I didn’t sleep.”

He paused, looking at your face.

“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”

“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.

“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”

He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.

“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.

“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”

“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”

“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.

“I’m serious, Fernando.”

“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”

“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”

“You took them.”

“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”

“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”

You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.

“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”

“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”

“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.

“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”

“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.

“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”

In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.

“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”

“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”

You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.

“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off.

Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.

You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.

You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.

Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.

You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.

He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.

The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.

Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.

“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.

“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.

“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”

“No- no- I guess we broke up.”

“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.

“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand.

Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.

“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.

“What rumors?” George paused.

“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.

“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.

“I might have implied that I agree with that.”

“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”

“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”

“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.

“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”

Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.

“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.

“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.

“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”

“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”

Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.

Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.

Home didn’t feel like home without you.

In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.

You had returned every single thing.

And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.

It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.

While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.

You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.

Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind.

“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”

After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.

“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.

“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.

“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”

Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.

“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.

“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.

“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”

Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.

With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.

One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.

“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”

You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.

“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.

“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”

You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.

“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”

He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.

“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.

“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”

You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.

“Come back home with me, princesa.”

At that, you took a step back.

“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”

“What?”

“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.

“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.

“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.

“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”

He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.

And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend.

Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.

You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.

You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.

“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”

“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”

He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.

As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company.

“What do we do about all your gifts?”

“Give them away,” you shrugged.

“Can I convince you to take it back?”

“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”

You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.

“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”

“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.

“You won’t.”

Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #Spotify

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smuttyaf · 5 months

Text

I Hate You

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞

wc: 5.4k

“If you don’t stop I’m going to jam that pen through your ear.”

That makes the curly brunette man take his thumb off the button, eyes shifting to give a sidelong glance at you, his mouth slightly agape as he takes in the words.

You had enough of the fingers drumming against the wooden table, the shifting around in his seat constantly, and you definitely had it when he begin clicking his pen away as if you weren’t beside him through this whole class.

“I wanna see you try.” He whispers back, his head turning to smirk at you as his pen now taps against the table gently. Oh, did you want to ring your hands around his neck.

Harry Styles, the man on campus that everyone is friends with and the one that has all the ladies gossiping about. Despite him being known for his social life he also was part of a fraternity. They were popular for throwing the most outrageous parties but also pulling the stupidest pranks throughout the year— you absolutely despised them. Sloppy drinking, chain-smoking, and making themselves look like complete idiots streaking during the schools football games.

So when you walked into your English Lit class and your teacher decided to sit you next to each other for the whole semester, you wanted to claw your eyes out. Every class he would come in and purposely let his bag hit your head, his feet kicking the leg of your chair as his knees would dig into your lower back before taking his seat. At first, you paid no mind to it because it was a tight space to fit in, however when it became an everyday occurrence and his sarcastic smile and fake tone of apologies would start you would just roll your eyes.

But, him sitting next you in class wasn’t the worse thing… It was the fact that your dorm roommate was dating one of his fraternity brothers. So nearly every weekend or event that they hosted, you always managed to get dragged along to have him pick on you.

You didn’t like Harry at all. You didn’t like his stupid curls, his laugh, or tattoos that make him look like a unfinished scrapbook, and you definitely did not like the fact that he stares back at you as if you were a joke.

You squint your eyes at him and press your lips together, your fingers that were pressed into the keys of your laptop curling in on themselves as you resist the urge to strike him.

“Easy there,” He chuckles, his eyes flickering to your balled up fists before turning his head towards the teacher, the grey haired man stands in front of the podium making drastic gestures with his hands. “You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” Harry questions, his pen going behind his ear as he closes his laptop and notebook, stuffing it into his bag.

Before you know it, Mr. Dawson is announcing the homework for over the weekend while telling everyone he’ll see them Monday. The seat next to you pushes away from the table, and you feel his feet kick your chair and knees dig into your back. Only making your fists grow even tighter, you plant your feet flat on the carpet and push your chair against his bent legs, that makes a groan escape Harry’s lips as you stand with your closed laptop and bag, eyes staring into each other as you look at him amused.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” You mock him before tugging off to the library.

Why couldn’t you have one encounter with him were he wasn’t a complete dickhead.

White mini skirt and matching tube top cling to your skin, the pink cropped leather jacket shifted tightly on your shoulders as your feet tip toe towards the mirror to see yourself. You thought you looked stupid, but Faye thought otherwise.

“You need to dress like this more,” She insisted, her brown eyes wide as they scaled your body. You shook your head and groan.

“Like a joke?” You sigh, your head leaning to the side as you looked at your figure. You were never one to dress in revealing clothes, you loved crewnecks and cargo pants, especially your Converses and Vans.

“Hey!” Faye says while giving you a puzzled look.

“You know what I mean, this stuff looks good on you… not me…” You say, body now turning in the mirror to see your side profile.

You had no choice but to dress as if you were a plastic doll. The Barbie movie just recently came out which made Faye’s boyfriend, Niall, think it would be a good idea to throw a party insisting everyone dress up as if they were in “Barbie’s Dream House”. That’s why you’re standing in the mirror, white opened toed heels and curled hair staring back at you as Faye tried to make you look like Biker Barbie.

“You look hot Y/N, don’t overthink it,” She says while taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you gently, making you let out a nervous laugh.

She’s right, don’t overthink it, you’ll most likely be surrounded by dim lights and drunken bodies that no one will even notice your change of appearance.

However, despite those words that played over and over again in the back of your head, your thoughts begin to fill as you stepped into the house. Each person you passed by, gazing their eyes over your skin, lazy smiles sent your way while winks would drop other times, and you just simply wanted to disappear.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Faye yells in your ear over the pumping music. You nod your head in agreement and made your way into the familiar kitchen.

“Fancy seeing you here!” The usual Irish voice of Niall calls to Faye as he brings her into embrace. You let a small smile slip on your lips before you see Harry next to him with an amused face.

As Faye and Niall chatted with each other while taking red cups apart to pour liquor in, Harry stepped closer to you; his curls are tossed away behind his ears as he had a sleeveless light blue jean jacket with matching pants on, his tattoos exposed and glistening against the lights.

“You look good for once!” He quips, his red cup knocking against his chest. The smile falls from your lips as you send daggers at him.

“Do you ever shut up,” You say, your eyes tearing away from him and to the red cup that Faye hands you.

“Hey! I was being nice for once!” Harry chimed, lips dropping into a pout as you watch his free hand raise to his chest in hurt. Instead, you ignore him and pay attention to whatever Faye was talking about but that doesn’t last long when you feel a finger poke your hip and you’re glaring back at the tattooed man.

“Am I not Kenough?” He questions, and that only makes you snort as a laugh trails out after, understanding his reference. “There it is,” Harry grins as he takes a drink from his cup. You only roll your eyes and focus back on the previous conversation.

“Whatever,” You mutter while taking a sip of your overly strong drink.

Soon that cup turned to four more, the overthinking thoughts about how embarrassing you thought you looked tonight slipped your mind as you were dancing with the cute boy in your Social Science course, your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck as he runts his hips against your backside.

For once, you were actually happy that you came to the party and drunk more than your normal limit. You were fed up with school and with midterms around the corner, you needed this type of fun. As you felt the room beginning to twist in your version, you turn around in Caleb’s hold and let your hands rest along his chest.

“Tired?” He questions, brown eyes peering down at you as his lips tucked into his teeth. You nodded your head in response, your finger tips feeling over his flannel as you lean into him.

“Let’s go upstairs Kels,” Caleb leans down and whispers but that only makes a frown tug on your lips.

“Kels? I’m Y/N.” You state, tone filled with annoyance that the man you had your eyes on in class had his elsewhere. You feel his head move away from your ear, his eyes raking over your face as a goofy grin begins to spread.

“Oh! Y/N! You look so different… you’re not dressed like a boy, I like it!” Caleb says, only making your stomach twist in disgust.

“Yeah…” You say, small smile replacing the frown as you feel yourself step back from his touch. “I’m just gonna go to the washroom,” You rush, tearing away from his hold and not waiting for his response.

You felt your throat begin to swell as you tried to push your way through the mess of people on the makeshift dance floor. You’re not dressed like a boy. Was he serious? That’s what he thought when he saw you? Even the fact that he called you someone else’s name! You wanted to crawl into your bed and die.

Shouts begin to ring out as the floor vibrates, everyone jumping to the party anthem playing which only makes your exit out of the living room worse. You felt your cheeks heat up and tears at the brim of your eyes, just wanting to go to the bathroom as soon as possible to let them escape.

But just your luck, as the chorus rings through the air the floor boards pound under your heels, you feel cool liquid running from your chest to your stomach. Brown booze dripping on the burrowed two piece outfit and at that point you feel your ears burn, and if you could grow horns out of your head you’re sure they would be there.

Your gaze turns away from your sticky stomach and towards the culprit who spilled it on you, your eyes meeting the familiar green ones who sits next to you in English. As your lips press together and your finger nails leave indents in your skin, you watch Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drop in complete shock.

“I— I’m so sorry.. I d—didn’t mean too—“

“I hate you.” You spew, cutting him off and giving him an icy glare. Your body immediately brushing past him and traveling upstairs to get away from the party that you now wished you didn’t attend at all.

Of course, Harry had to be the one to top off this moment and ruin your outfit that you know you’d have to pay Faye back for— because this was definitely not coming out. You could handle his kicking and snarky comments, but draw the line at him completely damaging something that didn’t belong to you.

You were pissed, drunk, and wanted to be buried six feet under; but instead you stomped your way up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the stain taking up the white material, only making your eyes press shut as you feel tears begin to trail down your cheeks. This was so embarrassing; first you’re wearing something you wouldn’t ever step out in, you finally have a moment with the guy you’ve been staring at since the beginning of the semester— just for him to say you dress like a boy! And to top it off, now you have a full cup of god knows what all over you. This night sucked.

“Y/N…” You hear Harry’s voice behind the door with a knock. You open your eyes and roll them, throat letting a sigh slip out as you run your fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“What.” You say back, turning around to rest your back against the sink.

“I—I’m being so honest with you, I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I promise, it was a mistake.” Harry said behind the door, his voice muffled but you can tell for once he actually sounds sincere, but who knows he also could be faking it to make you feel better.

“Sure Harry,” You called back, hand leaning down as you rake your fingers through your hair, the tear streaks drying on your skin and making your cheeks feel tight when you speak.

With surprise you heard the rumble of the door knob and soon is faced with Harry who actually has a sad look written on his features.

“Ever heard of privacy,” You mutter, your eyes tearing away from his and looking at the white tiled floor.

“It’s my bathroom,” Harry responds, only making you suck in your breath and fingers drum against the porcelain sink, not realizing it was his room you escaped too.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, eyes still down as you break away from your stance and move towards the door. That only makes Harry stand in front of you and block your movements.

“No it’s okay don’t worry, it’s my fault. Believe me Y/N, I really didn’t mean to fuck up your outfit.” He says, genuinely which makes your gaze tear and lock with his. Your breath catches in your throat because for once he doesn’t have a menacing look.

“Okay.” You say, lips being sucked into your mouth as your stare never wavers.

“L—Let me get you a change of clothes,” Harry urges, his feet stepping back as he makes his way out of the bathroom and walk over to his dresser. This makes you trail behind him as your hands tug at the bottom of the dirty skirt riding up.

“Oh spare clothes of the girls you sleep with, yay,” You sarcastically remarked, heels clicking against the floor boards as you followed him.

“Ha ha.” Harry says, his voice serious as he dug into his top drawer and pulled out a plain black tee. That only makes you chew down on your lip, your fingers taking the garment in your hand, eyes running over how big it is compared to your frame.

“Trust me, everyone will be too drunk to remember what people were wearing tonight,” He spoke, both of his hands going to either side of him as he leans against the dresser, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but the way he is against the furniture with his jacket opened displaying his tattoos, has your mind forgetting about his treatment towards you over the past few months.

“I figured,” You mumble as you tear the t-shirt away from your chest and your eyes flicker between it and the brunette before you. “Uh.. can you turn around?” You question while beginning to shrug off the pink leather jacket.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harry scoffs while tearing his tattooed arm off the dresser and letting his hand cover his eyes. You scoff while kicking off your heels and tugging the damp clothing off your skin. “What?” Harry counters, you see his eyebrows push together in his palm as he questions your response.

“I just dress like a boy… that’s all. I bet I’m not exactly the girl you look at…” You mumble, the feeling of the clean fabric running down your skin makes your fingers gaze over it.

“I think you dress cute,” Harry confesses. The compliment making your cheeks heat up and your palms grow with sweat. You really shouldn’t even be glowing from his words. This was the guy who tormented you since September; hitting you with his book bag, giving snarky comments and mean jabs. Why are his words making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You’re just saying that, let’s not forget what you said in the kitchen…” You respond, leaning down and picking up the drenched clothing and balling them together. “You can look now.” You state, as you see him put his hand down and give you a bright smile. The way he’s acting so different from what you’re use to, maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems.

“You know I was just teasing… but why does it even matter?” Harry ask, that only makes your eyes tear away and look at your polished toes running over each other against the dark hard wood.

“It’s nothing… it’s whatever really,” You sigh, fingers now playing with the ends of his shirt.

“Is that what the guy you were dancing with told you?” Harry asks, only making your head snap up and send him questioning gaze.

“You were watching me?” You inquire. His turn to now dip his head down and avoid your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that… I just noticed, that’s all.” He says, his head swinging a bit as he lifts himself off the dresser and makes a step towards you, his hand taking the wet clothes.

“Promise I’ll get the stain out,” He remarks, a goofy look on his face and that only makes you smirk.

“Make that promise to Faye, not me.”

“Fuck… She’s gonna have me dead.”

The two of you erupting in drunken laughter at the image of Faye seeing her ruined garments, just knowing the screaming match she’ll have with Harry.

“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” You asked, your hand reaching to your chest as you try to regain your breath.

“You’re the one who hates me,” Harry says giving you a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s mean to me.” You remark your chin tilting as you stare up at him.

“You can’t even blame me,” He smiles while rolling his eyes, his arms crossing over each other and the heat of him radiates onto your body. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” His head leaning down and placing a small peck on your lips.

You were stunned in place, your eyes still open as he continues to place small kisses on your lips. As you leaned in closer to him, his hands tore away from his chest to drop the clothes and hold your hips. What the fuck was actually going on right now? You were really kissing Harry and it felt good— you didn’t want to admit.

The peppering kisses turned into lips syncing onto each other, your eyes now fluttering shut while your hands lie on his inked chest. It felt so wrong but the way his lips tasted of cherry coke and rum, you wanted to get drunk off it.

Deep breathes and needy hands were soon shared between the both, your fingers were now running through the hair on the nape of his neck while his roams your backside. The way his huge hands were pushing your cheeks and shoving you closer to him made you wet.

You pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva linking you too together which makes Harry smirk, his eyes glossy and lips bruised red. You wanted to fuck him so bad.

“You’re a shit kisser.” You remark. His smirk falling as his hands tighten around your ass.

“Shut up,” He mutters before pressing his lips roughly against yours, his fingers slipping deeper to cup your bum, some digits gliding over your heat only making you whimper at the touch.

His tongue tangled with yours as his chest closed the space left between you two. Harry’s weight molding onto you as he forces you to take steps back until your knees hit the bed frame and you’re falling back onto the mattress. You let your elbows push you up on the bed, your eyes locking with his as he lowers himself on you, his lips pressing back against you as your thighs bring him in.

His clothed member pushes against your heat which only makes a whimper escape, you still can’t get over that he has his tongue in your mouth but now you’re making him hard. Was this really the same guy you were cussing at just a few hours ago.

Harry’s hands move away from your shoulders and spread to where your thighs hold him, the way his hands feel running down your skin has you pushing yourself deeper into his touch.

“Easy there…” He mutters against your lips when he pulls away, his lips traveling to your neck to then run over your clothed breasts, his eyes looking to yours as his lips gaze your nipples. You wanted to moan at the sight, the way his curls surrounded his face, his green orbs staring back at you while he descended down your body.

“Harry,” You whisper when you feel his breath rush over your stomach, his hands slipping under his shirt and feeling over your hips before playing with the band of your panties.

His response to the call of his name, was peeling the material down your legs and his mouth pressing open kisses onto your hip bone. Your heart beat was making your chest hurt from how nervous yet excited you are; was this really about to happen?

Your question was soon answered when you felt his breath against your heat, his hands pushing the shirt over your hips as you watch his curls brush against your inner thighs when you feel him lick a stripe up your folds. This made you dig your teeth into your bottom lip because, yeah this was happening.

Green eyes looking back at you as his tongue runs back up your slit to let it circle around your clit, lips suckling on the nerves before dangling it with his tongue again. This made your head knock back and your eyes flutter shut, he was teasing you, like he always does.

His mouth repeats those motions as moans tremble from your lips, head resting on your shoulder as you look at him sucking your folds. You let your free hand run through his hair, tugging at it lightly.

“I know you can do better than that.” You remark, eyes batting at him slowly as you push back down on him. In that moment you swear you watched his eyes glaze over a different shade, his hands gripping against your hips roughly as he lets his tongue delve into you.

Thick and slicked with spit his muscle flexed it’s way between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked into you, humming against your heat as his nails left indents in your skin. Words can’t even express how it felt, the way his tongue just roamed inside you so wickedly that it had whimpers and moans leave you.

The view of him was even better, his eyes fluttering as he looked like he was pleased with the way you tasted, his hair falling over his forehead. The look of Harry between your legs only makes you moan again and squeeze your thighs against his face, his fingers bruising your skin from how hard he’s holding you.

You let your back completely fall to the mattress, both hands now carding though his hair as you let your hips roll against his mouth, his tongue now lying flat against your heat as he lets you ride him. Hips running up and down the expanse of his muscle, clit smoothing against taste buds as you work yourself on him, Harry’s mouth moaning against your pussy as he peeled his eyes open to stare at you, the sight making you moan immediately.

You were too tipsy to even comprehend that this was actual reality; you were suppose to hate Harry, despise him! Yet, he was between your legs and sending shockwaves throughout your nerves.

Fingers tighten in the curly locks as your hips stutter and jerk on his tongue, the sinking feeling in your abdomen tightens as your orgasm creeps upon you. The feeling of his fingers pushing down on your hips making you seep deeper into the mattress, and moan at the roughness of his touch.

The ball in your stomach begins to build, your chest breathing in shallow breaths as your thighs twitch, his tongue licking you into bliss. Just as you feel the nerves in your stomach nearly burst, the heat of his muscle tears away and makes a cry leave your lips while Harry placed wet kisses up your body.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you get off this easy,” Harry hums against you, his hands leaving your hips and letting it rake his shirt over your head. They then go to take off his jacket and tug his jeans down, your hands immediately going to peel his boxers down his thighs.

“For someone who hates me so much, you really want my dick right now,” He mutters, his hand going to his exposed member and rubbing himself, the sight making you clench your legs.

Now, you can really see what the girls on your campus were talking about; the way his hair dropped in loose curls surrounding his face, tattoos that flex so nicely in the dim lighting of the room, and the way he’s staring at you like he’s craving you. You finally see it.

Harry lets himself run against your heat, his head lying on your clit and rubbing over it only making you suck in a breath. He was pressed so nice and warm against you while toying with your nerves. Seconds later, he leans down and lets drool slip from between his lips to trace down his dick to drip between your exposed folds. You wanted to look at this sight forever, but you hate the fact that you like this so much but can’t help but too, Harry was hot you had to admit.

The thoughts leave your mind when you feel his head slip into you, edging himself back out slowly before continuing to seep back in. Once again, he was teasing you but you had enough with this game since you just wanted the feeling of him inside you finally.

You let your hands dig into the sheets while moving your hips down on him, his dick slipping deeper into you which only elects moans from both of you. The thickness of him buried around your tight walls sends a blissful sensation of yourself stretching around him, your mouth hangs slightly open while your eyes flutter.

Harry doesn’t take the chance to tease you anymore, instead he slips all of himself inside of you before drawing back slowly and sinking into your dripping pussy. His head leaning down to lay in the crook of your neck and press kisses against the skin there, while he continue to peel his hips back and dive back into you.

“Pussy feels so good,” Harry grunts into your ear as he begins to pick up the pace and smack his hips against yours.

Your eyes peel open and let your hands rest along his ribs, your head knocked back into the pillows and gaze caught between the loose ringlets of his curls and the popcorn ceiling, as the sound of the wetness between your legs is accompanied by the slamming of his hips fills the room. You couldn’t remember the last time you had mind blowing sex like this, it must be months now. But, the wait was definitely worth it, because the feeling of Harry’s dick diving into you while his grunts and moans filled your ear was something that you wanted to last forever.

Yet, you still couldn’t believe it was him doing this to you. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this. The man you’re suppose to hate is filling your walls and captivating every cell in your body to fall under his spell.

“You fill me up so—“ You’re words being cut off when you feel Harry pull himself out until his head is breached and thrust back into you, the motions repeating themselves which only makes your mouth hang open and your nails sink into his skin.

Completely cut off guard by the change of his rhythm, you were starstruck. Your eyes fluttering close and letting him do absolutely whatever he wanted to you, just accepting the fact that he was digging into you so deliciously that you had no words to express what you were feeling.

The smell of rum and cherry fills your nose as you feel his lips link with you, his mouth moaning when your tongues lock together, hips never stopping their tantalizing movements. The feeling of him filling up your pussy with his thickness, the way you managed to become more wet by the different flow of his hips, the way his body heat covered you like a blanket.

The familiar feeling of your climax welcomes you again as Harry keeps on thrusting himself inside of you. The ball in your stomach, unraveling with each stroke only making your thighs clench tighter and pull him into you more.

“Mhm… you like me fucking you?” Harry breathes against your lips only making you cry out in frustration as you feel yourself beginning to come apart underneath him, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this is only bringing it on even more.

You nodded your head silently, eyes fluttering open to peer into his olive ones while his bushy eyebrows were knit together.

“Answer me,” He continues his hand that was by your head wrapping around your throat and you knew just by the feeling of his fingers against the skin there, you were done.

“Yes,” You cried out, eyes never tearing away as you felt the bundle of nerves in your stomach burn inside you. Your legs shaking, thighs wrapping tighter around him and nails now dragging down his sides tiredly as the feeling of pure euphoria washes over you.

Harry thrusts however never slowed down, he kept the rhythm while staring down at you, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he watched your face go through phases of pleasure. Your fingers leave his back and trail to his neck, legs hanging loosely around him while you stare back up at him, the beating in your heart slowing down compared to the way it was erratically beating before.

“You’re so hot when you come all over me,” He mutters, his head dipping down and now sucking bruises onto your skin. Butterflies spread in your stomach and to stop a smile from forming you bite the inside of your cheek.

His hips begin to slow, breath blowing over you shallowly and the feeling of him sliding between your walls steadily, only making you crane your neck to the side to get him to look at you. Harry tears his head away from your neck, his lips stuck between his teeth and brows still furrowed.

“Fuck,” He grunts, the feeling of him buried in your heat immediately withdrawn as his warm seed spills on your stomach. You watch his chest heave up and down as he regains his breath. Soon, the warmth of him leaves your body as you watch him sit back on his knees, his arm reaching over to his discarded shirt you once wore and wiping away the fluid.

“Seems like you just make a mess everywhere you go,” You remark, that only makes Harry let out a small laugh before tossing his shirt on the floor. He tugs his boxers over his hips and kicks the rest of his jeans off, you let yourself slip into the sheets while he lies next you.

The room grows quiet, the only sound being heard is the party downstairs. Now your thoughts run wild, you’ve sobered up a bit but still in a daze, wondering if Harry is regretting what just happened.

“Are you going to go back to hating me after this?” Harry asked, his voice deep as he turned to look you.

Fingers twisting together, you let your gaze turn away from him and look at the sheets before you. If you were being honest, you were more confused then anything about what this meant and how you felt towards him now; you couldn’t explain how you felt, still stuck between the way he treated just hours before to how he made you feel just minutes ago, how can you explain what you feel?

“You’ll just have to wait and see…”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #smuttyaf #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry styles fic rec #frat boy harry #fratboy!harry

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rizsu · 1 year

Text

wife on the low manjiro, sanzu.

sum. babysitter!reader. idk where i was going with this one

manjirō sano

tension. too much tension. it's not easy trying to focus on a happy baby when you have two eyes digging through your soul. his gaze is terrifying—whether it's just the way he's just there quietly or the fact that he's bonten's leader, you don't know. he's a scary man.

trying your best to ignore whatever he's doing, you focus on cheerful baby that's been slapping her hands continuously on the little container with water.

she's five months currently so you decided it's time for sensory playtime! starting off with water and slowly adding little sensory toys into the container as she plays.

“it's getting messy.”

“oh—should we stop?”

“no, continue. i'll clean up.”

mikey pushes himself off of the door's frame and wanders off to some room for a mop. he walks away with thoughts swimming in his head; delusional thoughts if you asked him.

he doesn't really know what is it that he's feeling. is it love? dunno. he never felt it in a long time. well, it's not like he remembers what love felt like—he didn't even love the mother of his daughter. hell he can't even remember what possessed him to have sex.

coming back into the playroom, he stills for a moment. cute, he thinks. you look fitting like that. something about the way you're giggling with his daughter while she babbles words only those of her kind understands really makes his heart swell.

“'m back,” he announces after a good few minutes of gawking.

moving the baby onto her crib, you pinch her cheek before going to help mikey.

so close, you think. his body's just above yours—close to the point where you can feel his sweater on your head. his hands moves on yours taking hold of the container.

you made the mistake of glancing at him,, now you're stuck gazing into his static eyes, looking for any hints of his current emotion.

five seconds turned into ten and he doesn't break the eye contact. rather, his right hand glides from the container and rests itself on your cheek.

does he know why he did that? no.

is he going to elaborate? also no.

a few more minutes in wondering silence until he breaks it.

“you're pretty.”

oh!

it takes a minute to process it; eyes opened but still looking into his. mikey drifts his gaze from your lips and back to your eyes. he shows no signs of taking back what he said.

“thank...you..?”

chuckling, he notes your confusion and decides to fuel it by saying: “you're welcome. be my girlfriend.”

sanzu haruchiyo

“pick a colour: blue or red.”

“how about no!” hoisting up his daughter on your hip, you circle around the table making your way to the kitchen as you ignore his attempts of getting you to pick the drug of the day.

sanzu raises his eyebrow at you. you sure have a lot of nerve in front of someone that can easily kill you but he won't. why would he kill you when he isn't sure if he, sober!sanzu, loves you or if he, high!sanzu, is just fucking around.

eh, it's not like he's worried. that's something for future him to worry about!!

“sanzu, her formula's about to end!” shouting from the kitchen as you violently shake her bottle, you faced your focus more on the quiet eight month old rather than the twenty-eight years old father.

“is that all?” sanzu moves on arm behind the couch as he looks back at you. she's a natural with kids—especially mine, he thinks. he's going to blame the drugs for that even though he's very much sober.

“yeah, is it okay if i use your card? i need to stock up on the groceries too.” you explained, dropping a few droplets of the milk on your forearm to check the temp.

“why're you askin' me? it's your card. i took it out for you.”

“because i don't wanna—oh???” you paused. sanzu, your boss, couldn't have possibly taken out another card for you right? certainly, right? god, it's so hard to focus after he said those words. you try to not think too much of it but it's just too difficult.

lost in thought, you didn't realize that he's already in front of you, holding up his mini to give her a nose kiss before looking back at you.

“looks like she's finished. let's go.” walking towards to door, sanzu grabs his keys from the holder along with his mask.

“huh—oh, right her stuff. just a minute!” you can't seem to think coherently, not when those words still linger fresh in your mind.

maybe it's the drugs,

maybe it's you,

maybe it's him,

maybe it's the way he holds your hand firmly while smiling whenever an elderly lady compliments your little “family”,

or maybe it's the way he guides you into his room at night after his daughter fell asleep, pulling you into a kiss that answers all questions.

#+ rizsu: tokyo revengers.#tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #mikey x reader #sanzu x reader #manjiro sano fluff #sanzu fluff #tokyo revengers drabbles

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goodiegoddesselle · 2 months

Text

my favorite pair | L. DH

pairing: enemy roommate!haechan x reader

genre: smut, sir/daddy dom, unprotected sex, degradation, pervert haechan lol, enemies to lovers, uses doll/toy as a nickname

summary: you see one day that your annoying roommate, haechan, hasn't done his laundry and just left his basket by the washing machine. sure, this is irritating, but it reminded you to do your own. when you finally start getting your own clothing, you notice that your favorite pair of underwear is missing. on top of noticing that, you notice that your roommate, who moves around the apartment a lot normally, hasn't left his room at all that day either.

wc: 3k

minors dni. dont like, dont read.

______________________________________________________

You were tired of him. Tired of the dishes constantly sitting in the sink. Tired of his friends constantly being piled up on the couch, like you didn’t live there too. Tired of all the noise from his gaming—finally, it truly occurred to you just how tired you were of your roommate Lee Haechan.

For the most part, he didn’t do much but sit around and annoy you, whether or not he actually did his chores. It was almost like he messed with you on purpose. Despite all of this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from still having a partially hidden crush on him.

Yes, sadly, you did have a crush on him. You did, but there’s only so much you can do about having a crush on someone that doesn’t really get along with you the way you truly would’ve liked. It was almost impossible not to, nonetheless, seeing as Haechan was one of the most gorgeous men out there. His hair was long, golden and wavy, his eyes glowed a glistening honey color, and his voice was sultry with the perfect tenor tone. And with the amount of talents this man had, there really wasn’t anything you couldn’t like him for.

Did Haechan know about this crush, though? Never in a million years. You figured you would die before he even came close to knowing about it, let alone actually knowing. Especially since he was so irritating to you, even at that moment.

“Ugh, can you actually do your damn chores Haechan? I would like to take a break too, y’know!” you called out. You were in your room, digging through your clothes after seeing his laundry basket lying next to the washing machine. You figured you might as well do the laundry anyway, since he wasn’t getting around to it and your clothing was beginning to pile up inside your room.

A deep sigh left you as you dug through your underwear and recognized that something was wrong. It was gone—your favorite pair of panties was missing, and oddly enough, this was the first time that has ever happened to you. Your eyebrows scrunched in complete confusion. Where the hell could they have possibly gone?

You searched a little further, peeking under your pillows and through the rest of the drawers until Haechan’s lack of movement started making you curious. Sure, he was annoying, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t another human, and he typically moved around the apartment a lot more than he was that day.

Immediately you turned around, walked out of your room, and headed to the bedroom next to yours. It wouldn’t take much to get in his room anyway, seeing as he was either playing a game or sleeping with all the grunting he was letting out.

At least, you thought so.

You simply knocked on his door twice before letting yourself in, ready to talk about his laundry until your eyes landed on your roommate, who rushed to pull his blanket over his completely nude body. The squat you would have to do to pick up your jaw would probably give you the strongest legs on Earth.

“Woah!” he yelled, his eyes wide as he scrambled to hide his hands under the blanket as well. “I, um—I was just, uh, I-I…”

“There’s no need to explain, Haechan,” you interrupted, a smirk slowly spreading across your face, “I already saw them. Really? That’s what you’ve been doing?” The laugh that left you made his face turn the hottest shade of red.

It wasn’t hard to see Haechan holding your favorite panties in his hand. For once, you weren’t angry about it either. It was, however, a teeny bit shocking instead. You didn’t know that he was like this at all, seeing as every time one of your pairs would go missing, you would find it somewhere in your room the day after. The whole time you just figured it was you making them disappear. At least, until now.

You walked a little closer to him, closing the door behind you and giggling lowly. “Lee Haechan, when were you ever going to tell me that you are the world's most hidden pervert?” you asked. It was like he was frozen in place, internally freaking out as you leaned in and ran your thumb across his chin, his breath completely silent. “Well? What are you going to say about all this?”

“You know what, I was going to find an excuse, but since you want the truth so bad…” Haechan sat up, suddenly grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from his chin while pulling you closer. Your eyes widened as he held up your underwear again. His lips rose into a cocky grin as he waved them back and forth, watching the annoyance cover your face all over again. “It’s one thing to want you this badly, y’know, but you make it really easy to come and get these. And if you want them back, babe, this time you’re going to have to work for it.”

You scoffed. “Work for it? When it belongs to me? Guess you’re always like this, huh?”

“Like what, Y/N?”

“So goddamn infuriating!” you answered, rolling your eyes. Haechan laughed and leaned closer and closer to you, all the way to the point where your lips were almost touching, but not quite yet.

“Do you know you only get hotter and hotter the angrier you get?” Haechan replied. “If you didn’t want me to be so ‘goddamn infuriating’, then stop being so goddamn hot.”

He closed the distance between you two, tilting his head and pressing his lips to yours. It took no time at all for you to respond to it. You kissed him back fervently and climbed further onto his lap, sliding your hands onto his shoulders and taking his words and actions as an invitation to fight back. It was hard to reject him, after all, especially after feeling his teeth graze against your bottom lip several times.

The feeling of Haechan’s arms wrapping around your hips brought you into a high you didn’t even know you could reach, only getting higher and higher as he leaned down to your neck, slowly leaving kisses and sucking marks onto your warm skin. Crowds of moans left your lips, making him bite even harder. Out of nowhere, he flipped the two of you over and shoved you onto his mattress.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks or how much I infuriate you, babe,” Haechan whispered into your ear, licking the shell of it, “you’re mine whether you like it or not.” He tossed the panties away from the bed and went back to leaving hot kisses on your lips and neck. But this time, you could feel his fingers sliding down your torso, all the way until he reached your pajama shorts and pushed under them. Another chuckle left him, and you could feel your face scorching from embarrassment, knowing damn well that he was laughing because you weren’t wearing anything under them. Your lips separated for a moment, but shut shortly after, shyness killing your effort to say something before he did. Haechan, however, already knew where you were headed with that.

“Oh? What, do you only wear your favorite ones?” Despite knowing it was a genuine question on his end, you really couldn’t find it in you to answer him. You even looked away, but that had no point, especially since he grabbed your jawline and immediately pulled your head back into facing him.

“Look at me when I speak to you, and don’t make me tell you again,” Haechan ordered. “You can use your words, doll. In fact, I’d like it better if you did.”

“Um, n-no, I don’t,” you stuttered back. Haechan’s gaze alone was intimidating you, which only made the situation ten times better than when it began. In fact, it got even better than that, right when his fingers started lazily rubbing at your cunt, slipping between your lips and toying with your clit. A loud groan filled the room the moment he began.

Haechan slid two of his fingers into you while keeping his eyes on yours. “For someone that loves talking about how annoying I am, you’re pretty wet right now. Soaked, even,” he teased, fingers massaging at your sweet spot gently. “It’s real cute.”

A frown crossed your face. You wanted so badly to say something back to that, but there wasn’t much to say back to the truth, really. However, as he picked up the speed of his fingers, the frown died within a few seconds, followed by his name being pulled out of you. Each second after, you could feel yourself getting closer to finishing, and you were completely ready for it—until he ripped his hand out of you. At first you were upset about it, but then you saw him licking your essense off of his fingers with an evil grin on his face, and that settled right away, being replaced with the need for him to put something much bigger back where his hand was.

Haechan pulled his fingers out of his mouth and chuckled, saying, “don’t think I can’t tell when you’re almost there; you made that face like you were ready to explode.”

Another pout crossed your face. “Then why didn’t you let me get there?” you asked. His face straightened out as he looked at you like you truly didn’t understand the situation you put yourself in at the moment. Again, he grabbed your chin and made you face him, his eyes flaring now instead of swirling with honey like usual.

“Did you really think I was just going to let you cum and we’d be done here? When you haven’t even thought about what you need to do for me too? Get up.” His hand slipped away as he climbed off of you, gesturing for you to rise up as well and take your shorts off. Despite being ordered to, another thought came to your mind and you figured things would definitely get different if you followed it. This time, a smirk crossed your face instead, and you crossed your arms.

“If you want me to get up, make me, then,” you baited, watching a look of surprise spread across his face before disappearing quickly. Before you could even see what he was planning to do, his hand shot across the bed like lightning and grasped your wrist again, startling you. Somehow you knew where this was headed for you.

“Last I checked, doll, I told you not to make me have to tell you again,” Haechan growled, ripping you off of the bed and in front of him, “but if you’re going to make me, you’re going to find out why I warned you to begin with. Shorts, off. Now.”

Completely filled with intimidation, you wasted no time in pulling your pajama shorts off this time, being completely nude from the waist down. Haechan’s gaze swept over you before he lifted your shirt up and leaned in, lips heading for your chest, right below your neck this time. He began leaving spots all over it, suckling onto your skin and heading lower and lower each time. You couldn’t help yourself from whining as he did it, grabbing at his shoulders again as your legs shook.

“H-Hae…” you mumbled, grip tightening around him. Haechan’s teeth grazed across your right breast before his head lifted. “Is there something my little toy wants?” he interrupted. With a tight throat, you simply nodded, hoping you could find it in you to answer him with words this time, but it didn’t take long for you to find out that those words wouldn’t matter either way. He lowered his head again and bit on your nipple, making you cry out into the room.

“Remember what I said earlier? Disrespectful playthings like you don’t get what they want either way,” Haechan said, sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you up. “Learn how to act right next time and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

“Yes…” you moaned.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir…”

Haechan hummed in response and turned around, pinning you against the wall next to the door. “Now it’s my turn to play with my little toy,” he muttered. It didn’t take much time at all for you to feel it—the feeling of Haechan stretching you out with his size alone, making you wonder if you could even take someone as big as that. Your face froze with your mouth open, facing the ceiling in complete shock, your soul escaping your body more and more the deeper he got into you. Haechan himself let out a long, smooth moan as he pressed into you.

“God, I never knew you’d be this tight, Y/N,” he said, pulling out a little before thrusting himself back in roughly. “So, so good…” The two of you stayed still for a moment as he let you get used to his size. After a few moments, Haechan began again, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a slow pace at first.

“Sir,” you finally spoke, “can you speed up a little bit?”

“I will if you ask me nicely,” he responded, still moving slowly just to mess with you.

“Sir, please speed up,” you pleaded. Haechan leaned down and left a quick kiss on your neck before speeding up to a pace more hasty, more rough and harder to handle. Part of you regretted asking him to get faster, but most of you couldn’t even focus on that. You were enjoying the sensation of his cock hitting your sweet spot full force each time he slammed into you, your back pressing against the wall as he fucked you.

“Look at my pretty little doll, taking it like she should be,” Haechan teased, going harder and harder into you. At this point, you could barely handle what he was giving you, but every part of you wanted it. Needed it, even. You could even feel your orgasm coming toward you full speed, like a car on the highway at night. With how loud you were moaning, too, everything in you knew that he could tell as well.

“I’m so close,” you breathed, your arms tightening around his neck as your cunt tightened around him.

“Really? Is my doll already so close? How bad do you want it?” Haechan asked mockingly.

“So bad,” you replied, “really, really bad…”

“Yeah? Then beg for it.”

“Please, sir, please let me cum; I need this so badly…”

Haechan reached his hand down and began stroking at your clit. “Keep going, babe.”

“I’m so close, please let me cum, I’m begging! I-I’ve been doing good, please, I’ve been a good girl,” you continued pleading as a shock of what felt like lightning passed through you. If he didn’t decide now, you were going to release either way, and you didn’t want to disobey him all over again just to get another punishment.

“Hmm,” Haechan hummed decisively, almost jokingly. “You have been doing pretty well so far… I think you’ve earned it. You know what to do; cum for me, now.”

Immediately you released, his order cutting the tie for you. You were squeezing his cock as your juices leaked out, spreading all over him as he continued to thrust into you. It was amazing, but the overstimulation was starting to hit you not too long after.

“S-Sir, I can’t take this anymore,” you cried, legs weakening around his waist as he continued.

“Yes you can, doll,” Haechan responded, grunting lowly, “because good girls take what they’re given. And I’ve got something for you to take.”

Your nails were clawing into his skin at this point. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity increased. You could feel another orgasm coming for you, and your whole body was ready to implode all over again. Haechan pressed his face into your neck again, taking a deep breath in before moaning at full volume, picking up speed as he pounded into you.

Not too long after, Haechan’s teeth sunk into your collarbone again as he moaned, “now take everything Daddy gives you.” Instantly, you were filled with more and more of his cum as he came, pushing you harder against the wall and leaning up instead to kiss you on your lips instead. The two of you made out even after he finished, even after both of you noticed that his release was starting to drip out of you, and even after you noticed you had also came while he was getting off. After a while, the two of you finally pulled away from each other, Haechan still carrying you but just not against the wall anymore.

Soon after, the high started fading away, replacing itself with a different level or nervousness. The reality that you just slept with your crush-slash-enemy hit you like a full-force train. At some point, you decided that since you already did all of this, you might as well just let him know anyway. “I just wanted to say, Haechan,” you began nervously, “that I do actually like you… I just didn’t really have a way to let you know, I guess…”

The nervousness began peaking when all Haechan did was watch you in silence while blinking. Then, out of nowhere, another gentle laugh escaped him. “You think I didn’t know that, Y/N? What did you think I bothered you so damn much for?”

“You what?” you gasped. “You fucking knew that already and didn’t ask me out or something like that instead?” He shrugged.

“Just wanted to play with my toy first. You should already know that you’re mine. I’m just glad everyone else gets to know now, too,” he said.

You sighed. “You’re so freaking annoying.” Haechan leaned in right by your face again.

“Doesn’t matter; either way you’re mine. Aren’t you, doll?”

#haechan #nct dream smut #haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct 127 haechan #nct 127 haechan smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream #nct dream haechan #nct dream haechan smut #nct

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a-small-safe-place · 4 months

Text

New Addition

Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader

You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.

“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.

“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”

Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.

“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.

The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”

“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”

“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.

Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.

Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.

"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."

"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.

"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.

"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.

"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.

As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.

Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.

#yandere platonic #platonic yandere #platonic #yandere family #yandere will graham #yandere hannibal lecter #hannibal x will #platonic will graham #platonic hannibal lecter #child!reader #gender neutral reader #fem!reader #male!reader #yandere will graham and hannibal lecter #father and child #yandere dad #yandere parents #soft yandere

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mintmatcha · 3 months

Text

tw: implied abuse, no curses au

"Can I ask a question?" Yuuji digs his heel into the wood chips as he swings, digging a growing trench behind him. "You don't have to answer."

Ash falls from the end of Choso's cigarette. He leans against the anchor of the swing set, cheek against cold metal, and sighs. Twilight has passed and the streetlights have turned on, giving the playground a hazy, barely lit glow. Yuuji's guardian will start calling soon, but Choso decides the extra time together is worth the future ire.

"I already told you that I'm not giving you a tattoo."

"Aw, damn-" Yuuji clicks his tongue against his teeth. Ever since they met, he's been dying for a tattoo of his own, throwing out wild new ideas almost every day. One day, when he's eighteen and likes an idea for more than a month, Choso will bring him to his studio and comply.

But, not yet.

"That wasn't my question though," Yuuji says.

"Then go for it."

The younger boy takes a deep breath, then lets it out even slower, pulling the tension longer and longer until it snaps.

"Why weren't you... around? Like, when I was a kid and stuff."

Choso takes his own breath.

"Your mom-- our mom." The taste of that sits bitter on his tongue. He never called her mom, even back then. "She was different for me."

And for our other brothers, he adds silently. Yuuji doesn't need to carry that weight yet, the knowledge that he was the exception to it all.

"Why?" Yuuji pumps his legs a little softer, the back and forth motion of the swing slowly dying out.

"I dunno." Choso wishes he had the answer to that. "She was sixteen, did bad things. Don't worry about it."

Finding out about Yuuji wasn't a shock, somehow. Years after Ken had surrendered her children to the state, Choso had received noticed that she had died. The news felt overdue. No tears were shed, no love lost; the group chat of siblings had all agreed not to go to any service, but the day of, Choso had changed his mind.

He had put on his nicest outfit -some thrift store pants that didn't fit and a shirt he stole from foster dad three- and went expecting to be the only one there, the only one willing to say goodbye.

Choso hadn't known about her new family. They hadn't known about him either. It was typical of Ken to leave a mess in her wake.

Turns out, through a series of lucky breaks, the woman had clawed her way out of poverty and into the arms of a rich, but nice man. Her life was easy and sweet, filled with luxuries and love, including a son ten years younger than her eldest.

No one knows why Yuuji was different than the others, why she decided to be good to him and no one else. Mental illness is strange like that, picking and choosing how it pleases.

Yuuji huffs, gripping the metal chains tighter. "But-"

"Yuuji." Choso drops his cigarette and crushes it under his boot. Then, he thinks about the child that will play there tomorrow, shoveling wood chips into their mouths like idiots, and decides to pick it up. He jams it into his pocket. "You have good memories of her. Don't ruin that."

He used to resent how much Yuuji loved her. He was eight when she died, the same age Choso was when he first had to dial 911 for her. That anger had long faded, replaced with a strange amount of pity.

"But I want to know. What she did and stuff." Yuuji's voice jumps high with emotion. "I'm basically an adult, I can handle it."

"You're sixteen."

"Well, mom was doing this stuff at sixteen, so-" Yuuji is seething suddenly, brow furrowed and teeth grit.

"So?"

"So, she was old enough to be doing bad things and I'm not old enough to know about it?" He stands and the swing clatters behind him. He's stocky, yet tall, bunched with muscles that he's built from baseball. On one side of his cheek, there's a bit of chocolate stuck there, a remnant from the ice cream Choso bought him. Below it, there's a rosy hickey on his neck, a remnant of the boyfriend he hasn't told Nanami about yet. He thinks they're having sex, maybe, but doesn't know how to broach the topic without scaring his brother into never talking about it again.

"And you had tattoos at my age, by the way!"

Choso lets him stew in it, huffing and puffing. The blown out edges of first tattoo peek from under his sleeve, the image barely legible now. An older woman gave it to him at fifteen, in the basement of her house. It became so insanely infected that he ended up in the ER a couple days later.

"I'm not a kid. I can handle it." Yuuji states, calm and clear. "I'm not a kid."

A car passes, it's headlights stretching and pulling the shadows across the park. In the changes, Choso can see his mother in his brother, those soft eyes and thin lips and the same slightly crooked nose that Choso has himself. He thinks, maybe, if time was kinder and his father was better, they'd look more alike each other, but then the moment is gone and they no longer even look like siblings.

"Okay."

Yuuji untenses a bit. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Like, okay, this conversation is done, or okay, I'll tell you?"

"I'll tell you," Choso says, jamming his hands in his pocket. The cigarette butt is there, mushed and still warm against his knuckles. "But not tonight."

"What?!"

"Next time, I promise."

Choso doesn't understand why Yuuji insists on rushing away from innocence, but he knows that he can't stop him. Yuuji will find out about the abuse, the neglect, the other brothers, and the other horrors in some way or another and then things will never be the same.

"Stay a kid just a little longer." Choso resists the urge to ruffle his hair. "For me?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuji sighs. "One more day."

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matts-k1tten · 1 month

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

summary: Matt and y/n were best friends in high school, after graduation they parted ways and forgot about each other and their feelings for years. But what happens when they finally see each other again?

warnings: swearing, heavy smutttt (like yall voted on), fluff, don’t like it, don’t read it.

*not proofread*

————————

ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈᵃʸ

Today’s the day, after this day I’m free from school.

I really won’t miss anyone or anything here. I was always what everyone considered me as, a nerd. Since I always got along with the teachers and always had straight A’s.

But they all agreed on one thing about me, that I was gorgeous. But no one ever went for me because they all thought I was weird.

Not Matt, he loved my weirdness. In fact, he was just like me. He was smart and funny and we got along well. I always had feelings for him. His brothers Nick and Chris were amazing too.

But Matt and I always had a different relationship.

He wasn’t the best looking, but that doesn’t matter because I always go for personality.

So here we are now, graduating school.

“I’m so proud of you Matt, of us. We did it Matt! We survived high school!” I shout as I jump on him.

Matt laughs as he hugs me back. Matt squeezes me with all his strength.

As both of our grips soften I get sad thinking of the downsides of not seeing him everyday anymore. He was the light of my day.

“Matt?” I whisper in his ear in a broken voice.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

I pull back and look up at him. “Promise you’ll stay in touch?”

He smiles.

“Promise y/n, I’m not going anywhere.” He finishes and hesitates for a moment before he leans in and kisses me.

The kiss was so passionate and sweet I melted in his arms.

I felt like I was in a dream.

I paused for a moment before I kissed him back with all the love I have for him. Kissing him made everything around us disappear it truely felt like it was only me and Matt in the room.

His arms sneak around my waist as mine go around his neck. I feel Matt smile into the kiss.

He pulls me impossibly closer as our lips mold together.

I pull back and smile up at him, he smiles back.

“y/n we have to go celebrate! C’mon let’s go!” My mother shouts from behind me. I look back before dropping my hands from matt’s face slowly.

“I have to go Matt, I’ll call you later. We can hang out tomorrow!” I say as I hold his face and kiss his cheek.

He nods and we both let go.

If only he knew how much I really loved him with all my heart and soul.

³ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ

I lay on my bed with my roommate also best friend next to me. After graduation, I moved in with Amelia one of my close friends in high school.

We moved to LA right after graduation to get a fresh start and pursue out youtube career.

We got to busy starting our own youtube channel that we could barely manage to visit home.

We’ve gained so much subscribers and got so much love that I’m so thankful for.

I’m scrolling through TikTok when something pops up.

A video of these boys named the “Sturniolo Triplets”.

Sounded familiar, I just can’t remember.

I go to the comments and they’re filled with comments on comments about how funny they are.

I ask Amelia if she knows.

“Hey do you know who these ‘Sturniolo Triplets’ guys are?”

She looks at my screen and shakes her head. “Never heard of them before.”

I kiss my teeth and search them up on youtube. Their channel immediately pops up with their most popular videos.

I click on one and examine them.

This is a waste of my time.

I click out and put on some music. “C’mon Amelia, we have to get ready for this influencer party!” I shout as a song starts playing. She groans before she sits up with a light tug on her arm.

“Fine! Just let me pick out a dress!” Amelia says with an attitude.

I don’t reply feeding into her attitude. Amelia always has an attitude and I learned how to deal with it because if I’m gonna live with her I have to get used to her.

Amelia stomps off to her room to pick out a dress as I start to dig in my closet.

I found this perfect black silky short dress that really compliments my figure. “Perfect!” I shout to myself.

“Y/n! Should I wear a silky royal blue dress or a silky white dress!” Amelia shouts from down the hall.

“I’m wearing a silky black dress you should wear the whole one to match with me pair it with black heels, I’ll wear white heels!” I yell back.

“That’s a great idea!” Amelia says excitedly and slams her door to change.

I change into my outfit and put on my white heels. I use this black pocket purse to hold my lipgloss, phone, and whatever I need.

I run into the bathroom to do my makeup and Amelia walks in right after me. I take one sink and Amelia takes the other.

Amelia pulls up to the huge venue to where the party is at and parks far from the entrance.

“Why’d you have to park so far? We’re gonna get drunk and forget where the car is!” I turn my body to her.

She unbuckles and looks at me with a blank face.

“Not us, you. I’m staying sober tonight I don’t wanna wake up with the worst hangover ever because we have to film tomorrow and I don’t want to have the worst headache while filming.” Amelia says sternly and hops out the car.

I groan and roll my eyes before quickly running up behind her. “Who do you think we’re gonna meet? Oh my god! What if we meet Vinnie Hacker!? Or Baylee Levine, Sam and Colby! Ohh! I hope Colby falls in love with me, he’s so sexy. And oh! Tara Yummy! Oh my god I love Tara Yummy she’s literally my wife! What if we meet Jake-“ Amelia cuts off my rant by stopping us mid walk.

“Shush! Yes! There is a chance we’d meet them but just wait till we get in!” Amelia says now annoyed with my random rant and storms off to the entrance. “Sheesh someone’s got an attitude.” I mumble under my breathe and walk a few inches behind her.

We make it to the entrance and get checked in and are immediately greeted bye loud music and the smell of alcohol mixed with cologne.

I drag Amelia to the bar and I order myself a vodka cranberry. “Are you seriously not gonna drink tonight?” I ask as the bartender slides my drink over to me and smiles.

I smile back and turn back to Amelia.

“Like I told you, we’re filming tomorrow! You can get drunk but I’m not!” Amelia snaps back and opens her phone. “Suit yourself.” I reply as I take a sip and look to the dance floor.

I look around and see many familiar faces of influencers whom I’ve seen around social media.

Someone catches my attention by walking towards Amelia and my direction only to figure out it’s Tara fucking Yummy.

“Hey! I’m such a huge fan of you guys! I just wanted to come over here and tell you guys how much I love and and also ask if I could get a picture. sorry if I’m fan girling!” Tara giggles a bit.

Tara yummy? A fan of, us? I looked stunned for a moment before I snap out of my daze and reply.

“Yes of course! It’s totally fine we love you so much I was actually talking about meeting you before this!” I laugh.

Tara laughs as well as she takes out her phone and snap a picture with us.

“Also before we came in she was talking about how you’re her wife.” Amelia says with a small grin on her face. I smile and shake my head covering my face out of embarrassment.

Tara just laughs at my reaction.

“It’s ok babes, you are my wife. But I also wanted to ask if we could collaborate sometime?” Tara smiles at me. My face lights up as I look at Amelia.

Amelia smiles and nods. “We’d love to collaborate with you!”

“Great! Just give me your numbers and I’ll next you whenever!” Tara replies with the cutest smile.

She hands us her phone and we put our numbers in. We hand it back and she yells a quick thank you and walks away.

I slowly turn to Amelia with a cheeky smile on my face still smiling from the interaction. “Tara yummy is a fan of us and wants to collab!” I scream and hold Amelia’s hands.

Amelia smiles and laughs.

“We should go dance!” I yell over the music. “Yes!” Amelia replies and drags me out. Amelia and I start jumping around and screaming with the music.

I stop for a moment to catch my breathe and meet a pair of frozen blue eyes.

Still looked so familiar, I just couldn’t remember.

He was staring right at me as I examined his features. Brunette fluffy hair, defined face shape, slight beard, tall, and wearing all black with keys hanging from his pants.

My jaw slightly drops. He was fine.

He seems to be checking me out pretty well by the way his eyes keep going up and down my body. He was just standing there with a solo cup in his hands and bites down on his lip as his eyes trail all around my body.

His eyes suddenly meet mine and chills surge through my body. His stare was so intense.

He looked at me through his hooded eyes. I couldn’t look away and neither did he. It was only then when Amelia taps me. “What are you looking at?” I break eye contact with the stranger and look back at Amelia. “Nothing, let’s just go sit down my feet hurt.” I smile slightly as she nods.

We go back to the bar stools and take a seat. We start talking and laughing and after a while I look around my eyes finding the boy again. But this time he’s on the dance floor with a smile and he’s holding a girl, a beautiful girl.

It kind of hurt, seeing him there with another girl.

I didn’t even know why it hurt.

Watching them sway to the music her hips gliding against his with his hands around her waist. I wore a slight frown and turn back to Amelia with my head down looking at my lap. She notices the change of mood.

“What happened?” Amelia questions. My head snaps up at her. “I-I don’t know, nothing.” I respond and look back at the dance floor. But the girl wasn’t there anymore, she was replaced with two other boys who look identical to the boy. My eyebrows furrow as I glare at them.

The same boy that was staring at me earlier turns his head in my direction and meets my gaze. I sit there frozen staring at him once again. The two other boys continue to dance as he just stands there moving his body a bit, staring at me.

“Are you sure nothings wrong? you keep zoning out.” Amelia says from beside me which makes me break the eye contact.

I nod. “Yeah.” I reply and turn my whole body back to the bar. There was a slight tap on my left shoulder.

I jump a bit and turn to who tapped me. I met the same pair of blue eyes as he stared down at me with a cold stare.

“Hey, I just came over here to say hello and say you look awfully familiar.” The guy speaks. I just smile and open my mouth to speak when he cutes me off.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself first. I’m Matt, Matthew Sturniolo.” He speaks again.

My eyes widen as my face lights up.

“Oh shit! Matt? Oh my god! I-it’s been so long! Sorry, it’s me, Y/n! From high school!” I shout and hop off my chair suddenly shrinking as I get off my chair.

His face turns as he smiles brightly at me. “Oh my god! Y/n! I didn’t even recognize you! How are you?!” He asks as he goes in for a hug. “I’ve been great! I started my own channel and it was successful! How about you!” I reply as I accept the hug and stay there for a moment then pull away.

He holds me by the waist as my arms are still around his neck. “Same! Me, Nick, and Chris also started a channel and got a lot of love!” He shouts over the music. I smile as my eyes trail around his face now that he was up close.

I could still see the same nerdy Matt from high school. Just different.

My eyes look to his lips, they were plump and pink. They looked so soft.

Since he was closer, I could really see his defined face shape. His cheekbones and jaw line.

I move my hand to touch his face my fingers following his cheekbones and down to his cheek to rest my palm there.

He just smiles and melts at my touch. He looks in my eyes as his pushes his face further in my hand.

“Let’s go somewhere more quiet and catch up, yeah?” Matt says breaking me from the trance he put me in. I nod as I turn to Amelia who was to distracted by her phone to notice Matt. I tell her I’ll be back and walk off with Matt. He brings me outside to the parking lot and to his car.

“I thought we could talk out here since it was a little muggy and hot in there.” He smiles down at me.

I smile up at him and nod. He leans against the car door as I do the same beside him. “You look….different.” I break the silence. He looks over at me. “In a good way or…” Matt asks.

“Yes! Of course! You look amazing, Matt!” I say as I turn my whole body towards him. He just laughs at my reaction. “Thanks, you look great too.” He smiles softly to which I return.

Matt inhales roughly before speaking.

“You know, in high school I had a huge crush on you. So much that I would write about you everyday.” Matt confessed. I chuckle and look down at our feet.

It was nice to be in his presence again.

“I had a huge crush on you too, you knew that, right?” I look back up at him. “I’m pretty sure I figured out by that kiss we shared at graduation.” He smiles. I feel my face flush as I look away. I totally forgot about that.

“Y’know, my feelings for you never changed after all these years. I always wanted you and only you, it broke my heart when you left without a word.” Matt says the energy changing from happy to sad. “I guess we’re confessing now, huh?” I look at him. He just stares at me blankly. I inhale.

“Well, my feelings for you always will forever remain the same even if we are a 6 hour plane ride away from each other or a 15 minute car ride. I’ll always choose you no matter what.” I can’t help but smile after my confession staring in his eyes.

Matt stares at me in awe before he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

I get that same feeling again, the one I had at graduation. I’m taken a back a moment before I lean to kiss him back wrapping my arms around his neck. He sneaks his arms around my waist and continues to kiss me.

We’re in the same position, 3 years later.

The longer we kiss, the more intimate it gets. Matt grips my ass and hips as he pulls my whole body against his. He was way taller than me which made it harder to kiss him.

I had to get on my toes and he had to bend down to kiss me. But it didn’t matter, all I wanted was to feel his lips on mine again.

Matt pins me against the car door and presses his whole body on mine assuring I can’t escape. Matt slides his tongue on my bottom lip asking for permission which I quickly granted.

Our tongues fight for dominance but Matt wins and his tongue explores my mouth.

I put one of my hands on his cheek as the other stays around his neck pulling him impossibly closer.

We both pull away for air and I look down at his lips which are red and plump from our previous actions. Matt yanks me off the car door and opens it then throws me inside. Matt wastes no time in crawling right on top of me and slams the door and smashing his lips back on mine. This time the kiss was more aggressive and needy.

I couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as his hands go everywhere around my body.

Matt pulls away to take off his shirt and goes right back in. His hands trail down to my thighs which are revealed because of my dress. Matt pulls away again and swiftly pulls my dress over my head leaving me in only panties and a bra. Matt examines my body for a moment.

“I always knew I chose you for a reason.” He says lowly and kisses me again as he plays with my breasts. Matt’s hands go under me as I arch my back to take off my bra. Matt unclasps my bra and tosses it to the front as his lips trail down my chest and to my nipple.

My hands are tangled in his hair as he nibbles and licks it repeatedly.

After a while, he switches to the other breast and gives it the same attention. His actions only make my noises grow louder.

Matt trails his lips down further to my stomach, lower abdomen, and to the band of my panties. He looks up at me for permission and I quickly nod to impatient to speak. He slowly pulls down my panties to tease me.

“M-matt, please.” I whine. “Be patient.” He growls. “Let me look at you.”

He then takes off my panties and throws it to where my bra landed leaving me completely revealed for him. Matt licks his lips his teeth showing as he did.

Matt blows cold air on me which makes me shudder and let out a quiet moan.

Matt starts kissing down my thighs getting closer and closer but switching to the other thigh every time he was face to face with it. “Matt!” I yell and groan frustrated by him.

Matt chuckles lowly which sends shivers down my spine. “So needy.” Is all he says as he buries his face in my pussy.

I moan loudly at the sudden impact as he works on my clit sucking aggressively. I whimper uncontrollably as Matt works on me.

Just then, Matt’s phone starts to ring.

Matt grabs it without detaching his tongue from me just looking up at his phone as he has it above me.

Matt hands his phone to me. “Y-you want me to answer?” I say as I look at the contact is to notice that it was Chris. “Mhmmph.” Matt hums against me which sends vibrations through my body.

I press answer and put it on speaker. “Matt where the fuck are you? you wondered off like 20 minutes ago and never came back. Nick and I are getting tired and wanna go home.” Chris says angrily.

“H-hey Chris-“ I say trying to make it sound like his brothers face wasn’t buried in between my legs. “Who is this? wait. y/n? I thought I recognized your voice! why do you have Matt’s phone?” I was about to respond when Matt flattens his tongue and moves his head side to side aggressively.

My back arches as my mouth falls open silent moans leaving it.

“Umm. hello?”

“ye-ah?”

“why do you have Matt’s phone?”

“mmph”

“hello?”

“Matt and I-I! came outside to talk and he went to use the bathroom r-really q-quick and left his phone-ah!” I cover my mouth and smack Matt’s head as he laughs against me.

“Are you okay? what happened?” Chris asks. “Nothing! I’m fine! I-just-uh- hit my finger.” I say in a hushed voice.

“o-kay?-“ Chris is cut off my Matt’s muffled laughter his mouth still attached to me. “Was that Matt? Put him on!” Chris shouts. Matt snatches the phone and hangs up.

Matt drops the phone on the floor and continues. “You taste amazing.” Matt says pulling away for a split second.

My hands go back to his hair as Matt sucks my bud and wraps his hands around my thighs. My eyes roll back as my back arches farther.

Matt inserts one finger, the move taking me by surprise which makes me let out a pornagraphic moan. He starts pumping in and out slowly as his mouth still worked on me.

He inserts another finger and goes faster. I’m a moaning mess as he curls his fingers expertly hitting my g-spot. My moans grow impossibly louder the more he hits that spot.

I feel a knot start to form in my stomach as Matt continues his motions in a faster paste. The knot grows in my lower abdomen and I start clenching around Matt’s fingers.

His fingers were long and slim which made it a perfect fit. I unintentionally start to slightly grind on his face as he moves faster.

He hits that spot again, again, again, again.

The knot grows stronger as Matt looks at me through hooded eyes. My hands stay tangled in his hair.

“I-I’m close.”

“Come on my face, give it to me.”

With his words, I feel myself start to release all over his face with a loud moan.

Matt helps me through my high but doesn’t stop there. He keeps on going even more stronger and aggressive. I couldn’t take it, it was too much.

I try to push him off but he grabs my hands and holds them in a ball. “I’ll stop when I want to, you taste to good.” Matt speaks lowly. I moan uncontrollably as Matt continues his actions.

“M-matt! please! s-stop! I’m sensitive!” I scream and squirm.

“Just a little longer.”

I practically scream with the loud moan I let out. That familiar knot builds in my stomach again. I grow louder as he continues to suck and shake his head. Without saying a word, I come on his face again.

Matt licks up all my liquids and comes up to my face wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands.

“Wasn’t to bad, huh?” Matt says as he kisses me making me tastes myself. I kiss him back as Matt unbuckles his pants and slides down his boxers. We both pull away as I look down at him.

My jaw falls slack. His tip is an angry red leaking with precum.

Matt laughs as he grabs the base and strokes himself a few times. “Tell me if you want me to stop, I will.” Matt says quietly and starts to push himself in stretching my walls.

I bite my lip to muffle my moans as my hands go around to Matt’s back my nails digging into his skin. I whimper once he’s completely in, he pauses to let me adjust.

“Y-you can move now.” I say.

As the words left my mouth, Matt starts to thrust at an ungodly paste making the whole car shake and creak. Little grunts leave Matt’s mouth as loud moans and whimpers leave mine. My nails dig deeper into Matt’s skin as Matt continues to pound me.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” Matt says in my ear. I just look in his eyes with my mouth open.

Just when I thought he couldn’t go faster, he started to move at an inhumane speed. Matt was fucking me so well I couldn’t think straight. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he moved.

“Look at me or I’ll stop.” Matt says.

My eyes snap back to his fighting not to squeeze them closed. Matt goes so deep that he hits my cervix which makes me go crazy.

I’m screaming so loud I’m pretty sure anyone around us could’ve heard us. “I love hearing your pretty little noises.” Matt speaks again. The knot starts to build up again, but this time more stronger and vivid, and satisfying.

I start to clench around Matt as he grips my breast with one of his hands watching them bounce with every movement.

“I can feel you clenching, c’mon. Come all over me baby.” Matt teases and smiles.

Matt reaches his hands down to rub my clit which only makes my nails dig deeper in his back leaving deep red scratches, some even bleeding.

I feel Matt’s dick start to twitch in me as I start to release. I feel myself squirting all over Matt and his lower stomach.

Matt follows soon after me burying his load deep inside me. Matt collapsed on me his head buried in the crook of my neck. We both breathe heavily as I hug Matt close. “I swear to god I can’t feel my legs.” I say in between breathes. Matt laughs at my statement and gets up to reach for his clothes and mine. It’s only then I see his back and what I did to him.

“Oh shit, Matt. I fucked up your back.” I say and breathe out a laugh. “Fucked it up? No baby, you made it a piece of artwork.” Matt says as he pulls up his pants and boxers and leans in to kiss my forehead. Matt reaches in the console for a napkin to wipe my legs and his stomach and our sweat.

He reaches over to grab my dress and bra stuffing my panties in his pocket.

“You alright?” Matt asks as he slides on his shirt. “Besides not being able to walk properly, yeah I’m fine.” I say and pull on my dress.

Matt laughs and pulls me close to kiss me.

“So what now?” I ask.

“Let me take you on a date.” Matt replies.

I giggle as Matt pulls me in again and kisses me passionately this time.

“When I first saw you, I always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.” Matt smiles softly.

I smile as well.

“I always felt the same, I guess it was love at first sight.” I chuckle. So does Matt.

The door suddenly opens and we’re met with Nick’s angry and tired face. “What the fuck! There you are! Y/n? What? I’m so confused?!” Nick screams. Chris comes up behind him and sees us.

Chris doesn’t even seemed shocked. “So this is why you were acting weird on the phone?” Chris says blankly as Matt and I burst into laughter.

“I’ll let you to settle this, c’mon Chris.” Nick tugs Chris and they walk away.

“Y’ know I really love you, a lot, right?” Matt says.

I nod. “Yeah, but I love you more.” I smile. Matt smiles and presses his lips to mine. I guess it really was love at first sight.

——————————

a/n: hey guys!!!!!! this is long asf ik. but i hope u guys like it tell me what you think!

428 notes · View notes

moonlinos · 2 months

Text

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back.

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday.

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

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eddiernunson · 9 months

Text

Take My Anger | mean!Eddie x Reader | 18+

Summary: Eddie is pissed after a session from Hellfire and you offer for him to take his anger out on you.

Warnings: This is...intense. Mouth fucking, lots degradation, use of stop/go, slight dom!eddie, light after care, reader is in established relationship with Eddie. Also depicts him being a dick about Dustin but never to his face.

Based on a conversation I had with the lovely @oddussy420 thank you for the inspo <3

Words: 2.4k

Disclaimer: I wrote this high as shit. That's all.

Eddie walked out of his Hellfire session as his friends celebrate feeling frustrated. Dustin kept finding out his plots and purposefully picking against him…somehow. As the beginning of the semester aired, Eddie realized quickly he would have to up his game when Dustin picked up on his usual storytelling methods. Either Gareth, Josh, and Peter weren’t that observational or just didn’t care enough to pay attention, but Dustin picked up on his three methods in a mere four weeks.

Eventually Dustin started challenging him by picking against the usual route. It made Eddie need to learn how to think on his feet and dig through his own list of plots he’d came up with mentally. It certainly made Eddie prepared at almost every twist, eventually he met Dustin’s challenges with a half-smirk. Eddie’s rise in confidence had to do with several factors, but for time and storytelling reasons we’ll get into two of them (for now).

One, Eddie had practice with Dustin being a shithead. Loads and loads of it, the point where he had come to welcome Dustin’s alternative routes and sometimes rely on them.

Two, Eddie spent weeks figuring out a quest where Dustin would think he’s leading again but Eddie had everything planned out to work out so that no matter what they’d get to the big twist he had planned. He started to feel confident on his plan at this point.

Eddie spent damn near hours in that library researching and writing in his spiral notebook that was so tattered from the years of ripped out pages. He had given Dustin a ride home one late night after Hellfire, and as Dustin left, he caught a glimpse of the thing that Eddie had, quite frankly, been so obvious he didn’t want Dustin to see. If he hadn’t touched it, Dustin would never have known. Eddie kept trying to not so secretly keep it hidden, which was his dead giveaway.

Somehow, Dustin needed to get to that notebook. There’s only a handful of things that Eddie would be protective as he was. You, his guitar, his van, and his plans for DnD sessions. Luckily Josh, who doesn’t know a thing about Eddie and Dustin’s game of cat and mouse, was the one to provide the combination. During Eddie’s free period where he’s usually found making out with you in the forest or goofing off in the drama room, Dustin went into his locker and picked up the graffitied notebook.

It had every answer, and Dustin had to say he was impressed. He would have to be sneaky to throw him off to a different route this time. In a manner of ten minutes of a quick study Dustin knew the plan, and it happened to be one Eddie was excited and hyping up for the group for that same Friday. Dustin came up with his own counter-move for everything, knowing Eddie would want to lead to the big twist and Dustin would move away.

When the day came, Dustin had managed to throw off the story and quest completely, and Eddie saw red. Of course, he knew Dustin was only playing the cat and mouse game, but it felt like his weeks of work and his excitement was just something to laugh at than indulge in for Dustin. As the game ended, Dustin offered his hand to shake for no hard feelings. You walk into the drama room, bounce down the stairs, your ponytail swinging down each step as you say goodbye to the members already leaving.

Oh, the last reason he became more confident? You finally asked him out and you and him had gotten together.

You watch as Eddie meets the handshake nodding to Dustin to let him know they were okay. However, one look at Eddie told you he was pissed. He has all the tell-tale signs. The locked jaw, hardened eyes, the overly intimidating posture. He smiles as his friends leave but the smile is nowhere near his eyes. You have no idea how they didn’t see his anger.

Maybe Eddie’s just good at knowing what he was angry at.

The last person lets the door slam behind them, and it’s loud in the silence that follows. “Hey, baby.” You greet him, walking up to stand face to face with him.

Eddie gulps, looking down at the table blankly as his arm wraps around your back. “Hey,” he answers, his voice gruff and short.

You hesitate in your question, gently caressing his tense back. “How…how was Hellfire?”

Eddie takes a large inhale in, as if calming himself. “That shithead Henderson…” He does it again, closing his eyes. “That shithead Henderson found my notebook and memorized everything.” He stops talking, finding himself getting a bit worked up. “I spent weeks on that campaign just for him to…” he sighs, leaning onto the table, “just for him to destroy it in an hour.”

“Oh, baby that sucks.” You emphasize with him.

“Yeah, no shit it sucks!” Eddie laughs, walking from you towards the head of the table where his throne sits.

Okay, now he’s being mean with you, too.

He sits down on the throne, his one leg hanging over an arm rest. You checked the time, knowing this session ran late and wanting to catch that movie that he asked you to. If he’s pissed to the point of being just plain mean it would take some time calming to get him down to regular mad.

Fuck. He’s never this way after an orgasm, it would roll right off his shoulder. An idea.

You observe where Eddie is sat in his throne, deciding you could fit in the space between the table and his legs. Eddie doesn’t even notice you crawling under the table on your bare knees until you reach his line of sight on the floor right in front of him.

“Whoa, what’re you doing down there?”

“You couldn’t see me anywhere else.” You shrug. You sit back on your knees, looking up at him with that stare you knew got to him. Wide eyes, big smile. He loves it when you’re eager. “Is there anything I could do to help you feel better?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just pissed.”

“Anything?” You ask crawling up between his legs. “You don’t need help taking your frustrations out…any other way?” Your hands move up and down his legs, watching as he immediately leans back and sighs. His brown eyes remain fixated on yours. Offering a blowjob is one thing, but offering this? Holy fuck, has he won the lottery.

“What’re you offering?” Eddie asks, sounding uninterested.

You don’t buy it for a second. “Use my mouth. Fuck it, then you’ll feel much better when I swallow.”

Eddie’s chest rapidly inflates in response, his eyes welcoming that sprinkle of lust he usually has. “Then do it.” Your hands work fast, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as fast as possible. He chuckles darkly as he legs his pants fall to his knees, watching you eagerly eye his cock. “Get to it.”

You wrap your lips around the head, sucking lightly as a tease. It happens only for a second as a harsh hand lands on your neck and forces you down further on it. Perfect. You bob your head up and down, getting it nice and wet. As you continue, saliva naturally curates and you let it all drool on to him, spit and slobber covering your hand you had supporting you and your mouth. “Oh shit.” Eddie comments, watching you through half-mooned eyes.

Since you suggested him fucking your mouth it was all that was in your brain. You find his hand again, placing it around the base of your ponytail. Eddie immediately takes it into his fist and moves your head so harshly you’re surprised by the initial move. He kept up the movement, eventually muttering to himself. “Oh, take that cock. Oh shit, fucking whore, you take it.”

Just when you adjusted to him suddenly, he pushes himself down your throat, his treasure trail meeting your nose. How did his treasure trail smell so good? You clutch onto his jeans in front of you, tears forming as he stays in the back of his throat and doesn’t move. When it’s been a longer time than usual, Eddie can sense your curiosity. “I wanted to see how long you could take this, a cock at the back of your throat. What a good whore I have…” It was only a minute more when you hit Eddie’s thigh twice, air needed to be brought to you or you would’ve passed out. He places a hand beneath your chin, staring at you in awe as you catch your breath. Your face looked a disaster, your eye makeup a tad runny while your mouth was covered in your own spit. He loved it.

“Bend over.” He commands, and from the authority in his voice you don’t have a damn option. Your underwear is snatched off you, it’s not even down to your knees when Eddie slips into you without pacing himself. He moved right into bucking his hips against yours, the slap of them bouncing harsh enough to bruise. “Baby?” He asks, his voice soft for one moment.

“Go.” You let him know.

“Fucking whore, letting me fuck her just to get some anger out.” His hand goes around your torso, his hands holding you harshly enough to bruise. “Fuck, pussy is so good, though. Look at me.”

You turn your head to face him, and he leans in to kiss you and he does so gently, his tongue sliding against yours with grace. He lets go of you, letting you fall forward on your chest on the table as he continues to buck his hips into you. That was purposeful; you realize. He wanted to embarrass you.

“Let your tits out, slut.” He orders you, his voice showing indifference as the little whines escape your throat. You move your dress down your torso off your shoulders, exposing your nipples to the hard linoleum table. Eddie lifts you up to him, turning you around so one leg was on his shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You whimper as he starts to hit your g-spot at this angle.

Eddie stops his movements real quick “Hey. You’re the fuck toy. Shut up.” His crass choice treating you as such only turns you on more, your hand covering your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your head in arousal. Eddie notices, your pussy becoming wetter in response. “Slut loves when I put her in her place.”

You nod your head, hand still on your mouth as you tried not to make another sound.

“The perfect fuck doll, baby. Take this cock so fucking well, goddamn whore.”

His hand reaches the now loose ponytail and pulls. You smile up at him, the reaction sends more anger through him as he pulls tighter. You manage not to moan in response but the pleasure that it sent through you was indescribable.

“So fucking pissed, spent fucking…weeks…” He mutters, his hips still going at an unprecedented rate against you, his grip he now has on your forearm starting to feel sore. “Fucking steals…fuck you’re such a damn good whore.”

Heat remained explosive from your pussy, and though he’s barely put any attention on your pleasure you were almost there. “I-I’m close.” You mutter, and Eddie lets out a chuckle.

“Of course, you get off to being a fucktoy. It’s all you are.” He pounds into you a handful of times, feeling your heat flutter around him as you got closer. “Fuck, I’m close, too.” He puts the leg on his shoulder down and lies you flat on the table, the impact against your back harsh and cold. He places a hand around your neck, cutting your air off. “You’re not gonna cum until I tell you to. Understand?”

You nod, two hands gripping his strong forearm. He admires how his rings make a nice necklace around your throat.

His other hand meets your clit, starting to rub at it to purposely get you to that high as fast as possible. Eddie knew you so goddamn well he could time your orgasm to take however fast and slow he wanted. “Uh-uh,” Eddie tuts when he sees your entire body tense up in preparation for an orgasm. “Not yet.” He lets go of your folds, letting you feel the loss, then he places his hand there again.

He repeats it, twice. Each time you get more and more desperate to cum, and Eddie can feel your pussy shaking from it.

“AH!” He tuts again, yanking his fingers as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs tense right up.

“Please, Eddie. Please.” You beg him, the overstimulation at this point too much. “Lemme cum, I need it so bad. Please.”

“Oh thank you for using your manners, whore.” Eddie uses his hand one more time on you, strategically getting you off at a calmer rate and loving how your face looks as you finally cum around him.

Heat invaded you as you finally cum, your body going limp as Eddie continues to fuck you. He’s gone in seconds, the entire time he was torturing himself, as well. The afterglow kicks in, and Eddie slips himself out of you as his hand swipes your face lovingly. “Oh, baby. My sweet girl.” He stays laying down with you until he sees you come back down to earth, and you inhale and exhale deeply, attempting to catch your breath. “There she is. You did so fucking good, baby.”

You smile up at him, your heart expanding. “Yeah?”

“Fuck.” Eddie swears, a laugh escaping him. “We definitely missed the movie, but we can go look at the stars, again, if you want.”

“Out in the field by your place?” You ask hopefully, remembering one of your first dates where he spent most of the night eating you out.

He places his hands delicately on your cheek, kissing you with all the love in the world. “Of course, sweetheart.”

You sigh, your heart still racing.

He can feel your heart still pounding against his chest. “You okay to walk?”

“I’ll need a few more minutes, stay with me.”

He let you crawl into his arms until you recovered, making himself pissed for not having a source of water on hand. “Grab some food later?”

You nod in his chest, taking in the scent of the cologne on the shirt he didn’t take off. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Miles, thank you so much for that, sweetheart.”

You smile into his chest, proud of getting him to handle his anger in a way you’ve talked about. “Of course, baby.”

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

#mean!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #mean!eddie munson x you #dom!eddie munson

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sukunas-wife · 2 months

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hhey, I accidentally came across your channel and read everything that was there, it's too good. could you write a story about how Yuji grows up? how he starts fighting with opponents or something like that :D?

I suck at writing fighting I’m sorry 😭 I’m terrible honestly so I did it in a different way I apologize in advance 🥺🤍

Yuji growing up UNDER SUKUNA IS CRAZY because 1 Ryomen’s cursed presence is so strong that Yuji’s cursed energy happened to be tied up all cute and pretty with a little cursed energy ribbon made of Sukuna’s cursed energy.

The integration of the two led Yuji to be able to use Malevolent Shrine

🥹 Made his daddy proud the day the three of you were outside and someone tried to ambush your little family, Yuji’s eyes widened seeing his dad calmly bring his hands together “Domain Expansion, Malevolent Shrine.”

The world flashed before Yuji’s eyes with the sound of a bell and drip. It was after that moment when everything was clear little ⅘ year old Yuji pushed his hands together mimicking his father trying to be cool “Domain expansion! Malevolent Shrine!”

Neither you nor Sukuna expected it to work, until it did-

There was Sukuna protecting you from Yuji’s unstable barely registering domain. After everything was said and done. The two of you couldn’t help but look at each other. “Did… did he” Sukuna let you go, “Yuji..”

Yuji ran at his dad with the biggest smile, screaming “did you see that!? Did you!? Did you!?” When Sukuna picked him up, throwing him up into the air, “I did! We need to talk about your little domain.”

That’s where he started his training under his father because he knew no one else could train him as well as he could. It evolved to Yuji being able to use his own energy in fighting. It was the cutest thing seeing your son's little fist while he punched away at some poor little punching bag with his father there mocking him to get him angry to put more curse behind his hits.

“Aw, this sack of sand too much for you brat? Move- I’ll show you how to really put some curse behind it.”

Yuji watched how his dad pinned the punching sack to post and took a fighting stance, in his eyes he could see the red cursed energy glowing skeins his fathers fists and when he struck it was over. The post and sack were nothing, “I WANNA DO THAT!”

It was a beautiful and cursed sight, Ryomen Yuji, (the name changes based on how my brain works I’m sorry 🥹) , he had softer features, but he had developed similar markings to his father. The only thing keeping him from being his father was the vast size difference. He had even taken to using a robe similar to his dads older style.

Ryomen Yuji wasn’t a tyrant, but if he turned out, he very much could be just a cruel man as his father.

Especially when Jujutsu Sorcerer started to trail after him thinking if they could kill the son the father would bend.

They laid corrected in their own pools of blood.

His first solo fight was when he had turned 15 and he asked if he could go to the town to gay a few things of his own. You were weary feeling something was bound to happen, Sukuna pulled you into his side assuring you there is no doubt in his mind Yuji would be able to take care of himself, he would know, he trained him for the last eleven years.

So you let him leave, he was surrounded not too soon before reaching the village, “IT'S RYOMEN SUKUNA!”

His eyes were quick to move around the group “FOOL THAT'S NOT RYOMEN SUKUNA THAT'S-… even better, Ryomen Sukuna may be a monster but even then this boy looks well enough to know someone has to give a damn about him, we need to restrict him.”

There was Yuji imbuing his cursed energy into his fists, it was a scene to watch how he could punch through a man's chest like silk tofu. How easily he could take a man’s head in his hand digging his fingers into their back around their spine to separate them entirely.

He was ágile, being attacked from both sides by men with cursed tools. Blades on chains, swinging in opposing directions grazing his chest and back as he turned to doing his best to avoid them, he took one chain wrapping it around his hand and turning his back to that man pulling the chain I’ve this shoulder sending the man flying into the air. He turned facing the second who was still running at him catching him by taking his face in his hand and crushing his face in , taking the 2nd man’s blade he spun the chain around before slinging the blade at the falling sorcerer piercing his skull leaving him to fall dead to the ground. He carried on with brute force until another wave of Sorcerer's came, he was huffing but he was thrilled, every year of training, every technique and day spent bleeding, fighting and pouring every ounce of energy and raw brute strength and cursed energy.

“Domain Expansion” it felt like time froze, “Malevolent Shrine.”

Yuji’s domain wasn’t as vast as his fathers, but was equally intimidating. There he stood on the pile of skulls in front of the shrine, hands pressed together, “You will see true power.”

It felt like the domain shook when he uttered the simple word “..cleave…” It was a sure hit taking out every living being in the area.

—- —- —- —-

But of course, like father, like son. When Sukuna was going to leave you to go tend to “business” Yuji begged to go, leaving you home with Anya and for a girls week which turned to a girls month.

During this month your boys had learned one thing in battle, they could merge their domains in a way no one else would ever be able to.

Sukuna had heard rumours of some prestigious clan that wanted his head, and if its head they wanted, he decided he’d personally deliver it personally into their city and into their pathetic little lives. Why wait for the fight to come to his home and put his little family at risk when he could go to the fight and strike while the steel is hot and brittle.

That was until Yuji started to beg to go, no matter how many times Sukuna would tell him no he would persist he go with his father. Finally after talking to you, and even when you didn’t want to let him go, Yuji begged and begged using his little puppy eyed beg you caved and said if either of them came back hurt or didn’t come back at all you would remarry and forget about both of them. It was a bluff but the jealousy was enough to make Sukuna squint at you before whacking Yuji on the back of his head lightly, “Let’s go brat, the sooner we get this done the sooner we come back home and your mother won’t roll in her grave.”

Still Sukuna pulled you into him by your waist and kissed you making Anya and Yuji exaggeratedly “eewww” before he left.

They warped quickly now that Sukuna was in a snappy mood, “pfft, remarry, that woman couldn’t find a man worth one of my- oh?”

It was as if the invasion was anticipated, Sukuna used a lower arm to push Yuji behind him, “Stand back brat, I said you could come, I never said you could fight.” It was an instant, every archer and swordsmen surrounding the two had either been cleaved or lit a light. ”Now we’re really going to have some fun.”

Yuji trailed after his father watching how he barreled through everything and everyone with no regard, his actions were quick and precise. He made their way straight to the centre of the shinden-zukuri with ease. Yuji was astounded, his father would always make minimal movement with maximum damage, but this was different, he was just showing off. They were surrounded and the room was suffocating with the large amounts or pressure from cursed energy flowing. He backed up to Sukuna, and they stood back to back, Yuji was ready to fight, Sukuna was amused and having the time of his life, he would win and there was no doubt in his mind. The two fought in a way that reminded Sukuna of the day you fought by his side. A side of you not even his children would ever know. They danced in circles, taking life after life until they were forced closer, as if they had the same unspoken idea both of them expanded their domain not letting the other know.

The world shook in the wake of the combined domain, the humans witnessing the ethereal domain would die without fail.

The shrines combined to make a full size Sanmon gate, strikingly similar to the former shrine. The only difference was that Sukuna stood there like the god Vishnu, Two hands holding his domain symbol just above Yuji’s height level, the other two holding his tools up and on display, Yuji was a step below him with hands in the matching domain form. The two shared a single brain cell in that moment, “Malevolent Temple.”

It had no barrier, it turned into an open space, the hits were guaranteed. In the end when every living thing in the vicinity was reduced to nothing and the domain closed, it came to show even the former shinden-zukuri has been reduced to dust on the ground.

What he would’ve stretched over days of fun they had completed in mere seconds. But now that his eyes had been opened to this new found power he was intrigued and needed to know more.

This led to Sukuna dragging Yuji around with him to test the limits of their new found glory for weeks until he finally allowed Yuji to return home. You weren’t frantic when they returned because Uraume had calmed your beating heart once a week with the messenger birds you had begged him to take along. But you were scared because Sukuna did not slip into bed as he usually would, instead he scooped you up, threw you over his shoulder and brought you outside with him, “Let’s go woman.” Was all you heard as you were shaken awake and met with the morning's cold air, “kuna, love, I’m so tired.”

You felt Sukuna land a smack on your rump, “Just five minutes and I’ll carry you back.” You did your best to look back at him and you caught him looking back at you with a smug smile, “fine.”

He sat you on the steps to your home, where you saw Yuji, he had that look of excitement, his eyes were gleaming the way they would as a child when he’d see his father use a new technique.

“Mom! Mom! You’re going to love this!” You smiled as Sukuna rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand letting it slip from his hold as he made his way back to Yuji.

Tag List: Permanent because this doesn’t feel very squishy 🥺

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