#I WON’T BE ABLE TO RELAX AND SLEEP NOW | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atrwriting · 5 months

Text

kisses and other sweet things — billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

ok… i couldn’t help myself lol

also side note i don’t remember what scene this gif was from but i feel like his turned on look and look of disgust/confusion is the same — like if i hadn’t watched the show i’d be like “did he just see a pretty girl walk in?? or did someone just threaten him?? both??? hopefully both???”

but like also if he looked at me like that…,,,… melting. on the spot.

as always, warnings: smuuuuut, dom!billy, brat!reader, i don’t know if you can call it non-con but just to be safe im going to put that, p in v sex, oral, spitting in mouth (yeah i went there sue me), tears, biting, cums inside of reader (they didn’t have condoms in his time but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them!!!!)

also don’t sue me i don’t know if they had running water (sinks, baths, etc) but also the real billy the kid didn’t look this fine so we’re making it up as we go and going with the flow

ENOUGH TALK — here’s kisses and other sweet things…

you had been working with a crew for some time now, and as you all struggled to keep a cash flow — you had to turn to other things.

like joining forces with another crew.

the idea of joining a crew wasn’t what unsettled you — what unsettled you was being the only woman with a gun with even more men.

it’s just for one job, y’all, they had said. just this one.

one job turned into two. then that turned into three. four, five, six — and suddenly you knew everyone’s back story, drink of choice, and their type when it came to women of the night.

your first crew never asked how you felt, but you also never told them. they were all — including you — in it for the money. at the end of the day, it was all about what you had in your pockets. there was no time for quelling the simple worries, like they’d call the ones in your head.

at the end of the day — you had been doing this a long time. you had taken care of yourself up until this point, and you would continue to do so. didn’t matter who you were working with — you’d get it done.

after a day of success, everyone wanted to blow off steam. you all had found a boarding house for the night where the alcohol ran deep and there was two or three pretty women for each cattle rustler in your large group. you stayed behind a bit to drink with them, but once they started eyeing the women — you knew it was time to go.

sleeping with any of the men you worked with was also a bad idea. you couldn’t afford them seeing you as anything less than someone quick with a draw — and you worried a night of meaningless sex would ruin that.

you would never take the chance.

“have your fun, boys,” you chuckled. “you deserve it.”

“won’t stay a little longer, sweetheart?” your leader asked as a girl licked at his neck.

“another time — bath’s calling my name.”

a few pleasantries were thrown over shoulders, and you returned them. you made your quick escape up the stairway and into the shared washroom between three or four bedrooms. you knew your party had rented those rooms for the evening, so you were very excited to be able to have the bath to yourself for a little bit longer than usual.

you filled the tub with scalding hot water. the steam from the water and the whisky in your stomach made you hazy, but you welcomed it. who knew when you’d have until you had this sort of luxury or privacy again — you weren’t going to waste the chance.

the bath was quite large — fit for two or three people. you stayed on one edge as you washed your dirty skin. you were about to relax against the back when the doorknob began to turn.

you immediately snatched your gun and pointed it at the door.

“shit — sorry.”

it was the bonney kid.

he was holding a towel in his hand and was naked from the waist up. a scared look on his face was present as he tried to avert his eyes.

you put down the gun and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his next move.

“just came to wash up,” he spoke.

you knew he couldn’t see anything from where he stood, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to see below the water’s surface with the bubbles. you could tell him to fuck off — but being mean to some of these assholes sometimes proved to be worse than just swallowing your pride and being nice. you didn’t know billy very well — and you weren’t about to find out while you were naked if he was an asshole or not.

“i’m going to be a bit,” you spoke. “i don’t mind if you come in.”

he looked at you uneasily before nodded curtly, lips parting. you closed your eyes and leaned back against the tub, letting your eyes drift closed. you heard the water running and the sound of soap being scrubbed onto skin, and felt better. the next sound you heard was a razor being pulled out and your eye drifted open.

he was shaving.

he kept his gaze on himself in the mirror as he spoke. “surprised the kid can shave?”

you smiled. “never thought you were a kid from how you were with a gun.”

that made him smile. “never seen a women like you with a gun before.”

you hummed in response, not exactly sure how to respond.

“come up here to escape?”

that made you laugh. you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. his eyes were trained on his skin as he let the blade slide down his neck and pull up loose hairs. your mind was hazy with drink and heat, which made you forget to respond.

“some people would say it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

you laughed at that — he had you there.

“and some people would say it’s rude to intrude on a woman’s bath,” you countered.

he smiled, but kept his eyes off you. you’d like to think it was out of respect. “…and would you?”

“not with you,” you offered. “you’re the only one who hasn’t tried to make a pass at me.”

“not hard to believe,” he spoke. “downstairs they’ve got a running bet to see who will be the first with you.”

you scoffed. “in their dreams.”

billy didn’t respond. he was almost done with shaving. he was washing more of his upper arms in the sink, and you suddenly felt bad. you were only taking this long because you thought everyone would be preoccupied with the downstairs activities, and because you couldn’t exactly exit with him standing there — able to see you.

“i can leave if you want to wash,” you spoke.

“water will be cold,” he responded. “‘s fine — i’ll wait the hour.”

you weren’t sure why — but that made you feel bad.

“you could join me.”

you weren’t sure what brought that on, and you knew you’d probably regret it later. however, billy’s eyes drifted up the length of the mirror to the edge where you knew he could see the tub, to your eyes. you weren’t sure how you looked — but you knew your curls were piled on top of your head and you looked sleepy. relaxed, even. peaceful.

“i don’t think you mean that, sweetheart.”

you hummed. “you don’t have to. just thought i’d offer.”

he appeared to sigh, and that’s when you thought he would leave — but he didn’t.

instead, he locked the door.

“should’ve done that in the first place,” he spoke before coming towards the tub to unlace his pants.

you turned your head away from him and let out a small giggle, shielding your gaze from his naked form. “how would we have gotten so well acquainted then, mr. bonney?”

you heard him find the other side of the tub where he sat back against. you let your eye line find in front of you and your jaw almost dropped at the sight. billy appeared to struggle to get comfortable as he sank into the warmth of the tub. the water line came up to right under his chest, showing off all of his perfect and trim muscles. with billy’s arms stretched out around the edge of the tub… you got the perfect view of the stretched muscles of his biceps.

“do i need to remind you about staring?” he asked.

you weren’t sure if he was joking — but he was right. if you wanted respect, you had to give it, too.

but you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was.

“sorry,” you said with a coy smile, and let your head fall back against the tub again.

you could hear water slightly splashing from the other side of the tub. billy had extended his legs so they were brushing yours slightly, and you shivered at the thought.

“can you…” he began. “can you get my back?”

you lifted your head and smiled. i can do all that and more if you asked, you thought.

“sure,” you said with a simple smile.

billy turned around and handed you the soap. there were a few cuts and bruises littered on his back, and you tried to be as careful with them as possible. you started on his neck, working the soap and the sponge against his muscles.

he hummed in response. you could’ve died at the thought of the big, bad billy the kid keening into your touch because you were massaging his muscles just right.

“that feels good,” he spoke. “talented fingers i suppose.”

you laughed lightly at that. you kept the sponge on his shoulders, and then worked down towards the expansion of his shoulder blades. it was scary to see such a broad man before you as you were so bare, but also the look of him was so enticing. you drew rough circles on his skin and worked your way down to the middle of his back.

“that’s good,” he replied. “thank you, darlin’.”

you went to hand the sponge back to him, but he turned around in place instead. the tops of your breasts were showing and you knew he could see the wildness in your eyes.

“how’d a sweet thing like you end up with us?” he asked, eyes searching yours for the answer.

“maybe i’m just the only one who knows how to handle you boys,” you spoke, trying to be coy. “actually… one of them i grew up with. we’ve always worked together, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”

“and what would he say if he knew if you were in here with me?” he asked.

you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “wouldn’t be his business. he’s also got a pretty blonde in his lap tonight. change of pace from his usual red head.”

“and he missed a chance to get to see you like this?” he asked, tucking a curl behind your ear.

“is his loss your gain, mr. bonney?” you asked, a smile drifting onto your face.

that was bold. you knew it. you could feel it.

“i think you’d have to ask the pretty miss before me,” he responded, inching his face closer. “she’d be mighty sweet if she let me kiss her.”

“she’s pretty pissed you haven’t already.”

he stared at you for a few minutes with his plump and pink lips parted in such a way where you knew thoughts were running behind his pretty eyes. he dipped his forehead towards yours as the intensity of the situation mixed with the hot steam around you and the liquor inside both of you. he dipped his chin once, and caught your waiting lips with ease.

his lips were dry and cracked against yours, but you loved it. billy was the type of man that was hard and worked even harder, and every bit of him reflected that. his dark curls were twirling around his hairline, mixing with sweat and soapy water. you wanted to brush them back, hop in his lap, and kiss him until there was more water on the floor than in the tub.

but you couldn’t — not yet.

billy’s lips folded between yours as if he was just happy to be here — with you. the feeling was intoxicating as there was nothing like sharing intimacy with a sweet man in the comfort of hot water. you couldn’t help yourself in that moment — you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response.

“you can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

“the things i want to do to you, darlin’…” he spoke, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath at the same time. “shouldn’t be wasted in a tub. let me take you back to your room.”

you both left the bathtub and tried your best to dry off as quickly as possible. it was almost hard to believe you were giggling with billy like innocents as you raced back to your room — hoping not to run into any more cowboys.

you immediately pushed him to sit down on the edge of the bed before you climbed into his lap. his thighs were strong and thick — the perfect foundation for a thing like you to hold yourself up enough to grab his cock in your hands, and swallow his moans through another kiss.

“tried not to stare in the bathtub, billy… but can you blame me?” you asked, breathless.

“noticed you starin’,” he grunted, running his calloused hands all over your body. “couldn’t help but stare back. needed to see where the trigger on you was.”

you squealed in delight at his dirty mouth before he threw you off his lap and rolled you over. he immediately started kissing down your body.

“i want you inside me, billy,” you whined. “not that.”

he worked his way back up to you before he caught you in another chaste kiss. against your lips, he spoke, “i’m a gentleman, sweetheart, first and foremost.”

“and what if a dirty little thing like me didn’t want a gentleman?”

he caught your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb and extended your neck ever so slightly. he looked down his nose at your pretty, flushed face. you smiled up at him as he scanned your face. “then i’d tell you — if i’ve got you all to myself, i’m going to do anything i want with that pretty little pussy. planned on tastin’ you, sweetheart — you got a problem with that?”

a wide grin spread across your face as your cheeks became rosier. “can’t say i can argue with you, then, cowboy.”

he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, your cheek, one on the base of your neck — and then bit down hard on the skin of your shoulder. immediately, your hands came up to lay across his biceps before he began to suck on the spot, sending shock waves throughout your body. he withdrew from you and was in between your thighs in an instant.

he spread your legs and held them down in place. his tongue was strong and thick as it explored the places between your folds. you hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could get a better look at the angel before you.

you watched as his eyes close as his tongue drew sloppy, wet circles around your clit. your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him bring a hand up to his mouth, lubricate his fingers, and prod at your entrance. billy let out a throaty groan as his two fingers slipped in with ease, exploring for that one special spot.

he watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers, hoping to trap them inside of you. you were almost vibrating at how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you and his drier thumb deliver the most delicious bouts of friction and pressure to your clit.

“yes —“ you gasped, gazing at his fingers.

his eyes immediately flicked up to yours. “still got a problem with this, doll?”

you folded your lips into each other as you shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. you were biting back the moan as he curled your fingers inside of you.

“no, that’s not how this works,” he stated. “if i’m making you feel that good, i should get to hear those pretty moans, don’t you think?”

a deep crease was forming in your brow with the perfect combination of friction, lubrication, pressure, and rhythm you had ever felt. you wanted to respond to him, of course, but how could you?

“i gotta work for it, that it?” he grunted. “oh, sweet thing…”

he shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. you couldn’t help it. you fisted the sheets on either side of you and threw your head back in the air. his thumb was working long, drawn out circles on your sensitive clit as your hips bucked up to meet his movements.

“that’s what you needed, baby?” he asked. “break so easily. i’d fit another, but this pussy is so sweet and tight — can’t fit.”

you were practically whining at his words. he would switch between his tongue and thumb every few seconds to show you the type of variety that had your toes curling. his groans against your pussy were the added vibration that kept your hips moving to meet his face.

“tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he grunted, his eyes closed. “can’t wait to stuff my cock in there.”

“don’t be mean to me, billy,” you gasped. “i want to feel your cock so bad, please…”

“no, baby,” he refused. “not until i make you feel good. you want my cock? yeah, well — you know what i want.”

you whined in frustration at his words — his words, the addition of what was making the heat and pressure build, and build, and build inside you until you were a sobbing mess on the bed.

“that’s it, sweetheart — give in,” he gasped. “i wanna know how good i’m making you feel.”

his voice was so husky it was taking over all of your senses. you hung onto every word as he led you closer and closer to what was your tipping point. he was stretching you so taut — like a string, ready to snap. when he suddenly pulled his hand away, you barely noticed it — until he replaced it with his cock.

you gasped at what came next.

first it was your legs — they immediately began to shake uncontrollably. the immense pressure started at your curled toes, your stretched feet, and worked its way up all the way to your shaking calves and thighs. the warmth coaxed your hips into a soft roll as you rode out your orgasm — blinded by the ecstasy of it all.

you immediately grabbed onto billy for dear life as all of your senses fucking swam. it was wave, after wave, after wave that hit you, arched your back towards the ceiling, and left you fucking breathless. your mouth fell open instantly, parted as whines and soft moans left and filled the open air of your bedroom.

and what did billy do? he grabbed you by the chin, still rutting his hips against yours, and spit in your fucking mouth.

“swallow,” he ordered, eyes boring down into yours.

you gasped as you understood his command, and like the good girl you were — you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he whispered from above you, stroking your chin.

you sucked in a sharp breath of air as you tried to regain your senses. you hoisted yourself back into your elbows, trying to focus — but it was just so hard. your pussy was so, so sensitive and it was like billy’s cock knew exactly out how to drag out your orgasm. you glanced up at billy, and realized your vision was blurry. shattered, fucked out beyond belief — you realized there were tears, literal tears in your eyes.

“no breaks for you, sweetheart,” he spoke, leaning over and holding your hips down. “need to make sure this pussy knows who she belongs to.”

your body refused to stop shaking — but it gave into every touch, caress, pull, and push from billy. you were his to use and you fucking relished in the feeling.

through your dark, thick, damp lashes, you glanced up at him. immediately, his bright, wild eyes connected with yours. there was no stopping the animal before you — not until he got his fix. the pure and pretty girl who always surprised the group with her skill was laying beneath him like a fucked out doll and he couldn’t get enough.

“please, billy,” you whined, biting down on your lip. “use my pussy just like that…”

“my fucking pussy,” he grunted.

“all yours, baby,” you gasped, laying victim to the curling warmth inside your womb once again. it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, and only billy could fix it. the idea of a second orgasm taunted you — teased you, until it was the only thing you could think about. you were close… so close… “billy, fuck — you’re going to make me — you’re gonna —“

“that’s it, baby, yeah —“ his thrusts were getting sloppier now as a light sheen of sweat lay across his forehead. the veins in his biceps and neck were protruding and his eyes were trained on your face. “bein’ so good f’me.”

“billy —“ you cried, tears coming to your eyes again. you reached for him, and brought him down to you. he held you by the back of the head and held your jaw in place with his thumb. through gritted teeth and wet eyes, you sobbed, “driving me fucking crazy.”

“yeah, yeah?” he taunted. “good. boutta make a mess of this fuckin’ pussy.”

with one last thrust, you curled into billy’s neck and cried. actually cried. he held you close to him as he continued to thrust inside of you — pressing fat, wet kisses to the side of your face. you were shaking in his hold, trying so desperately to hold onto reality — but it was slipping. it was slipping farther and farther away with every sweet word that billy ghosted over your ear.

“say you’re mine,” he ordered, with desperation in your voice. “say you’re mine, and i’ll cum.”

“i’m yours, billy,” you sobbed. “i’m yours. only yours.”

an animalistic groan left billy’s mouth as he tugged on your hair. he pulled your neck back and taut, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and biting down on your shoulder. his body pulsed one, two, three times as his orgasm overtook him and you. you were a weeping, crying mess and took everything that billy gave you.

he rut his cock into you a few more times as you both came down for your highs. billy was so commanding in bed — but after? nothing compared to how he was after. he pulled you into his lap, cock still inside you, and began peppering kisses all over your face. sweet nothings were whispered into your ear, but all you could do was whimper quietly in response. he laughed slightly in your ear, his breath ticking your sensitive skin, and dug his nose into your hairline.

“never getting rid of me now, sweet thing.”

- - -

would love to hear your thoughts :)

-L

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid #william bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william bonney #kid antrim #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

3K notes · View notes

gangplanksorenji · 3 months

Text

Kinknuary Day 15: Blindfold/Sensory Deprivation

Pairing: aespa Karina x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,840

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

--------------------------------------

“Alone today, huh?”

A visible shock was seen on Karina’s face as you startled her immediately and caught her off-guard, almost spat out her sweet concoction that she mostly treasured—well, for the time being.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Karina’s bewildered face tells exactly how she’s in utter shock seeing your face at such random times, but nonetheless, you see those orbs of hers lit up once she sees you.

“Well, can I just say I just want to come here and then by a great chance, I saw you here.” You cock an eyebrow at her and in response, she scoffs as she’s not falling for your lies here, again and maybe never again.

“Come on—” Karina pulls you by your wrists, closer to her before whispering to you, “—you came to see me here, don’t you? Plus—” Karina lets go of her tight onto your wrists as she relaxes herself and puts on a hubristic demeanor. “—you don’t really go to bars like this. Don’t make me a liar—I know you.”

Well, that’s like one of the two reasons why you chose to be even at this bar even though you’re always hectic to come and most preferably, wanting to stay home just to binge-watch some movies or play all the same four games you love playing—you came to see her, intentionally with a single goal in mind wanting to be fulfilled or you won’t be able to get a good night’s sleep.

Clicking your tongue as she cracks the code, you finally admitted your true purpose on being here and that didn’t lead Karina surprised in any way. “Okay, okay—I just came here to check on you because of what happened yesterday.” Your tone is sincere as Karina can hear it laced between every word you say as she stops drinking and averted her attention towards you.

“About what? What happened yesterday?” Karina’s tone is fused with puzzlement as she seems to not know what you’re talking about but you know how she’s brushing it off by trying to pretend to be oblivious and that won’t work on your watch, nonetheless what may happen. Sitting right beside her and placing your arms onto the table, you face her as your disposition weighs gravitas.

“I heard the news—you broke up with him and you’re here to drink it off, don’t you.”

You can see the visible frustration on Karina’s face the second you bring up the topic as she manages to maintain her obliviousness but that won’t last for long as it’s bound to break at any time now.

Karina scoffs as she raises her voice a little, provoking her inner rage from bringing up the forgetful event now, “ What do you even mean by that? Nothing even happened!”

“Oh, Karina, Karina, Karina—stop telling me that and I’m here to talk that with you.” Concern paints all over your face and as much as she’s incredibly stubborn in denying the truth, you chose to really be patient with her and address the situation where both parties won’t be provoked with anger and deep grudges at the end. “By the way, where are your friends? Aren’t they supposed to comfort you—”

“What are you even talking about??” Karina angrily boils her frustration out from even diving further onto the topic as she’s still in denial, the dormant rage inside her waiting to be boiled up and erupt soon like a volcano. “Also, they’re all busy and I want to be alone by myself!”

“Hey, hey—” You grabbed her wrists and made her face you as enchantingly, your gaze makes her calm down as you reassure her with your mellow tone and with touch on her hands “—I’m sorry for bringing that up but please, talk to me.”

Karina’s unstoppable fury finds its absolute demise as it slowly dissipates, your touch and your tone calming her down as she feels defeated and you can see it in her expressions and most of all, her eyes—her eyes that never lie. You know that you’re one of her weaknesses and can’t help but unveil the truth whenever she’s with you—for multiple case—and that's the beauty of it: you have each others’ trust and no one can break that apart, not even yourselves as the platonic love of being friends is within the both of you.

“Talk to me about what happened, Karina.”

You’re maybe crossing the line in terms of her privacy and the will to reflect but nonetheless, your advances are meant for the best for her as she probably needs someone to talk to, personally even though she’s not clearly vocal about it.

Now, gaining the courage and letting herself be in a state of tranquil, she lets herself be vocal about everything as she feels the utter comfort with you and with alone, puts a smile on your face. Karina then scoffs and lets out a deep sigh before looking at the distance, feeling vexed about the situation she just saw. “I saw him with someone else, kissing t-that another girl…”

You can sense Karina’s walls breaking down, piece by piece as she was deeply hurt at what she saw, leaving a wound down her heart that she absolutely can’t bear to deal with. Her voice gets hoarse as the emotions inside her are winning yet she still manages to tell you what happened despite the struggle she’s dealing with. “And like, I was like, a-at the distance and then, my w-world just fell down after that…”

Concern paints your face as you were disheartened at what happened as you think that hurt much worse knowing that it all happened ephemerally as she probably can’t comprehend how she’s badly hurt. “Oh fuck—I’m sorry t-to hear that, Karina…”

“Oh, you don’t n-need to be sorry.” Karina wipes her tears gracefully with her index finger as she faintly smiles at you, feeling a little grateful on listening to her. Of course, your curiosity took over you as you wanted to know more of what she saw, knowing for a fact that you may gather information or to do something with it.

“Have you seen the one he cheated with? Any features you saw on the girl?”

Karina scoffs again, yet this time, anger is starting to boil down as her face permeates vengeance and utter discomfort trying to think of that girl he cheated with but nonetheless, she gave you some vague answers. “I don’t really know ‘cause I didn’t really look at her but she’s probably my height and she has wavy, red hair—I think. Tch, don’t want to talk about that bastard anymore.”

You can definitely see how annoyed she is whenever she talks about the event she would want to completely forget. Knowing such vague information can’t really put you up onto a desirable conclusion to help her with a revenge, you’d probably want to keep yourself off at their problem as you want no more harm or much better, to completely brush this off as you want Karina’s heart to probably mend slowly with you by her side.

Yes, even if the line’s crossed only with being just friends with her, you show passion and support towards her and it;s further ignites with your true feelings of love for her. Yes, that’s right—you genuinely love her to the point that you’re being on her tail and obsessed with her but those are the days where you’re completely depressed and she herself helped out of it and ever since that happened, you’ve never looked at her the same way again (in a good way, though).

Your love for her is unconditional, that you only love to see her genuinely happy as always, and you’re willing to make her happy whenever she’s feeling down if possible… and that’s true love.

When Karina’s about to take another sip, you stop her as she’s shocked with your actions yet you’re just implying a better change for her as it’s for her own good, not yours. “Alcohol’s not always the way, Karina.”

Of course, Karina lightly glares at you, pouting slightly before giving her reasoning, “Come on, I paid for this—just let me finish it.”

“Okay, but that’s your last, alright? Don’t want you to go out of here drunk that you couldn’t see straight.”

Of course, she has a point and you let her be. It’s at least better than most of the ways you’re thinking when she’s depressed or not in the mood and you’ll do everything to enlighten that glowing delight she always had. Yes, you’re determined to make her happy and that’s what makes her grateful to have a friend like you…

---

“I think we should go home.”

“To where, Karina?”

“My place—you can also stay for the night since I ditched his cheating ass.” Karina retorts, displaying her rage towards him and her authority over her place.

“Damn—never knew you’re brutal.”

“What do you mean I’m brutal? He definitely deserves it!” Karina exclaimed as she stated her point and you absolutely got it—her goddamn deserves it as you just played her with your own sarcasm, making her smile a little.

Even though with the free road and minimal traffic ahead, the ride was still killing enough time as you didn’t mind it, not when the both of you jammed onto the songs throughout the travel and even talked about some interesting topics that sure piqued both your interests as the both of you get to know each other even more. You can sense her happiness slowly recharging back to its original state as her constant bright smiles and laughs with you are enough of an evidence and that alone makes yourself feel gleeful for her own good.

“Well, I think, in your place it is…”

Well, if that’s the final conclusion, then you’ll be happy to be with for the rest of the night and maybe, something may go onto the road of no-return or something we called as a spicy one…

---

“Wow, it's still as good as when I last came here.”

Karina can’t hide the chuckle she’s doing as she feels flustered with the said compliment, knowing that she organized it all well and it’s probably a man’s dream to have a home this simple yet luxurious in anyone’s eyes.

“Well, evil spirits may come and go but it’s all looking fine—you wanna eat something, though?”

With Karina’s polite approach towards you, you might not want to decline her offer as you’re on the verge of some unbearable hunger yourself. So, without a doubt, you agreed and stood up, approaching her as she’s still busy looking for food in the fridge.

“Do you want some fried chicken? I can microwave it if you want—”

“Yeah, sure, Rina. I’ll do it myself so you don’t have to and we’ll share this…”

You then grabbed the glass tupperware from the refrigerator full of fried chicken as you prepared the ceramic plate and grabbed four for the both of you. Karina smiles from your gentlemanly advances as you initiated to do the job yourself and even though she would want herself to do the job, you just insisted on doing it yourself and that makes her heart flutter a little. You then put those delicious chicken into the microwave and set up the timer, time being the tool to test your patience as you turned to talk to her in order to kill some time of waiting.

“By the way, why are you dressed like that even though you just went to the bar?” Again, curiosity peaks your interest as you’re a bit puzzled on why she’s looking like a majestic princess with that glittery one-piece dress with only a couple of her time to spare to just drink and reflect?

“Well, what if I told you that I just wanted to dress like this?” Karina feigns her denial again, as she’s not even trying to convince you with her demeanor as the lack of gravitas made you conclude that she did something before she even went to the bar.

“And that’s a major ‘what if’, Karina. You went somewhere that’s why you dressed like that, didn't you?” You’re tone laces hubris, as you know that she went somewhere elegant to dress with the same energy of elegance. She won’t deny herself—even though she technically didn’t, and just enlightened you with a proposition.

“Okay—me and my friends went to a party and I was hesitant at first but I gave in. Also, I’m sorry I lied to you, again…”

Well, that makes much more of a sense and not going to lie, the first time you laid your eyes on her, it was an enchanting experience—it felt like your world went into an abrupt stop as you’re mesmerized on how drop-dead gorgeous she is in all aspects you can think of: her pretty, perfectly-shaped face that's visuals are blowing your mind, her porcelain skin that you’d just want to run over your fingers to feel its smoothness, her hourglass figure and that dress complimenting her curves so well and more than what you could possibly tell.

Yes, you’re goddamn in love once you saw her and you won’t be a hypocrite and deny anything unlike her—it always has been this way yet you’re just scared to confess your true feelings towards her because of her relationship and now knowing she’s pretty much in a ‘single’ status, you’ll take this opportunity slowly as your chances would be higher.

Maybe, even though it’s selfish and partly wrong on your side, there’s no harm that can be done as you won’t lose everything and will have everything to win.

“Nah, it’s fine, Rina. Also, you look great in that outfit by the way. I love it on you.”

Karina inches closer on you while you’re still leaning onto the center table at the kitchen, waiting for the food to be heated. As she approaches you closely, you could sense some rising tension from her but brush it off, thinking it’s just one of your fallacies and delusions yet it becomes more evident when she’s just inches away from you, and smiling genuinely before eyeing on your chest and maintaining eye contact towards you.

“Thanks, glad you love this outfit on me but—” Karina intoxicates you with her sweet, alcoholic breath and then catching you off-guard with a torrid kiss that made your eyes lit up in shock and excitement, her immediate actions causing you to panic, your heart tripling its beat but nonetheless, you treasure every second invested onto the kiss as you eagerly reciprocated. You find the taste of her lips addicting as you fall under her spell and you find yourself diving deeper into the intimacy of such a hot kissing session.

The earlier turmoil was now calmed as the storm is now raging between the both parties, letting both your aggressions act up as your hands roams around her waist and her body and hers roaming around the back of your head which further ignites the fiery fervor between the both of you.

Such good things can be met with their own denouement as she pulls out of your lips’ embrace slowly, and then looking at your eyes endearingly and said, “I know what you're feeling—” Karina then points at your chest, onto your heart and continued, “—I can feel right here, beating for me.”

Well, her clever mind found out your genuine adoration towards her as there’s no point of turning back or denying—you just need confirmation from yourself even though it’s not needed, the beat of heart says so and she can feel it.

“You may not know this, Karina but—” Your hands then caressed her slender waist throughout the expensive clothing as your eyes captivate her, “—I've fallen in love with you ever since we’ve met yet I’m just scared to tell it all to you…”

You let yourself be free from the shackles that confined your true feelings for her as this opportunity should be seized up to its finest. You’ve never felt such a great sigh of relief until she directed what you’re really feeling and now with yourself being free and eased up, you couldn’t contain your need for her as you’re the one who initiated another kiss this time as the sloppy sounds of it became evident on how much you needed each other. Such clashing of soft fleshes never felt so good, and it’s better when Karina’s tongue starts dancing all over yours, intertwined as both muscles fight for dominance and utter adoration. With the messy, sloppy kisses that’s been going on for minutes, the both you further indulged into it as you didn’t mind the messy saliva that was all over your mouth since you’ve started.

“God—y-you’re such a great kisser…”

“You too, Karina—I never knew I needed this.”

Karina sighs as she felt flustered from your actions, and enlightened you with her own feelings too. “I never knew I’ll feel the same as you did to me, honestly…”

You felt a surge of serotonin when Karina grabbed your hand and directed it onto her chest—even though it's a little uncomfortable due to the feeling of accidentally touching her busts, you’d trust her because you trust her—and then, you can feel the subsequent fast beating of her heart.

That alone makes you feel flustered knowing that the feelings are mutual between each other and you’d like to take a step further yet you need great pace with that, of course.

“Can you feel it? It’s just the same as what you’re feeling too…”

Exchanging smiles because of the comfortable feeling she has shown you, you initiated another torrid kiss yet this time, you didn’t fully invest your attention towards kissing her intimately but rather, fondled her massive mounds that you’ve always wanted to touch yet something provoked her which scared you.

“Hey! Oohh~”

“Oh shit—I’m sorry, Karina—”

“No!” Karina then grabbed your hand as she directed it onto her mounds for another time, making you involuntarily squeeze them gently and fondle them with care and in response, she moaned beautifully as its almost inaudible yet it blessed your ears and it’s such a brilliant cacophony to hear. “I want more of this~”

Given the green light, you gently kiss her neck and collarbones while fondling her tits with care and inevitably, she lets out such angelic moans that you can listen to all damn day if it means to make you feel good on your end too. Your hands can’t latch onto anything but her pillowy mounds that are magnetized within your touch as you can’t be bothered to stop due to how stress-relieving and soft those are—you’ll definitely treasure this one as Karina herself is more than a golden treasure you’re glad you can possess.

It didn’t take long before she let you take off her dress within a single motion, removing the strap off just to unveil her taut nipples all on display and you could feel your hunger coursing down your veins once you saw those buds being stiff. Of course, wanting Karina to be comfortable, you need her permission first before doing anything that can let anybody know how insatiable she is for you.

“May I?” You asked while kneeling down in level with her chest and with that actions if yours, she’s getting the grip of what you want to accomplish for both of your gratifications.

“Go ahead, baby—oh fuck! There~ ohh—shit,so good!”

Subsequent moans escape her lips as you gently nibble the bud with your teeth and then latch your tongue on it to stimulate the taut nipple, offering the best quality of pleasure possible for her. While you’re fully invested on feasting onto the succulent taste of her mounds, Karina takes some energy to let you know about her wants as you stopped and take some time to eavesdrop on her proposition.

“C-can we take this on my b-bedroom—there’s more room there for us to do this, or maybe even m-more—ahh~”

Within a speed of light, you instantly agreed onto it as she faintly smiled yet full of glee with the wants being mutual. “Of course, Karina—we should’ve thought about this sooner, honestly.”

“You’re right—but let’s g-go now. I can’t wait to see what you can do for, and to me…”

It’s only a matter of time before you settle yourselves onto the climax of the show where everything will be unveiled, within your very eyes…

---

“Oh gosh—k-keep doing that, baby…”

Constant fondling ensues as the sultry sounds escaping her lips fuels you to further keep up the pace and the momentum going. It was pleasurable for the both of you, as her constant, subtle writhing was enough of an evidence everytime you lay your fingers or your lips onto her sensitive body as you worship it, from head to toe, probably.

Even with all of these things on the way, you can’t help but think of one thing that’s been clouding your mind ever since and with that thought, it would be perfect but you need to enlighten Karina first with your proposition as it’s willing to find the best gratification between both parties.

Now laying onto the bed, you look deeply at Karina’s glowing orbs as you mutter, “I think there’s one way to make these things better, for you and me…”

Karina’s eyes lit in excitement on what you may have in store, and also, anticipation fully rules over her and so is curiosity, making up for all the elements of being a cute, curious cat that she most likely possesses.

“Hm, you’ll see, Karina—but for now—” You let herself rest on the bed as you rose up and got something onto her drawer. Karina trusts you truly as she let herself fully anticipate your possible reward and as you face her again, she notices a black strip of cloth being brought over by you as she’s perplexed with that, thinking what you may do to her.

“Why do you have that? What are you going to do with it?”

You smirk with your devilish thoughts in mind, opting to let her anticipate for the fullest yet you’ll let her know what you had in mind that probably corrupted you for so long. “You know, Rina, I’ve thought of really doing this with you but only if you want to…”

“What is it?”

You leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Maybe a blindfold will make things better, isn’t it?”

Of course, Karina’s eyes glisten with everything that’s lustful and utter anticipation as you almost feel like you’re going to submerge into kissing her but you refrain from that, sticking onto the plan that you have in store for her. Karina then rose up from her previously laid position as every movement she does with her naked body in display is just hypnotizing yet you didn’t bother yourself drooling and wrapped her head with the dark cloth that’s on your hands, forming up a blindfold that will make anything more pleasurable as her senses will took over her, letting her savor every moment possible.

“Too tight?”

“No, it’s perfectly fine…” You can see Karina’s head wandering around as her lack of vision lets her fight-and-flight response to activate but with her utmost trust bestowed towards you, she feels comfortable as she succumbs to your care and you’ll absolutely treat her with what your heart can do, at its best.

“You sure you can’t see anything, Karina?” Of course, you need to double-check and further confirm if she can’t see anything before you start the multiple things you’ll do with her as Karina nods eagerly, persuading you that all she can see are dark hues and nothing else.

“What number is this?” Still hesitant, you draw your fingers into the air and form a number ‘three’ with it to make sure Karina can’t see anything. Growing impatient, Karina whines adorably as she’s still convincing you that she can’t see anything but in reality, you’re just annoying her just to see how adorable she is and how that cuteness of hers will soon fade when you sullied her—

“Come on, can you just—ooh—oh! That’s g-good~” Karina, still on the trance of being feisty, moaned immediately once you’ve pinch her taut buds with your fingers as you slowly relaxed her slender figure onto the bed, letting her imagination be her limit as she uses her senses to attend her needs and feel such gratification. You continue fondling her mounds until your other hands roam onto her toned midriff, her smooth, creamy thighs that you definitely nuzzle on for hours and the main event, her succulent, wet pussy that’s ready to take you, more than anything.

“You like that, Karina—the way my fingers just tease you? Oh, you could just feel it and if you can see right now, you’d probably know how wet you are, dripping onto the sheets…” With her heightened senses, she muffled her moans in order to feel and hear every action you do onto her body yet she can’t, and rather find each moan increasing in volume as she voices out her delight. You could hear her pleas as she seems needy and helpless with her state, and you, yourself, can’t even bear to see her whining uncontrollably without her needs being attended to yet you need more foreplay to fire the lust that’s been igniting inside her.

“Just a bit more, Karina—just wanna let you feel how good this is…”

“I k-know but p-please, baby—I can’t t-take it anymore!”

You can’t just let her plead for eternity, and even with your own needy self being encouraged to dive into it deeper, you listen to the voices inside your head and let your hips do the work—the mere containment of each others’ needs shouldn’t be retained further, and let everything be unveiled.

With only her sense aiding up to make herself be in the momentum of peak pleasure, she could only know you’re planning something ahead of this as she yelped once she felt your tip brushing against her wet folds and immediately, her thighs quiver and she squirmed in need in response of your teasing actions. With the deprivation of her senses, especially on her vision, she could only moan (almost screams) in need once you’ve plunged your length inside her and even with only your tip being hugged by her velvety walls, you could definitely feel her tightness as it’s gripping like its last and that’s one hell to define utter gratification.

“Fuck—you’re s-so tight, Karina—shit, so fucking tight!”

“Oh god—y-you’re so big—so good, oh god! I n-never felt this good!!”

You then start to pump onto her gripping walls with a moderate pace, aiming for her to really feel the pleasure and they way how your cock moves inside her wet cunt. Not being able to see opens a lot of opportunities especially when imagining something, and that’s probably what Karina’s doing as she treasures every thrust you do, your movements only aiming to further increase her needs for you and her libido. You start off slow, and gradually, build up the pace for some time yet you want to extend that so that Karina will most likely savor every hammer you do onto her wet, squelching cunt as her moans are strong evidence that she’s loving every second of this.

With only your tip inside when you withdraw, and then slamming back in, balls-deep is such an incredible factor that Karina finds, especially when she can’t see anything and would just feel everything you do. You’re hammering onto her wet cunt hard as you savor the grip her pussy does around to your raging length and to further stimulate her, you won’t just grip her hips and fuck her with a constant, relentless pace but rather, let her feel more than just one epicenter of attraction. With deep hunger and insatiability over her, your lips latch onto her sharp collarbones and her neck, making her feel your affection alongside your constant pumps into her pussy. The stimulation she’s experiencing right now is more than phenomenal as everything you do highlights every single detail on the utter gratification she’s feeling and that alone is such a great feeling for her to feel. It didn’t take long before you fondle her mounds again for the umpteenth time to further pleasure her as both your moans resonates around the puny room that’s soon will unable to cover them all, releasing symphonies of lust in which, will be the last thing you want to encounter.

“Does it feel better, Karina?”

It took her seconds before she could come up to articulate what you’ve just said, the peak pleasure she’s feeling frying her brain and making her incapable of thinking straight. “Y-Yes, it does—oh god, w-we should’ve done t-this sooner—ahh~”

You suckle onto the porcelain skin of her neck, tasting the musky flavor of her skin as sweat dribbled over it, the heat of the moment finally being permeated onto minuscule droplets. Your harsh suckling tends to almost mark her, which she can feel as her hands roam all over your torso, specifically on your chest as she mutters, “D-Don’t mark me p-please…”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t mark you, Karina, don’t worry…”

Now, with a profound fervor and intense rush of need towards her, your hips are now starting to quickly build up a breakneck pace, maybe, capable of breaking her in half as you go ruthless, letting your animalistic urges take over you. Your constant rhythm sends both of your brains into an overdrive that no one can fix but yourselves and you may not even bother too, wanting yourselves to dive in between your devilish needs and the utter wanton needs that you’ve been longing for and been deprived of for a long time.

Having enough of showering her with kisses and the fondling of her tits that further submits her into utter submission, you then held her frame with both of your hands on her hips as you ensued a more ruthless pace, further hammering her wet cunt with no point of mercy and even returning back as her moans are now being converted to needy whimpers and cries which further fuels you to increase your quality of thrusts. Her senses being deprived is maybe a blessing in disguise, because on what you can conclude, she’s becoming more wetter and letting her imagine what could be happening—even down to the last, minute details—is just throwing gasoline onto the flames of lust and your needs.

Now, with a newly-crafted pace, another rhapsody has been orchestrated as it hits a series of wonders throughout your brain and Karina’s, as the pleasure was being the tool of forming melodies to voice out your satisfactions. She then wrapped her legs around your waist as you continue hammering her wet folds like there’s no tomorrow, her moans encouraging you for more and for the best of everything even though it isn’t needed—if you could only see the glint of lust within her eyes, and how it glows is her own, wanton needs, then you’ve probably broke loose and speaking of that, it’s coming not for long and it’s just going to be better.

With the constant barrage of uncontrollable thrusts resonating such cacophonous sounds of bodies clashing together and such angelic moans, it wasn’t long before Karina deemed herself to reach closer to her eternal bliss, chasing her orgasm with her hips gyrating onto your constantly ramming length and then—

“I’m super c-close—gahh, ooh~”

The world lit up white as she succumbs onto that bliss, despite the darkness that envelops her vision as she unshackles the beast inside her, creaming all over your length as it stains everywhere on its vicinity of your nether regions: your length, your balls, the bed sheets, and some even shooting onto the floor but those were only minimal amounts.

With the arousing sight of Karina cumming hard as she can’t manage to really control how hard her orgasm hit her, it wasn’t long before you could also feel yourself drawing close to the ring of fire. With more ruthless thrusts in order to chase yours, it’s all bound to break as you immediately find your lips latching onto hers, sharing a torrid kiss in which she eagerly reciprocated and then, everything came loose.

You bury your entire length, filling her up to the hilt as you deepen the kiss, letting her know how you’re in your approaching orgasm as you fill her up with multiple streaks of thick, warm semen that’s bound to set both yourselves onto the state of paramount bliss, in which, it does. You pull out of the torrid kiss as the muffled moans from earlier are being vocally being heard, finally voicing out how great the both of you are feeling throughout your orgasm and her walls being painted white.

Now, with your impending orgasm, you slowly limp beside her as you recover from your high as does Karina, breathing heavily, chest heaving for air. You then turn onto her and remove her blindfold in one, swift motions and god, she looks ethereal, like a beautiful butterfly emerging from its cocoon as her beauty never fails to amaze you, let alone adore her in levels you can’t comprehend. She smiled widely as her endearing eyes greets you, feeling satisfied that you’ve dumped a nice volume of load inside her cunt that she’s been longing for so long now.

“Oh, that was w-way better than I expected…”

The both of you exchange smiles as delight can be felt coursing down your veins, and you immediately voiced out how great the experience was. “See? I know you’ll love these kinds of things—I told you…”

The two of you shared another intimate kiss, but this time, it’s fully passionate as the ardor between both parties ignite and not so long after, she pulled out of your lips’ embrace as you hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body complimenting yours as the intense surge of adrenaline of pure passion is just clouding both your minds, unable to find out of such a wholesome cuddling session.

“Thanks for c-cumming inside me—I really wanted that for so long.”

You scoff, feeling a little shy yet in all arms in terms of giving her what she wanted. “No problem, Karina—you felt great too… Hah…”

With silence permeating the air on the once lust-filled room, the both of you stared at each other endearingly before Karina thought that something’s not right and suddenly, a spark ignites inside her—

“Oh gosh—the chicken! We totally forgot about it!!”

And well, gladly your hunger met a hindrance, and guess what? It was all for the better as you get to bless yourself with the treatment of Karina’s insatiability and that alone, is a five-star meal you’re willing to savor and cherish for the time being.

Perhaps, maybe treat you to another, if given the right time…

#kinknuary 2024 #aespa smut #karina smut #aespa x male reader #karina x male reader

1K notes · View notes

httpsserene · 5 months

Note

hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

sumbit a request | join the taglist | table of contents | next ↻

oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now.

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate.

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental.

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back.

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives.

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed.

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened).

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science.

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline.

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver.

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch.

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed.

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap.

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

2K notes · View notes

shooting-love-arrows · 5 months

Note

could you write where darling wakes up and sees 1950s husband in the middle of his morning routine and finds out hes not as neat as they thought?

but instead of taking it badly they love him even more

Dear Anon,

Aww, that's heartwarming!

@shooting-love-arrows

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 and not so perfect morning

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied) Tw. angsty, hurt and comfort. A/N: I decided to take into consideration this question when writing this fic. So it is longer and about our dearest 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Squeeack…

You were awoken by the quiet and familiar sound of the bathroom door being open. It means only one thing: your dear husband was currently in the bathroom. Like every other day during this time around.

“Ugh…” A soundless groan of misery left your mouth. Unluckily you didn't sleep well that night. Your sleep was shallow and you couldn't seem to find a comfortable position. Not to mention you woke up to every sound you could hear. And just when you were slipping into a blissful dreamland, your bathroom doors decided to prevent you from slipping further. For now, you snuggled closer to your fluffy pillow. Your thoughts began to roam freely but at some point focused on something that has been bothering you for a while.

It was confusing.

At the very beginning of your marriage, you found it surprising. Not many people were that determined to wake up early in the morning. After a few months, you reasoned that it was just part of his personality. Perhaps a perfectionist problem? Part of his routine he didn’t want to stray from? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to pray. Your logic was that if he wants to share it with you, he’ll do so. But after months turned into years, with you still being left in the dark, you began to feel…doubt.

“Why does he do that?” You wondered more than once. You had no idea what was the reason why your sweetheart got up before you, shuffled around the bathroom, only to come back to bed right before your alarm clock rang, like nothing ever happened. “What does he do there? Should I ask him? Does he want me to ask him? Maybe I should wait for him to tell me himself?”

So many questions, so little answers…

You sighed heavily. It looks like you won’t be able to catch some zzz’s anymore. You were too awake, especially with your mind running miles an hour.

“What a pity…” You rolled over your back and groggily opened your eyes. You blinked a few times to adjust your eyesight. The familiar white ceiling of your cozy bedroom greeted you like an old friend. Streams of warm sunlight were shyly peaking in the room from behind the gaps of the closed curtains. Everything stood still. It was peaceful. You let yourself sink into the soft bed and strained your ears to hear your husband shuffling in the bathroom. You wanted to say you were content but… “What a pity he isn’t here with me…”

You let your eyes slide over to the other side of the bed. It tugged on your heart that it was cold and empty with a messily thrown blanket and a pillow with a dent the size of your husband's head is what has greeted you. It was a let down. You wished he was there to greet you with his brilliant smile that seemed to light up the room, whisper to you a ‘good morning, my darling’ that always caused your heart to skip a beat and let you kiss his soft lips that perfectly molded with yours. This is what you needed to start a good day.

Involuntarily you did a big and satisfying stretch. Your body felt heavy and begged you to stay in. Just lay down…under those fluffy blankets. Let yourself relax and wait for your dearest husband to climb back beside you. Wake up to him and cherish those kisses you'll share…

“I’m spoiled fella, aren’t I?”

There was no point in dwelling about such matters this early in the morning.

With a heavy sigh, you bravely fought those demons of laziness and decided to get up. You decided to invest this energy in something productive instead. And there’s so much to do around the house!

“Hold on a moment…isn’t my husband in the bathroom?” Your mind went blank before you eagerly jumped out of your bed. You wouldn’t miss a chance to spend more time with the love of your life.

You shuffled towards your bathroom, barely containing your happiness. So high on positive emotions and not expecting anything unusual, you didn’t even hesitate to open the door.

Squeeack!

There was a beat of silence. Both of you froze for entirely different reasons.

You stopped mid stride when entering the small space. Your jaw went slack when your eyes took a closer look at your husband. Your shoulder dropped and you took a deeper breath. His face was…bare. His glistening face seemed to be freshly washed since it was glowing in the warm light. He…he was mesmerizing.

While you were too busy admiring the entirely new side of your husband you didn’t notice how 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 seemed to be feeling the exact opposite of you. His eyes widened till the white was showing around his irises and his stare didn’t dare to stray from you. His breathing quickened and his body began to fold, hoping to make himself smaller.

This couldn’t be happening…it can’t be! How…why are you awake? Why are you here? You…fuck…you found him out!

“Swee — ”

“This can’t be happening…! You…no…how…?” You were cut off by your husband's quiet and wobbly muttering. Your eyebrows threw together and your body grew still. You were quick to note how your husband hid his face from you and was hunched over the sink. You heard just how heavy his breathing has become. Something was clearly wrong.

“Sweetheart…?”

The reality around 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 became more vivid. His senses heightened to the point he was sure he could feel his surroundings. He was sinking so deep into his headspace he began to get lost there. Everything was becoming too much. His head, his thoughts and his feelings were ripping him apart. And the reason behind it was very valid. Whatever he has built around his person, whatever worth he had in your eyes and the control were gone with the swing of those blasted doors!

“Dearest?”

He was falling apart.

You flinched back (but only because you didn’t expect it) when he started laughing hysterically. Your concern for your husband only grew tenfold when you saw his state worsening by every second. You wanted to help him however you didn’t understand what could be the cause of this. Was it…you?

It turns out you didn’t have more time to analyze the situation, because you had to rush over when you saw your husband crumbling to the floor. Before his body could hit the ground at full force, you caught him safely in your arms. He was hyperventilating and you feared that he would pass out from the lack of air. His body was shaking badly and muttering things under his nose like a madman. Just like you did many times before in different scenarios, you tucked his head into the crook of your neck, laid your chin on top of his head, brought him safely into your arms to hold him tightly. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 closed his eyes, brought his knees close to his chest and circled his arms around them. He curled into a tight ball, slowly rocking back and forth in your arms.

Sob…sob…sob…

But your heart broke when you heard the first sobs escaping his lips.

You really wished you would know what to say or do in that situation. You wished you were more educated on that matter so you could be useful. You wished you could fulfill your role as his lifetime partner to him. Unfortunately, for now you had to rely on your instinct with a promise to be better and aid your husband in the time of need.

Starting now.

“Let it out love…let it out…” You whispered against his ear and started caressing his head. Sweet nothings began to pour out of your mouth soon after. Half of his curls were freed from the curlers and you carefully carded your fingers through them in a soothing motion.

“Y…you…u…fo…fou…nd…out…!” He wailed in your neck after a while of intense crying. His voice held nothing but despair, pain and heartbreak. Not to mention he could barely speak with how violent his sobs were. You blinked rapidly, scrambling to understand what he meant by that.

“What have I found out, dearest husband?” You lowered your voice.

“You…you…w…will…leave…leave…me!” He choked out those words like he didn’t hear your question.

Your eyes widened when you heard this statement. How could he think you’ll leave him? What’s the reasoning behind this logic? Are you failing as a partner? Apparently so because otherwise, your husband shouldn’t be saying, nor even thinking, about such dark thoughts.

Some moments passed before you opened your mouth again.

“For better and for worse…for better, for worse…for richer, for poorer…in sickness and in health…until death do us part.” You whispered those sacred vows, engraved in your mind till the end of your time. You squeezed him tighter so your bodies were melting against each other. Your husband's eyes widened when he heard them, especially when laced with so much love and adoration just like during your wedding. His chest was heaving up and down, violent hiccups jolting his body. His face was flushed, fat tears pouring from his eyes and snot steadily coming down his nose.

He was at his worst, ugly and disgusting. And you…you dared to say those words? Why…?

“Be it whether you’re at your best, at your worst, when we’re young and when we’ll grow old, whether you wear your makeup or not. I am here for you.” You swallowed thickly and fought against your own tears. Your husband needs you and you won’t fail him ever again.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 processed your words before he let out another wail that echoed in the bathroom. You felt your husband latching onto your waist and clutching onto it tightly. He was afraid that if he won’t hold tight enough you’ll get up and leave him for good. He buried his face in your neck and continued to cry harder. He was reduced to a crying mess and shadow of the person he usually portrays himself as.

“I will never cease to love you, the dearest love of my life.”

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

2K notes · View notes

piichuu · 7 months

Text

♡ FALLING ASLEEP ON HIM

ft. mikage reo, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader

MIKAGE REO

the two of you have been away on an event late into the night and it’s safe to say that no one can stay alert after that. as soon as you hopped back into the car, you were ready to close your eyes and allow yourself to succumb to sleep, but you had to get home to change into comfortable clothes before that.

reo is helping you out of the clothes you’ve been wearing as he noticed that tired look of yours as soon as you stepped into your home. he pulls one of his t-shirts over your head and watches you make your way towards the bed where you lie down and get under the covers.

he chuckles lightly and get himself into a pair of sweatpants before doing the same as you, getting under the covers and wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest. he smiles softly as he sees how you’re still trying to keep your eyes open even though sleep is inevitable. “close your eyes, baby. you should get some sleep,” he whispers and kisses your cheek right when you do as he says, closing your eyes and finally falling asleep after fighting the tiredness for hours.

your head is resting against his warm chest and reo places a lingering kiss to your forehead before it’s time for him to sleep as well. the best thing about events may be the fact that he gets to hold you like this all night, because you never sleep as deeply as this unless it’s after a tiring day.

ITOSHI RIN

your head is resting on his shoulder as the two of you are resting on the couch. rin has been away for football practice all day while you’ve been busy studying, so spending time with each other is well needed, especially after all the yelling your boyfriend has heard from his coach.

his eyes are stuck to the tv where your favorite program is playing and he leans his head against yours, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb as your fingers are intertwined. tiredness is slowly overcoming both of you and rin can’t help his eyes from closing every once in a while, but he quickly forces them open so he won’t fall asleep just yet. it’s still evening and he will wake up way too early tomorrow if he falls asleep now.

you begin to cuddle further into him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “do you have practice tomorrow?” you ask as rin looks down at you who’s now nuzzling your face into his shoulder. he sighs and leans his head back. “unfortunately yes. but i have it in the afternoon, so we’ll be able to sleep in for a little while.”

“that’s good,” you mumble while allowing yourself to relax in his warmth. one of his arms is now put around your waist and he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. “are you falling asleep?” he rubs your waist comfortingly and waits for a reply, but as he doesn’t get one, he gently moves your head away from his shoulder so he can see your face. your eyes are closed and you slowly begin to fully relax, you’re asleep.

he sighs and strokes your cheek before pulling you closer to him so you can rest your head against his chest. “i guess we can sleep a little early today,” rin whispers as he as well closes his eyes and allows himself to be taken over by sleep.

ITOSHI SAE

“you must be tired, darling. i’ll fix a bath for you so you can relax, okay?” your boyfriend strokes your arm as you nod your head and follow him into the bathroom. sae flashes you a fond smile and begins to fill the bath tub with water before helping you undress.

your eyes are drooping and you could probably fall asleep standing, so the man in front of your has to shake you by the shoulders every once in a while to keep you awake. “you can sleep soon, i promise. let’s just wash your hair and then we can go to bed, okay?” sae kisses your cheek and helps you get into the bath before he gets undressed as well and slips in behind you so you can rest against his chest.

he begins to pour some shampoo into the palm of his hand before gently massaging your hair, making sure to clean it as well as he can. you’re relaxed in his arms with your eyes closed, only becoming more sleepy by the warm and comforting feeling of his hands in your hair. he helps you wash the shampoo out while he continues to make sure you’ll feel clean when you wake up in the morning.

as sae continues to wash your hair, you soon enough grow limp in his arms and he has to quickly wrap an arm around your waist to make sure you won’t slip under the water. he holds you close to him and places a kiss to your temple as he finally finishes washing your hair. the next mission is to get you out of the bath tub, but he’ll let you relax for a few more minutes before risking to wake you up.

NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi has an arm around your waist as you’re in his lap, nuzzling your face into his shoulder blade while he’s playing games on his computer. he’s wearing his headphones and is caught up with talking to some of his friends that he is playing with, but he is still able to pay you some attention by kissing the top of your head every once in a while.

your hand is brushing through his hair and he hums contently. the sound of reo’s voice can be heard through the headphones and he continues to ask your boyfriend why he’s making so many faults in the game. perhaps nagi is paying more attention to you than you thought. he sighs and speaks into the small microphone that is connected to his headphones. “i’ll leave after this game, i wanna cuddle with my partner,” nagi says and a groan can be heard from reo who doesn’t seem too happy about it.

he looks down at you only to notice that you suddenly aren’t holding onto him as tightly as you previously were. without saying a word to reo, he leaves the game and shuts the computer off, not caring about the amounts of calls and texts he’ll receive from his best friend. eventually, snores can be heard coming from you and nagi smiles to himself as he slowly lifts you up, carrying you all the way to the bed so he can lay you down.

your arms are loosely wrapped around his neck and nagi crawls under the covers, still with you in his arms. “so sleepy,” he mumbles, kissing your forehead before pulling you close to his chest. “gotta make sure you sleep well, don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

ISAGI YOICHI

“you seem so tired, baby,” isagi pouts as he sits down on a kitchen chair beside you. he’s been helping you cook dinner for the last couple of minutes and has just now noticed the bags under your eyes and how you keep nodding off as you’re sitting on the chair.

he reaches out to cup your face and strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “maybe you should take a nap before it’s time for dinner, it’s still a few minutes left until i’ll finish cooking, so you’ll have time to sleep,” he speaks and you shuffle your chair closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. “you don’t want help cooking?”

isagi shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “i don’t need any help, you should go get some rest. i don’t want you to feel tired,” he smiles softly and watches as you drift off to sleep within a few seconds. he chuckles lightly to himself and wraps his arms around your waist. “not here, baby. you should sleep in bed,” isagi lifts you up and carries you towards the bedroom where he lays you down on the bed and covers you with blankets.

you stay asleep as he makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “i’ll wake you up when dinner is ready, don’t worry. just make sure you get some rest and we’ll go sleep together after dinner,” he strokes your head gently before leaving to cook for the two of you, smiling to himself as he now knows that you’re at least resting.

TAG LIST: @timetobegone @libbyistired @q2iepie @h4nman @thisbicc @yuxame @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @awkwardaardvarkforever @chilichopsticks

if you want to join the tag list, fill out this form <3333

2K notes · View notes

s4lv4tions · 7 months

Text

labour of love; nsfw

pairing; nanami kento x reader summary; something is on your husband's mind — nothing that can't be solved with a morning in bed, you're sure. wc; 4.6k cw; smut, largely vanilla, nanami kento is a loving husband etc

You’ve long since grown used to the press of knees against the mattress rousing you from your sleep. The gentle dip of the bed, the steady — if not stilted — breathing, the sudden waft of his cologne as he tries to settle himself beside you without waking you. It doesn’t work most nights, but Kento still tries.

He smells like the cleanliness of shower gel and the spicy goodness of his favourite fragrance, all nutmeg and saffron and warmth. It’s enough to have you rolling over to face him, half-lidded and half-asleep, hooking your leg over his waist and burying your nose into his neck. There’s a rough puff of air as he realises he’s failed to be stealthy — not for the first time, either. But he pulls you closer anyways, hands smoothing up your back as if to memorise the curve of your spine, or to cajole you back to dreamland.

If there was a way to become one with him you would’ve figured it out by now. Some days, in this bed, it feels like you’re close enough to discovery. Perhaps if you press every possible inch of yourself against him, share the same air, let your minds float away to the same place, it'll happen. Alas, you wake as two separate people, forced to peel yourselves apart when the sun rises and he's off to work. It’s always accompanied by disappointment, but for now you revel in the feeling of his firmness beneath you, and the beat of his pulse in your ears.

“Sorry for waking you up.”

He always says it, and you never mind, but you reply anyway. “It’s okay. I like seeing you.”

Kento’s arms tighten around you, and he says nothing back. The shaky breath muffled against your hair is enough to tell you how his day went, but you won’t ask him about it. Not yet, not when it’s still fresh in his mind. It’s enough of a blessing that he was able to return home at all tonight, instead of sleeping at his desk with only his jacket to fend off the cold. Still, even a good night’s sleep won’t solve everything. You can deal with it tomorrow.

“Did you eat?” You mumble, trying to ignore the seductive hands of sleep pulling at your brain. “I left… hamburger steak. In the fridge.”

“Mm.” His lips brush your hair, and you feel yourself slipping away, further and further into dreamland. “Don’t worry, darling. Just sleep.”

“O…kay… Sweet dreams… Kento…”

You always sleep best when you’re with Kento. You know this because, without fail, you end up drooling all over him like a dog. It's something that never happens when you’re bundled up alone, but it’s as if every muscle in your body relaxes something fierce when you’re with him. It’s embarrassing, and gross, but somehow he never minds. Just chuckles and watches you fuss over wiping it all away, teasing you about how deep you must’ve been sleeping. This morning is no different.

You’d woken with the sun. The curtains you’d forgotten to close shed honeyed sunlight across every fold of your blankets, every inch of skin, every tiny piece of dust floating in the still of the air. Hair tousled and mouth dry, you were so warm it almost made you fall right back asleep. Any part of you not covered in a blanket was wrapped, in some way, in Kento’s arms. The perfect morning. No longing looks as he rose to go to work; no cold side of the bed if he’d stayed in the office. Just perfection and warmth and… a drool stain on his arm.

Whether your cheeks are now warmed by the sun or a persisting feeling of embarrassment, you cannot say, but his hands are even warmer where they cup your face. You attempt to ignore him, scrubbing at his skin. “I need to tape my mouth shut.”

His thumb begins to smooth back and forth. If you were a cat you’d be purring. “Dramatic.”

A glare that’s far too soft. You push away the corner of the duvet you’d haphazardly chosen as your rag, cursing yourself for your weakness as you abandon your task and instead lean into him. “Oh, and I suppose you enjoy waking up every morning with a sticky bicep, Kento?”

“Mm.” The way he urges you towards him is not lost on you; it’s not until your noses brush and your lips part that he says: “I love it.”

“You’re gross.” Your smile betrays you, but you can’t help yourself. You let your graze trail over the handsome planes of his face; from his strong, pointed nose to his chiselled cheekbones, his thin, expressive eyes and tousled morning hair.

“Mhm. And you married me regardless.”

"Hm. I guess I did."

It's like two giggling children sharing the silliest inside joke. Your laughter is soft and breathless, still muddled with sleep, and it's natural the way that you fall into each other so easily. Your head falls back against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear; your legs intertwine, and your arms hook under his. Close enough to the point where you don’t know where one of you ends and the other starts. If only every day could start like this one, but you're the sort of person who cherishes rarity. And oh, how rare it is to wake up with him — speaking of which…

"You don't have work today?" You ask, trying (and failing) to keep the hope out of your voice.

"No." There's a little pause, before: "I finished up my latest project, so I took the day off."

You haven't forgotten the pledge you made to yourself yesterday: the promise to ease whatever may ail him, or at least to get to the bottom of it. “Woah. You passed up a chance to make money?”

“I suppose I did.”

"Hm, I don’t mind. I like having you to myself." Breakfast, that goes without saying. Maybe he'd prefer to go out for it, or maybe you could cuddle until brunch. Maybe he'd like to take the rare opportunity to stay in all day — and if you're in all day, you may as well do a little more than cuddle...

“You’ll have to share me with the laundry.”

“Mm.” As if drawn there, bolstered by the knowledge that you essentially have all the time in the world, your lips meet the side of his neck. You feel him swallow as you do, but Kento’s nothing if not poised; even as you dare to scrape your teeth along his skin, there’s no other reaction that’s quite so visceral. “I’m a jealous woman, you know.”

“I know.”

Those hands that had cupped your face start to trail down your back — warm and slightly calloused, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Brushing over the elasticated waistband of your panties, lingering just enough to be suggestive, but no more. You pretend that even the slightest whisper of his touch doesn’t make your stomach twist pleasantly, but you suppose you’re long past coyness, considering you are husband and wife. “And you married me, so you know I can’t share you.”

“Even with the laundry?”

“Oh, especially with the laundry.” You finally lift yourself from nipping at his pulse point, flushed and arching into his hands, and stare at him straight on. His gaze is half-lidded, but his eyes — oh, his eyes. So clear and sharp and fixed on you like he wants to print your image onto his eyelids. And his body is so firm beneath you, broad and muscular (you’ve never questioned how a salaryman who has no time to go to the gym is so incredibly fit, but you aren’t about to start now) — even on top of him you feel almost dwarfed. “But, speaking of laundry — we should probably get our money’s worth from the washing machine, then, shouldn’t we?”

An eyebrow quirks. “Oh?”

“Mhm. If we’re gonna wash the sheets, they may as well be as dirty as they can possibly be. Filthy, even.” No use in playing innocent. It’ll be killing two birds with one stone — multiple birds with one stone, even. You can treat your hardworking Kento to an orgasm or two, comfort him after what was no doubt a long, hard day — all the while you enjoy yourself in his arms, and save time and money with the laundry. Perfect.

You’re practically kneading his biceps at this point. The manicure he pays for bi-weekly digs in just slightly, leaving half-moon dents in his otherwise perfect skin. You don't worry about it too much; if there’s one thing you know about Kento it’s that he treasures those little marks above all else.

“How do you propose we do that?” He says, face purposefully blank.

Groaning, you give his arm a light slap. “C’mon, don’t make me say it, Ken.”

“I was joking, darling.” With a smile that sends your tummy flipping, he threads one hand in your hair, large palm flat against your skull, and urges you closer to him. The other settles itself against your jaw, keeping your head firmly in his hands, and it’s with very little shame that you melt into him. It’s hard not to — and besides, why starve yourself of something you’ve waited so long for? “I’m not that cruel.”

A liar he is not; with little fanfare, his lips meet yours, and it’s like every time before and every time after. His lips are smooth, his nose slanted to press against yours, and every movement is deep. His tongue licks into your mouth, lips moving against yours in such a way that you can’t help but moan. It's interesting to experience first-hand how much your relationship with Kento has changed over the years. When you first met him, he baulked at even the mere idea of tongue — this Kento, though, is some measure of depraved, and takes great pleasure in the way you squirm underneath him when his tongue runs over yours.

It’s the type of kiss that, inevitably, makes you want more. You’ve long since parted your legs to hug either side of his hips, and you whine at the press of his growing bulge against your panty-covered clit. It’s that dull sort of pleasure — not enough, never enough, and you’ll curl and arch and flex yourself until it feels like it might be, grinding down on the shape of him. At some point his hands move from your head to your waist — or are they at your back, your ass, your hips? You’re not keeping track. You only know that they sear the skin that they touch and set your nerves aflame, and that’s all that matters.

You’ve just broken apart to catch your breath, prepared to peel off your panties and have your way with him — but in the blink of an eye you’re weightless, and the world twists and warps and you’re under him, suddenly, with the wind knocked out of you. “Kento!”

“Sorry, love.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. In fact, the words are barely out of his mouth before he descends on you again, this time laying the entirety of his body against you. It’s all you can do to desperately follow the movement of his lips, the rocking his hips — and you’re clutching at his arms all the while, mind dizzied and chest heaving. You’re liable to let him have his way with you just like this, with your legs around his waist and your ankles pressing against his ass, but—

“Wait, I—” Panting, your grip on his biceps tightens, and you frown up at him— “I wanted to be on top, y’know. I wanted to give you a break.”

His laugh is gentle, breathy. In the haze of the morning every sharp edge of him is cotton-soft, his hair this honey sort of blonde wherever the light hits it — mind twisting juxtaposition to the red-hot pleasure broiling in the pit of your tummy. “It’s a husband's duty to worship his wife, is it not?”

“I—” His head dips to the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your skin in such a way that you shiver in his grasp. It’s sweet and indulgent and him, all him; his weight atop you, his hands on you, his scent around you. “I… Oh, You’re playing dirty, Kento.”

His answer is a hum that reverberates all throughout you. “Am I?”

You’re not expected to answer, and you doubt you have enough control over your muscles to do so, because just as you open your mouth, his fingers slip underneath your panties and slip over the hot, slick skin of your pussy. He’s always purposeful with you, and this time is no different — he does not fumble and flounder, unsure of where to put his hands. He has learned you well enough to know what brings you pleasure, and oh, does he want to bring you pleasure. He makes a glutton of you; gives you far too much, buys into your every whim. He can’t help himself.

You’re wet enough that he can slip a finger in with little difficulty — embarrassingly little difficulty, and you squeak as he slides it all in at one go. His fingers are thick, that goes without saying, but what makes Kento especially dangerous is his skill. He’s too attentive — watches everything, notes every shiver, the pitch of your voice when you whimper his name. He knows just what he needs to do to make you lose your mind — at that, as if he’s read your mind, another finger joins the first, jutting upwards to grind against that spongy spot that makes your legs jerk.

“O—oh,” you breathe, “That’s — okay, that’s good.”

“Is it?” Kento sounds far too amused for your liking, but you’re hardly in a position to scold him, not with your legs spread and your hips rolling up into his hand. “You're like wet velvet.”

“Don’t say things like that!” You whine, slapping a hand over your face. Your cheeks are red-hot, and it only adds to the overwhelming overstimulation — the sheets and Kento against your skin, the coolness of the pillows beneath your neck, the sounds that leave nothing to the imagination.

Sometimes you can’t believe your luck. Almost every partner before him was his complete and utter opposite, caring little for your pleasure and simply using you as a means to an end, but — with Kento, it’s so different. He centres you in everything. Sometimes it’s overwhelming, especially when he wants only for you to lay there and do nothing. It’s hard not to feel a bit lazy, like you have to offer something in return — he says you’ve already given him everything he wants, and it’s enough to make you scream. You suppose you have little to complain about, though, considering you’re regularly being fucked through the mattress.

When you gain enough lucidity to unscrew your eyes, he’s already watching you — like you knew he would be. Somewhere along the way Kento had migrated from on top of you to beside you; he propped himself above you on one elbow, cradling your head. If you were to only glance at him, you’d think him wholly unaffected by your whining, squirming self — but you allow yourself a stare, and are pleased to find the tips of his ears pink and flushed.

“I wanted to take my time,” says Kento, as if reading your mind. “But I’m too impatient when it comes to you.”

“I don’t mind,” you say — breathe — adding: “We have the whole day. You can fuck me slow later.”

It’s as if he was waiting for you to say it. Almost as soon as the words leave your mouth he’s pushing himself up, gently slipping his fingers out of you. You mourn their loss, but you know you won’t be untended for long. Sure enough, he pulls off the sweatpants and briefs that hang low at his hips, and settles himself between your legs once more. His cock is hot and heavy against you, pressed right between your lips, and you shiver as it’s nudged right against your swollen clit — but nothing more. Not yet.

Kento has endless patience — or so it may seem. His impatience, though rare, manifests itself only in his accidental roughness — as if he doesn't know his own strength. Your legs parted with strong hands, your body tugged further down the bed before you can even register the movement... Still, despite such impatience, he takes the time to rest the tips of his fingers against the shiny plushness of your bottom lip. He watches with sharpened eyes as your mouth opens and accepts them in, your tongue all too eager to lave over them, licking over the tanginess of your own juices. His voice is laboured — almost hoarse — when he breathes: “You’re vulgar.”

With a pop, his fingers are removed, glossy and wet and slimy. He wipes them on the blanket as you huff: “You put them there.”

His large hands grasp the back of your knees and push your legs up, until they hook high up on his waist and around him. “Because I knew you were vulgar enough to take them in your mouth.”

“Touché. But—”

Kento’s lips silence any half-baked argument that was about to leave you — this kiss is gentle, almost innocent. Somehow it’s enough to make your cheeks heat up more than any other racy gesture he’s shown you thus far. It’s made even worse when he reaches across your chest to intertwine your fingers — both hands housing a wedding ring.

(And it’s not surprising how romantic he is. Perhaps when you first started dating you were convinced that his blunt mannerisms and professionalism would extend to every facet of his life — and in many ways, it does. He’s the perfect gentleman in public, hands never straying too low, words rarely crossing the boundaries of polite-speak. But here, in your marriage bed, with more than a measly three hours of sleep and the sun casting shadows across your bodies, Kento is softened. Whatever exists outside your room that scares him so much no longer has any place in his mind.)

“I’m going to make love to you now,” he says. It’s just above a whisper, heated and heady against your lips. The gravel in his voice that had attracted you from the moment he’d opened his mouth is enough to make your knees turn to jelly — lucky, then, that they’re kept compacted by the barrel of his torso. “Is that okay?”

Your brain short circuits. Any smart comment or cheeky quip you could respond with is lost, and you’re left staring up at him, wide-eyed and willing. “Yes, please.”

His lips twitch upwards, the ghost of a smile, but he doesn’t attempt to tease — simply connects your lips again, and guides himself to your entrance with that free hand of his. The blunt head of his cock is silky smooth and slippery with your arousal, and barely catches on you before it presses in — the stretch dull and only slightly uncomfortable, but entirely familiar. It’s like stepping into a warm shower after a cold day — not just sexual, not just to scratch an itch or a means to an end — it’s this. Feeling the heat of him inside you; the way his breath catches in his throat as you squeeze around him. Knowing that you’re the only person in the world who has the privilege of having him like this.

It’s with a breathless sigh that he bottoms out inside you, hips flush against yours. On either side of your head, his arms bulge with the weight of his own body, muscles hardened and tensed — and as his hips begin to move, that neatly trimmed patch of hair around his cock grinding against his clit, you can’t help but reach out, anchoring yourself to them. There’s little else you can do except lay there and take it, shuddering all the while, mouth agape in wonder.

“Is this — okay?” Kento asks. His voice is strained, and you try to hide the smug smile it elicits in the bulk of his arm — there’s no point. He’s far too focused on staring at where he splits you open, anyways, watching how your lips split around him, crested by the sweet little pearl of your clit. And he calls you vulgar.

“Mhm. You can — you can go faster, if you want.”

A laugh. “If I want, hm?”

“Please, Kento,” you whine, humping up towards him. It’s embarrassing how much he makes you want him. It should be, at least, though you find you’ve gotten a little shameless as of late — shameless enough to press your feet hard against his ass, pulling him in deeper. “Don’t make me wait.”

Never let anyone proclaim he doesn’t treat you right, because at your request, he does just that. His pace quickens, pulling out to the tip and slamming all the way back in — the rhythm straightens out quickly, and that’ll be your downfall. If it isn’t enough that his hips grind down against your clit with every thrust, Kento (predictably) knows how to use his cock. The mushroom shaped head bullies against your g-spot in that dizzying rhythm — back, forth, back, forth, building you up until you’re gasping for air.

You wonder if it’s like this for everyone. You wonder if everyone in the world is lucky enough to find someone who fits them this perfectly, who listens to them this intently, who isn’t afraid to show such unerring devotion. You wonder if you will ever feel safer, more loved, than you do when you’re in his arms — if you will ever feel such deep, persistent pleasure at the hands of another. Then again, what good does wondering do? When you have all you need at your disposal, there’s little need for wondering. When you’re taken care of so thoroughly, there’s little need for anything else. And God, are you being taken care of.

“Oh — fuck, Ken, I’m—” Words escape you. All that matters is that building heat, the involuntary trembles of your walls around him, the electricity zipping from neuron to neuron; his eyes on you, the furrow of his brow, the comforting weight of him pressing you down. It’s all so much. You could lose your mind. You are losing your mind. “I’m—”

You can’t even finish the sentence. All you know is that your toes curl and your back arches and you squeeze his arms a little too hard but you can’t control it, you can’t control anything, not the way you’re squeezing him in a vice grip, not the way you’re dripping down around his cock, wet and sticky and messy—

“That’s it,” Kento urges, voice ragged as he fucks you through it. Through hazy eyes you see him — strands of hair hanging low over his face, his skin dewy with sweat. Ruined. “Good, that’s it. There you go — damn it—”

When he cums, he very nearly collapses on you, breathing heavily and sweat dripping from his brow. He presses himself to the hilt — of course he does, he can’t help himself — panting lowly as he thrusts with every wave of his orgasm. You can feel him against your cervix, that once-strange sensation of being filled.

In the midst of his pleasure, and fortified by his fatigue, his movements begin to slow. It’s that inevitable syrupy slowness that comes after an orgasm, where desperation is eventually traded for an easy languidness. His head bows to place a sloppy, messy kiss on your mouth, one he’d normally eschew, and you accept it with all the eagerness of a woman in love. One, two, three — another one to your cheek, then, and then to your brow.

That frantic, charged energy finally slips away. Kento holds you tightly to him — he always does, when all is said and done — but something about the way he’s hunched over you makes your stomach twist. You don’t know what is — some sixth sense, perhaps, that blooms into a sense of dread in your chest. The supernatural powers of a wife to know when there’s something wrong with her husband, and coupled with his demeanour the previous night...

“Kento,” you whisper, petting your hands over your head. “Is everything alright?”

“Mm.” A beat of silence, before he pushes himself up again, and — with some difficulty — pulls himself out of you. He kisses your forehead and sits himself up, sheets pooled around the hard lines of his abdomen. With worried eyes you watch as he reaches for his glasses, and then the wristwatch he’d left on the bedside table last night (almost 800,000 yen, one of the few things he’s splurged on himself) and deftly begins to clip it on. He's still avoiding your eyes when, at last, he says: “I… I was thinking of changing jobs.”

You shoot up — or sit up, rather, with what little energy you have left. “Hm? Oh, Kento, that’s wonderful!”

“Mm. It is.” But something’s bothering him. He doesn’t sound as elated as he should, considering he despises the job that he currently has. “It’s a smaller agency. An old… friend of mine runs it. The work is hard, but I won’t have to work much overtime, and… well, it’s better work, I suppose.”

You run a comforting hand over his covered thigh. “But?”

Kento exhales, slow and tired. “But I thought I left that work behind a long time ago.”

You shift, humming to yourself thoughtfully. “The work is hard, you say?”

He nods. “But… rewarding.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t know too much about finance, but I think that as long as it gives you purpose, it’s good, right?”

His head falls back against the headboard, and tired eyes trail over you. “It’s so simple for you.”

“Well, one of us has to simplify stuff, and I doubt it’ll be you. Look — you hate your job now, don’t you?”

“...Mm.”

“Then change it,” you say, rolling over on your side to face him. Your features soften at the sight of him — uncharacteristically unsure of himself, staring at his hands with furrowed brows. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so deeply torn, but then again, you know how hard he’s worked for this job. His career — especially before you met him — was of the utmost importance to him. Money, money, and more money. That’s what he’d told you. He was obsessive. He slept even less than he does now, barely used the fancy apartment he paid extortionate rent for... How do you turn your back on years and years of commitment, of obsession?

You reach a hand up and take his hand in yours once more. The silver of your rings glint and glimmer in the morning light, the garnet stone in the centre of yours a bloody red.

“For better or for worse, Kento,” you say quietly. “That’s what we promised. Whatever you choose to do, I’ll be here with you through it all.”

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles that one smile of his — the small, wistful, sad one. The one that hints at a far more tragic past than he’s let on, one of misfortune and melancholy. That’s okay. He doesn’t have to tell you, and you would never press him to. In much the same way, you pretend not to see the glassiness of his eyes when he raises your joined hands to his lips, and pretend not to hear the lump in his throat when he tells you he loves you — dearly, more than life itself.

"Yeah, yeah," you say, smiling. "Just don't forget about that retirement to Malaysia, okay? I want a beach house."

He huffs a laugh, and the cast of despondency shatters. Then, a thoughtful hum. "Mm. A beach house... that sounds good."

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento fic #anime x reader #smut x reader #i dont think we focus enough on how hard it was for nanami to return to jujutsu tee bee haytch #i want to hold his hand etc etc #cheeky little mention of malaysia of course couldnt help myself x #my fics

2K notes · View notes

gorejo · 9 months

Text

▸ BROKEN PIECES. — GETO SUGURU.

summary: spiraling in his intrusive thoughts, the chaos in his mind eating away at his sanity, you're there to catch him — to prove to him that he's worth the bet of saving... because he's always done that for you.

content: reverse comfort. very light angst. reader is mentioned as geto’s girlfriend. in a world where someone is there for suguru before he spirals )) : minimal cursing. emotional geto. this was more so for me when i wrote this, but sharing is caring ~

They say soul ties link two people. A bond beyond a dimension of reality, connecting them as one in emotion and spirit.

Maybe that’s why the phrase goes, soul ties are dangerous, so be careful who you give your soul.

It wasn’t long before you noticed these subtle changes. He swears he’s been mindful to not reveal this side to you.

But again, soul ties are dangerous — there are no secrets when you fall into the abyss together. At least one of you would be there to carry the other.

“You’re doing it again,” you softly muttered, putting down his morning coffee, the cup lightly clinking against the glass table, the sound radiating loudly in the quiet room. you gently run your finger against his forearm, hearing his slight hum of a thank you as you quietly take a seat next to him on the couch.

Confused as he looked up, about to answer knowingly, only to quickly replace his stoic face with a facade, “Doing what?” he chuckled — the one where his eyes would become like crescent moons, yet the shallow depth of his smile gave it away.

“You’re in your head right now, no?” You questioned, doing your best to look into his eyes — to connect, to be there with him, to let him know… that you were there to carry him through, to never let him fall — and even if he did, you’ll still be there to catch him.

Pushing his bangs out of his forehead, he spread out his legs to give a little stretch. “No, just spacing out baby,” he let out as he reached over to bring you closer to his side, “nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he nuzzled his nose to your cheek.

“it's probably because I wasn’t able to sleep too well through your snoring last night,” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

In truth, you would find Suguru oftentimes awake during the quiet hours of the day, when no one else was awake but him, lonesomely spacing out as he looked outside the window, his dark eyes empty and lost as if he searched for a greater purpose, or as if he was searching for a saving grace through it all.

You’ve noticed Suguru spending a bit longer in the shower, the bags under his eyes getting a bit darker. The once shine of his hair was now replaced with dull, tangled strands, and the gentle smile on his face — the one that made you fall in love with him — was muted now with a tired look as he forced himself to be who he wasn’t anymore.

And you knew, you can feel it without him having to explain, he hated it — he hated himself for it.

“I won’t push you, Suguru,” with tears starting to brim at your eyelids, doing your best to stay strong because it wasn’t your moment, “I just want you to know that I’ll always love you.”

And reaching over, as you searched for his eyes, asking for permission to touch him, only to lean in to give him a small kiss to his jaw when you see — no, feel — his body starting to relax, the tightness of his shoulder unraveling as you felt the pent up exhaustion in his mind starting to spill, “but let me in sometimes, let me carry you for a bit.”

Surely, soul ties are dangerous because everything hurt and it hurt you more to know that he carried this all alone till now.

“You can’t say that,” Geto abruptly stated with gritted teeth, refusing to look at your pleading gaze, “don’t say shit like that so easily, not when I’m like this.”

“And what’s wrong with who you are now?” You warmly confronted, your heart softening up to your boyfriend's vulnerability, “You’ve done it for me, no?”

That’s right, Geto’s been there — he’s been through it all with you and for you.

He’s been there in every season, like a silent pillar that you rested on whenever you needed love and security, and without speaking a word, without needing anything in return, he simply loved you through it all.

He was your saving grace.

“It’s not the same… I- I can do that for you,” His gaze slowly turned to you, lips trembling as his tired eyes were now honest and transparent, only for him to quickly avoid your gaze again like a guilty criminal, “You’re… you’re different from me.”

“How so?” You questioned, slowly prying him open as you softly pulled his chin to face you again, “You don’t trust me?”

Shaking his head in disagreement, “I do…” taking a moment to compose himself, “You’re worth saving,” Geto quietly confessed.

“Bingo,” you cheekily smiled, lightly pinching his sunken cheeks, “I am.”

“So just leave it alone —”

Interjecting him, lightly pushing the furrow of his brows with your finger, “You showed me that I am,” you admitted while combing through his hair while your other hand tried to loosen his tight grip.

“You showed it when you held me at my lowest, you proved it to me when I least believed that I was deserving of love. You countered all odds and healed me,” intertwining your fingers with his as the other cupped his face, “you were the one that carried me through my worst, taking my pain as yours.”

You felt him melt into your palm, the heat of your hand giving him a sense of security that he tried to cling onto for his last measure, “So let me show you that you’re worth it for me,” you confessed.

And before you saw the drop of his tear threatening to fall, Geto led you up onto his thighs, his head leaning back against the sofa, his neck resting against the edge with his dark locks falling as he closed his eyes with furrowed brows, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I’m fucking scared,” his grip on your thighs tightening as he stuffed down a sob.

Leaning your head against his chest to hear his beating heart, “What are you so scared of, Suguru? Tell me, what can scare the Geto Suguru, my strong, dependable, and pretty boyfriend?”

"Seeing your ugly cries that make me love you more," Suguru half-heartedly joked.

"what else?" you hummed.

"And when your snot gets all over my clothes," Geto continued with his chest vibrating with his soft voice.

"mhm, but you said I was still pretty though," you pouted.

"You are... you're so so pretty," confessing as his voice started to shake, "but I- I'm —"

Instead of continuing, Geto chose to stay quiet. And though his lips were unmoving, the rhythm of his breathing juxtaposed his silence as you felt his body lightly shake, but you continued.

"tell me, love. what are you feeling in here?" you whispered, pointing to his heart as you lightly kissed his chest, soaking in his unraveling.

Lowly groaning with his forearm around his eyes, the vein on the thickness of his neck highlighted as his Adam’s apple bobbed while swallowing his spit, “I’m so terrified that I’ve lost myself too much…” his soft lashes slightly coated with tears while his nose mildly flared, “too much to the point that I’ll lose you too,” Geto whispered — as if he was afraid it would become true if he said it any louder.

And with his confession, you moved his arm from his face, and seeing his eyes coated with tears, your boyfriend never looked more handsome. In his vulnerability, in his raw emotional state, a grace he’s never shown to many, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him even more.

“Even if you’re spacing out, even if you think it’s nothing,” caressing his face as you gently kissed his tired eyes, feeling a droplet and another of his tears fall against your cheeks, finding the courage to uplift his burdens even for a moment as you find his arms tightening around your waist, soaking in the comfort of your embrace.

“even if think you’ve lost yourself, I’ll always pick up all your broken pieces and piece them back together…” you promised.

And uncaring of the tears that started to spill from your heavy lids, vision blurry as you felt your pulse increasing, you let them fall to pool at his black cotton shirt.

“... I want to know what’s going on in this pretty head, Suguru” you confessed as you placed a tender kiss on his forehead, pushing away the strands of his hair as you gently combed through the tangles, “the messy, the dirty, the naughty, the whatnots that keep you up at night. my boyfriend’s too pretty to be hurting like this, you know? I won’t allow it.”

Using humor as his comfort, loosening up the tension as he welcomed you into his mess, “damn, I can't have you ugly cry now and ruin my shirt,” he chuckled, wiping your tears with a kiss.

And matching his forehead with yours, his voice softly trembling while his hands carefully moved to cup your face, his thumb grazing your lips as he reached in closer to seal his mildly chapped lips with yours — a connection pure and simple that would bring light into his darkened reality. His saving grace slowly chipping off the chains of his dysphoria, “I love you so fucking much, angel… ”

“... save me,” Geto confessed.

And in your arms, Geto Suguru breaks, finally letting down his shackles in the reign of your mercy.

#ae.writes #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #lightmode.

2K notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 7 months

Text

SnakeBite*

Summary: The third part to 404*

The one where Harry is good for more than a good time.

But he's still good at that, too.

Word Count: 5.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Oh, come on…please. Please, don’t do this. Not right now. Not today…please.”

With a deep breath, you stick the key back into the ignition and try again. Waiting anxiously for the sound of the engine roaring to life. A sound you desperately need to hear more than anything.

Instead, all that follows is that familiar clunking of something heavy before there’s a rather shrill buzzing you can’t quite place.

Fuck.

Exasperated and woefully defeated, you take the key back out, groan, and drop your forehead onto the steering wheel. “This is not happening.”

Truth be told, you should have seen this coming. This isn’t the first time your poor car has made this unsettling noise, and perhaps it’s your fault for ignoring it for so long. You hadn’t meant to; you just didn’t realize it was this bad. Or that your car was this old.

Now, you’re trapped in the Juno Incorporated parking lot on a Friday afternoon with no way of getting you or your car home.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

You don’t even bother to lift your head as Harry’s voice carries in through the window. “Nothing. Go away.”

You hear the sound of his boots scraping across the concrete before they stop, and you feel a large shadow fall over your side of the vehicle. “Can I assume that god awful noise came from this hunk of shit you call a car?”

Leaning back, you huff as you look over. “I’m sorry, do you want something?”

Harry smirks, arms crossing over his chest as he juts his chin toward you. “Pop the hood, let me see.”

“Yeah…no.”

“Come on,” he pushes, a few curls dancing across his forehead from a soft gust of wind. You realize he looks different outside of the lab. Normal, almost. It’s unsettling. “You wanna leave, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but knowing you, you’d probably cut my breaks.”

“If I were gonna take you out, I would have done it by now.”

“Oh. Wow. You’re really instilling me with a lot of confidence, thanks.”

He steps back and motions toward the front of your car. “Fucking relax, Tinkerbell, and just pop the goddamn hood.”

Regretfully, you do as instructed before leaning out the open window to watch him walk toward your engine. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I know enough,” he replies, using the back of his hand to push on his glasses before bending down.

“That…is not helpful.”

“Well, I’m your only shot. Everyone else is gone.”

“I can call a repair guy.”

He shakes his head once. “Won’t get here in time. It’s rush hour on a Friday. You’ll be here for hours if they even show at all. And chances are, they won’t be able to schedule you in till next week. So, unless you’re planning to sleep here, in your car, can you please shut the fuck up, and let me focus?”

You feel your expression morph into a scowl as you unclick your seatbelt and step out. “I’d rather sleep in my car than trust you to fix my engine.”

You notice his eyes roll, but he’s amused. “Well, I can’t fix it. Not here. I think it’s your spark plugs. They tend to wear out faster in older cars. You’ll probably have to get them replaced.”

Scurrying to stand beside him, you glance over your engine and the internal workings of the car with a heavy sigh.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble beneath another strained groan. “And let me guess, it’s gonna be expensive.”

“Probably,” he agrees, glancing over. “But it’s not like you can’t afford it.”

Your eyes narrow. “I know I can afford it, I just don’t like dropping thousands of dollars on something so dumb.”

“Spark plugs aren’t dumb,” he retorts while reaching for your hood to slam it shut. “You need them to fucking drive.”

“Yeah, but having to pay for a rental car, manual labor, and a tow truck is dumb,” you point out. “And this is the last thing I need right now.”

His eyebrow lifts but he doesn’t ask for elaboration. Instead, he begins to stride across the lot toward a dark, black Harley, leaving you and your crisis behind.

In turn, you reach for your cellphone to look up local tow trucks and mechanics that might be able to help you out.

To your dismay, most shops are already closed for the weekend, except for one. And after a very lengthy and frustrated discussion, you learn that they won’t be able to come by until much later tonight. Which means that all your hopes of having a nice, relaxing evening are for naught.

Once again defeated, you slump back against the side of your car and drop your head. “Well…great.”

Harry’s smirk returns as he glances over and straddles his bike. “What?”

“I’m stuck here until midnight,” you mumble, running a palm down the side of your cheek. “You were right, everyone is booked.”

“Shit,” is about all he offers while pulling his helmet over his head. “That sucks.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Welcome.” He revs the engine, and just like that, the bike roars to life. The loud and somewhat startling sound echoing across the parking lot as you flinch.. “So, what’s the plan, Princess? You gonna call an Uber and come back later?”

“I can’t,” you shout over the noise. “I have to be here in case they come early, or they’ll leave.”

Through the open visor, you see him frown. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

He studies you for a moment more, and you feel your skin grow warm under such a scrutinous gaze. Like he’s looking for something written between the lines of your face. “Well…make sure you lock your doors.”

“No shit.”

He smiles again before flipping the visor shut and steadying the bike with his leg. You stand back, ready to watch him speed out of the lot and onto the street, but to your surprise…he simply sits there.

In fact, a good sixty seconds pass before he suddenly slips the helmet off his head, sighs, and thrusts it toward you. “Get on.”

You blink. “What?”

“Get on the fucking bike, Tink,” he repeats. “I know a bar we can hang out in till they get here.”

“I…I just told you, I can’t leave—”

“You can see the parking lot from inside,” he interrupts. “If they show, we can just run back over.”

You step closer, drawn to his proposition, although still wildly confused. “Uh…okay. Why, though? I’m fine to just wait here.”

He looks at you, the grassy green behind his glasses somehow softer in this natural lighting. “S’not safe,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder up. “Be better to wait somewhere public, and I don’t really want your death on my conscience.”

And you aren’t exactly sure what to say. Because you think this may be the nicest thing he’s ever done for you – even if it’s still a little odd – and you don’t want to spook him by doing the wrong thing.

But as you debate a response, he shakes the helmet at you again, rather aggressively. “Tink, get on the goddamn bike, please. I’m wasting gas here.”

With a huff, you snatch it from his hand and join him on the Harley. The helmet slips on rather easily, and once you’re sure it’s snug and secure, your eyes trail down his back, unsure of how to proceed.

You don’t exactly want to…hold him. Or touch him or straddle him. At least, not outside of the way you do in secret. In broad daylight. Where people could see.

In fact, you already feel as though you’re grinding against his ass from how small this goddamn seat is. Almost too close for comfort as you catch a subtle trace of his cologne and feel the warmth from his body.

But motorcycles don’t exactly come with seatbelts, and if he were to take a sharp corner, you might end up pancaked on the cement.

“Tinkerbell,” you suddenly hear him call over his shoulder, voice raised to carry over the growl of the engine. “Just fucking grab me, it’s fine.”

You glare at his curls, despite knowing he can’t see you. “I’m good.”

He snorts again before he’s suddenly reaching back, grabbing onto your wrists, and hoisting your arms around his middle.

You’re tugged forward, your chest pressing to his spine rather forcefully as he glances back.

“Pussy,” he murmurs, releasing the clutch until the bike jolts forward and takes off through the parking lot.

With a rather shrill squeal, you tighten your hold on his broad frame, and bury yourself between his shoulder blades. The sensation is exhilarating and frightening all in the same moment. The rush of wind, adrenaline, and the way he leans around the corner before taking off down the street.

You think you feel his chest vibrate with laughter, perhaps from the way your nails are scraping down his shirt. And despite your increasing terror, you find that you feel oddly…safe with him at the handles.

Not even two minutes later, he’s pulling into another parking spot on the other side of the street, right in front of the aforementioned bar. It’s a bar you recognize, one that a few of your other coworkers often frequent from time to time.

In fact, this is the exact same bar you and Harry first hooked up in all those months ago.

The memory makes you smile.

“What?” Harry asks as swings his leg over the side and stands up. “Why are you grinning like that?”

You quickly wipe the smirk from your face while wrestling the helmet off to hand back. “Like what? I’m just smiling, calm down.”

“I don’t like when you smile. It freaks me out.”

“You’re really rude, you know that?”

“What? I’m just being honest. You have a lot of teeth. It’s weird.”

You glower at him, swatting his chest as you brush by. “Bite me, Harold.”

“With what? Your teeth?”

You feign a snubbed gasp – to which he chuckles – before striding into the bar, leaving him to follow behind.

The large room is loud and crowded with people, the smell of alcohol and bad decisions clinging to the air. You make a beeline for the counter, exhausted and overworked and already annoyed by Harry’s future comments before he can even make them.

Like—

“Really? An appletini?”

With a deep breath, you look over while the bartender turns around to begin prepping your drink. “Yes, really. I like apples. And it’s delicious. And the color is fun.”

He rests an arm on the edge of the marble bar and leans in. “How incredibly boring of you.”

Once again, your expression falls flat. “Are you gonna be this fucking annoying the whole time? Because I’d rather wait by my car and get murdered.”

“I make no promises.”

“Clearly. And let me guess, you’re gonna order something cool and manly like a scotch on the rocks.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks up before he smugly turns toward the bartender and calls, “I’ll have a SnakeBite.”

You can actually feel your eyes roll all the way into the back of your head. “God, you’re fucking pretentious.”

“Thank you,” he says with a smile, and you grit your teeth. “Will you relax? I haven’t even had a drink yet and you’re killing my buzz.”

“I’m not killing anything, I just can’t stand you.”

“No? Ouch. I thought we were friends.”

The sarcasm is evident, but you huff, nevertheless. “For the love of god, shut up.”

“What?” He nods his chin at you. “S’just a drink, don’t be so sensitive.”

“I’m sensitive because you’re annoying.”

“No, you’re sensitive because you’re wound up,” he retorts, eyeing you closely. It makes your skin crawl. “When’s the last time you got off, Tink?”

The inquiry makes you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his judgment. “None of your business.”

“So…couple weeks ago? In the closet, with me?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “That’s a long fucking time, Princess. No wonder you’re so uptight.”

Your mouth drops open, ready to scoff your resentment and perhaps a quippy remark before he suddenly steps forward and lowers his voice.

“Bet it’s achy, huh?” he coos, and the slight air condescension and sympathy makes your head spin. “Bet you hump your little pillow every night trying to get it done, yeah? But it never works, does it?”

Stunned and left without much remark, your lashes flutter.

He moves closer. “See, if we were friends…I’d offer to take you into the bathroom and help you out. But since you think you can do better…go ahead.”

He leans back while you gape at him. “I’m sorry…go ahead and do what?”

“Find someone,” he answers, glancing around the packed bar. “Take ‘em into the bathroom and let them bend you over the sink.”

“You can’t be serious—”

“Why not?” His eyebrow raises. “That’s the whole reason people come to bars. To get drunk and fuck.”

“Well…that’s not why I’m here.”

“It could be.”

“Harry…no—”

“Why? Seriously, why not? You need it.”

“I don’t…you’re so fucking rude, I don’t need to get off—”

“Coming is good for your health. And for your unfavorable attitude—”

“Oh, you are so fucking—”

“Rude? Annoying? Doesn’t make me any less right.”

You clamp your mouth shut and step closer, letting your gaze travel the expanse of his face. “Come on, Harry,” you murmur softly – salaciously – as his breath seems to catch. “Do you really think…you could watch me with some other guy?”

His expression twists, his mouth already forming around something else snappy and crude.

But it seems to get stuck on his tongue when you suddenly reach out and trail your fingers down his chest. Moving in until there’s only a single breath between you.

“Do you really think…you could watch me touch them?” you whisper, glancing down to your hand as it grazes over his pec. “Or know that they had me dripping down their cock…the way I always drip for you?”

He wants to fight you. Wants to snort and look away.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s mesmerized by the power you so easily stole from him. Undone by the sound of your voice taunting him with an idea he can’t seem to stomach.

“Wanna know I’m whimpering their name the way I always whimper yours?” you continue, smoothing your other palm up the back of his neck. Squeezing just hard enough to make him straighten up. “Wanna see the marks on my throat from where they held me—”

“Easy,” he warns lowly, reaching up to snatch your wrist. But he doesn’t move you. “Not here—”

“Why?” You push up onto your tiptoes and let your lips ghost over his. “Who’s gonna see, hm? Who’s gonna care?”

His lashes flutter, eyes traveling down to your mouth. “Are you this desperate for it, Princess? Wanna fuck me right here in the middle of the bar? Make them watch?”

You smile, head tilting until the tip of your nose dances across his cheek. “Maybe,” you nearly purr. “Bet you like to be watched. You always like watching me.”

And maybe he knows you’re merely playing a game. Teasing him just to throw him off track and test his patience.

But he plays along, eager to see where it might lead. “Can’t help it,” he replies calmly, smirking himself. “Y’just always look so pretty when you’re three fingers deep in your cunt.”

“Yeah?” Your nails scratch at the soft curls near the nape of his neck. “Funny how I can make myself squirt better than you can.”

He exhales a rather sadistic chuckle while his arm reaches to loop around your waist, pulling your chest flush with his. “I wasn’t trying to make you squirt.”

“No?”

His head shakes once. “No. Trust me, Tink. If I wanted to…I would.”

“Then maybe you should.”

His lips part just enough to tease you with a taste. “Maybe I will.”

“Yeah? Right here? In front of everybody?”

Another grin. “I could. Be so fucking easy, too. Bend you over the bar, pull your soaked little panties down…spread you open so they can see how much of a dirty little cumslut you are.”

And perhaps this started as a ruse, but just the thought and the tantalizing way he speaks breeds a new inspiration.

“Cause you are, aren’t you?” he asks quietly, large hand pressing hard against your spine. “My dirty, fucking Princess? Get all wet and weepy from just a couple words?”

You swallow a whimper trying desperately to come free.

“Should I check?” he whispers, now subtly moving you over until your back meets the counter. “Hm? See if you’re as wound up as I think you are?”

You rifle through your list of responses but find that you have none to offer as his fingers delicately begin to trace the edge of your jeans. Provoking you further.

You reckon you should probably stop him. Point out what an idiotic idea this is and remind him that he’s still very much in public, surrounded by people.

But his body blocks you from most of the crowd, and nobody else is close enough to notice. And you suppose that even if they did look over, they wouldn’t exactly be able to see or understand.

His eyes flick to yours, looking for hesitation. But when he finds none, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a pleased smile.

“Dirty Princess,” he teases, sliding his hand into your pants as subtly as he can while you quickly glance around for prying eyes. “That’s right, Tink. Look at them.”

The feel of his cold fingers against your warm skin is like ecstasy, sending a rush of adrenaline straight down to your toes.

You gasp quietly to mask a whine, vision going hazy as you watch him study you.

“Oh, sweetie,” he tsks, smoothing his touch through your folds. Spreading and stroking as you reel. “Poor fucking thing. Did’ya get yourself all wet for me?”

“No,” you manage to reply, heart hammering against your rib cage when he smirks. “I was watching TikTok’s of Andrew Garfield earlier. This is for him.”

“Ah,” he hums, but he’s wildly amused, hand still cupping you gently before he swiftly pulls out and leaves you to wilt. “Well, in that case…”

He steps away, fingers tucked between his lips as he pretends to turn around.

However, before he can get far, you manage to capture a fistful of his shirt and yank him back to you.

And you kiss him. Without reluctance or fear. You kiss him, and you sigh against his mouth, and swallow his surprised but greedy moan.

His hands are on your hips, squeezing and pulling, desperate to tug you further into his frame.

You go willingly, becoming pliable in his hands. A few people cheer from beside you, raising their glasses and whistling like drunken animals.

But it makes you both smile, suddenly unencumbered by the ideas of what people might think or who might see.

And it’s strange to feel so at peace in his arms. Unnatural almost to find relief in his lips or safety in his presence. Because this is still the same Harry that would let you drown before he jumped in after you. That would rather tell you off than tell you he likes you – even as an acquaintance.

You’re not enemies, per se. You imagine you’re both too old for such childish rivalries. But he’s cruel and rude and blunt. His ego rivals the size of the moon, and his lack of care and inhibitions is proof that he could never be who you’d need him to be.

But that’s okay, you realize. You find serenity in the sadistic, strange behavior. Because it means you don’t have to commit to giving him anything more than what he deserves.

His tongue leaves a quick lick to yours before he pulls back and studies you from behind the dark frames of his glasses. “I need to fuck you.”

And you almost laugh at the frank way he speaks. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” His palm slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing it one, twice, three times. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

“Ew, no. I’m not fucking you in a crusty ass bathroom in a sketchy bar,” you retaliate with a scrunch of your nose. “Pick somewhere else.”

“There isn’t anywhere else,” he huffs. “Unless you really do want me to fuck right here in front of everybody.”

“That’s not funny.”

“M’not trying to be funny. I’m trying to fuck you.”

“Well…try harder.”

His eyes narrow. “Fine, you wanna fuck me on my bike?”

You blink. “Okay, that’s really not funny.”

“What?” He’s grinning again, and you hate the way his dimples pop out. Hate how charming they make him look. “Come on, I ride the bike, you ride me.”

You snort as you turn around to take a sip of your drink. “I’d rather get herpes.”

“Wow. Classy. Real fucking classy—”

“Admit it, you’ve had it before—”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“Well, you can’t. Remember?”

He scoffs. “Then where the fuck do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Literally anywhere else?”

“Well, I’m not taking you back to mine.”

“No? You don’t want me to see the bridge you live under?”

“Troll jokes. Funny.”

“Thank you, I thought so. It’s very fitting.”

His expression falls flat before he sighs and steps closer again. “Meet me in the fucking bathroom,” he repeats quietly, “and let me fuck you. Let me make it better.”

You want to remind him – again – that a dirty bathroom in a crowded bar isn’t exactly the best place. You’d never get a moment of privacy, and the position would most likely be wildly uncomfortable.

But suddenly, none of your reasons seem to matter. Because it hurts to be away from him. Actually aches between your thighs, forcing you to swallow thickly.

So, instead of responding with an actual answer, you simply take his hand, and drag him through the crowd.

You catch his smug smile – and resist the urge to slap the glasses off his face – before yanking him into the hall and toward the bathroom.

You both stumble through the door, already back on each other’s lips. Kissing, and groping, and groaning as you work to get the lock flipped.

You pause for only a moment to make sure the single stall restroom is in fact empty while Harry uses this as encouragement to begin nipping down the side of your neck.

Your nails scratch down his scalp and he moans against the heat of your skin, exhaling his relief and lust all in the same breath.

His touch is firm – pointed and almost painful – as he pushes you back toward the wall. You gasp when you meet the cold, hard cement, lashes fluttering from the force and the sound of his belt coming undone.

He nods his chin at you, entertained by your fascination. “Come on, Princess. You’ve seen my cock before.”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you murmur, swallowing thickly when he pulls himself out. “Before I change my mind and find somebody else."

He scoffs with a smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

He gives himself a few pumps, growing harder in his palm before he lets go and moves his attention to your jeans. He’s got them down your legs and pooled around your ankles in under thirty seconds flat, your panties soon following suit.

But he teases you for just a moment. Because of course he does, the sadistic fucker. Needing to hear you beg for him before he actually gives you what you both want.

“Harry,” you huff, glancing down as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “We don’t have time, and the floor is dirty. Just do it.”

“Just do it? How romantic,” he snorts before obliging and straightening back up. “Thought girls liked foreplay.”

“We do, but not in gross, dirty bathrooms.”

“Fine. Next time.”

And for some reason, the casual way he refers to the future makes your head spin. You always assume the two of you will continue from time to time. But hearing him promise to take care of you again…

It’s almost…nice?

Pushing the thought aside, you begin to turn around, hands pressing into the wall to brace yourself in preparation for what comes next.

But just as you’re getting comfortable, he suddenly grabs onto your hips, and spins you forward once again.

“No,” he murmurs softly, pretty green eyes trailing down your face. “No, I wanna see you this time.”

“Oh,” you whisper, skin growing hot as he steps between your legs. “Okay…?”

He grins lightly before reaching up to trail his thumb along your bottom lip. “I like watching you get all sappy when I fuck you. The way you grin when it feels good.”

Suddenly, your pulse starts to stagger. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like your smile.”

You suck in quiet breath. “I thought it creeped you out. That I had too many teeth.”

He chuckles to himself before taking hold of his cock and bringing it closer, trailing it between your legs. “You do. But that’s what makes you so beautiful.”

You think he must be out of his mind. Lost on the idea of sex and pleasure and SnakeBite’s. Tipsy and not all there. Because the Harry you know would never say something like that to you.

But you suppose you don’t really know Harry at all.

With that final thought, he hoists your leg over his hip, and begins to push in. It’s slow at first. You’re tense from the surroundings, from the loud sounds of the bar just on the other side of the wall, and from his admission.

But he loves it, cursing through gritted teeth before surging forward to kiss you. “Tink, you gotta fucking relax. Y’know I can’t do it if you don’t let me in.”

“Try…trying,” you pant, head falling back against the wall with a thud. “Sorry. Just go.”

He frowns, eyes rolling as his glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose. “M’not gonna go if you’re not stretched, Princess. I’m not trying to hurt you—”

“I don’t care,” you argue with a soft whine. “Really, I don’t care. Just go. Make it hurt.”

He releases your leg to slip his fingers just below your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. “Stop. M’not gonna do that, just relax.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your mouth. “Come on, sweetie. Know you can do it. Know you always take me so well, don’t you?”

You nod fervently. “Yes…yeah, yes—”

“Then take me,” he whispers, his free fingers finding your clit. He rubs, and presses, and pinches until he feels you begin to unwind. “There you go…there she is, that’s my girl. S’better, isn’t it? Yeah? Gonna let me in now?”

You can’t exactly speak, already lost in the pleasure and the fullness his thick cock provides as it pushes past your walls and settles nearly in your belly.

The sound you make is depraved and eager, and it makes him smile. “That good, huh? So fucking cute how cockdrunk you get.”

“Shut…up,” you huff before reaching for his hair. “Faster.”

“Faster,” he repeats to himself, hips pulling back just to snap forward. “Always want it fast, don’t you? Never want me to take my time.”

“Cause I don’t want your dick in me longer than it needs to be,” you retort, but you both know that’s not true. “Fucking hurry—”

With a sharp and sudden thrust, he changes the pace. Obeying your command for fast and hard as your bodies shake with pleasure and force.

And you imagine it should feel quite strange to be so enamored by one man – one cock. But here you are, panting, and gasping, and whimpering as he fucks you against this bathroom wall. Ignoring the pounding of the fists against the door from people wanting to be let in.

He kisses you. Kisses all of you. Your lips, your cheek, your chin, your nose, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Tugs on your skin with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the tortured flesh.

His hand dances underneath your shirt. Palm smoothing up your stomach and over the cup of your bra. Slipping just far enough inside to knead you in his grasp. Make you whimper and push closer.

And he’s so warm. All of him is warm and soft and strong. He smells like mahogany and sex, and he feels like ecstasy.

You love his hands. The veins in his arms, the bulge of his muscles. The tan of his skin and the way he holds you.

He might be infuriating, but my god is he fun to look at.

“Fucking shit,” he snaps, readjusting his angle to make sure he’s fucking into you just right. “So fucking good, Tink. You’re shaking, sweetie. You close already?”

You can’t respond with words, instead clenching around him in an effort to prove his point.

He smirks, quickly reaching up to push his glasses back into place. “Good. Want you to come all over my cock, baby. Want you to soak me. Can y’do that for me, Princess? Can you soak my cock?”

You think you know what he means, but truth be told, you aren’t sure if you can. You’ve only done it twice before – by your own hand, not his – and you wonder if you’d even be able to like this.

But the question is answered for you when he moves just enough to find that sweet, spongy spot that unravels you faster than lightning.

He hits it over and over and over – perhaps without even realizing – and when you suddenly begin to cry out his name…he understands.

He watches as it happens, aiding in your pleasure by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to your clit.

The ministrations are ruthless and beautiful, and it almost distracts you from the gushing between your legs, and the way you soak his thighs.

“Shit,” you think you hear him groan, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “So fucking good, Tink. Yeah, just like that. That’s good, baby, keep going. Give me all of it. Fucking all of it, sweetie, yeah.”

And just before you can go sliding down the wall out of pure exhaustion…he follows. Pressing his chest into yours to keep you upright as he spills inside your pussy, creating a bigger mess than before.

Everything is wet and sticky and warm. He’s breathing into your neck, holding onto your body so tight, you imagine you’ll see memories of him tomorrow.

And you stay, just for a moment. Learning how to take in air again and waiting for the feeling to return to your muscles.

“You okay?” he finally asks, exhaling the question into the sweaty skin of your throat. “Didn’t break you, did I?”

Your smile is lazy as you shake your head. “It would take a lot more than you to break me.”

And he laughs. In the kind of way that makes you clench around him again.

Which only makes him laugh harder.

“I fucking hope so.”

Next Part:

~ Jealous*

Previous Part:

~ Off the Shelf*

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @daphnesutton

1K notes · View notes

etherealinowrites · 9 months

Note

can you please please please please write perv best friend minho manipulating you into sleeping with him? like you’re his cute bestie and he just has to have you or he’ll be very sad and you can’t see him sad so you’ll do anything to make him happy

i love this ask so much, i stepped outta class to answer this too <3

perv bestf minho x female reader.

smut. cnc, use of pet names and nicknames like baby angel etc. roleplay, swearing, kissing, minho is a sneaky manipulative bitch (not really it’s all pre agreed and approved and mutually consented)

minors dni

part 2

your best friend minho was obsessed with you. of course he was, had you seen yourself? you were the epitome of a gorgeous person. a literal goddess in his eyes. it didn’t help that you were extremely inexperienced, so cute and innocent when it came to anything sexual. it made him absolutely feral, seeing your doe eyes when anything sexual came up, how your cheeks would turn red because you had no experience whatsoever. he was obsessed with every minute of it. and every once of you.

it didn’t help that you were extremely careless with minho, walking around braless, pants less and what not less. he was your best of 15 years after all, you didn’t think you had anything to hide. but what you didn’t know was just how badly minho was affected by it all. seeing your breasts move under your hair, the outline of your nipples, it made him insane, being able to see it all up close but being unable to do anything.

minho couldn’t count the number of times he’d gotten off to your dirty laundry, to the pictures he’d drawn of you, to the expressions you made when you both watched movies together. oh of course he had to jerk himself off under the blanket you both shared as you watched the movie on your fridays off.

and this friday was no different, you both sat on the couch, an old romcom playing on the tv as you ate some popcorn from the tub next to you on the couch. you’d forgone a bra again, wearing a flimsy tank with some tiny shorts which practically did nothing, on your body, but did a whole lot to minho, who was doing everything he could to hold himself back from grabbing a handful of your perfect ass and squeezing it.

“i’m so cold” you whined and snuggled into his side, his bicep brushing against your breast and he teased up. while your eyes were trained on the tv, he shamelessly but sneakily checked your breasts out, oh those round tits, fuck, teasing him like a slut. he thought. he couldn’t take it anymore and placed his hand on your thigh, startling you a little. “min?” you mumbled and he sighed. “shhh angel, min just wants to cuddle you” he cooed and you instantly relaxed, it was minho after all.

his hand slowly snaked up, now fully stroking your thigh and getting a good feel of anything he wanted. “um” you mouthed out when his hands brushed your panties, making you shiver. “what-“ you began but he placed a finger to your lips, “minho needs to cuddle you angel, won’t you let him?” he said with a pout, hiding the smirk at your blush.

your heart broke at that, how could you possibly say no to your minho? so you nodded and spread your legs, letting him touch what he wanted and in between, he picked you up into his lap, touching your cunt over your panties carefully and starting to place small kisses on your neck. “minho- that’s a little-“ you whined, closing your eyes at the pleasure you felt and he couldn’t help but smirk, pinching your clit gently.

“but baby, don’t you want minho to cuddle you, touch you and be happy? that’s what best friends do angel, they make their friends happy, and do whatever is needed to do that” he cooed into your ear, licking it sensually ask you almost whimpered at that. “do you want min to be sad mm? don’t you want your best friend to be happy?” he pouted and said this in a gentle whine, knowing full well what it did to you.

this has you shaking your head quickly, this was your best friend minho, he needed to be happy right? whatever was needed from you, you would do it. “okay min, touch me please? be happy?” you mewled and minho smirked, pushing his hands inside your panties. “now that’s my good angel”

—

[compiled list of hard thoughts]

part 2

2K notes · View notes

xazse · 3 months

Note

scara would be such an asshole to bunny!reader (or hybrid!reader in general) lol, constantly pulling your ears and pulling your tail..

can I request scara teasing bunnt reader and then he starts to feel a little bad when he notices his bunny is all sad and sulking!

How can he not feel bad when he hears your sobbing in the middle of the night?:( He'd probably fxck you dumb and fill you as a sorry <3

SCARAMOUCHE X BUNNYGIRL!READER

Notes: you guys are killing me so good 😭, btw if you do want more scara stuff leave me some prompts like the first anon did, I’m kinda running short on ideas. And I decided to combine two asks

Pairings: Scaramouche x Bunnygirl!Reader

Tags: Hybrid!Reader, Crying, Squirting, Mean!Scaramouche, Biting, NOT PROOFREAD (lol none of my works are)

Oh he’s such a bastard some days, when he thinks you’ve been a little too annoying some days he’ll simply tap your nose, he knows how sensitive the damn thing is, it’s the only thing that’ll get you to give him some time to hear his own thoughts, it doesn’t last long before you’re giving him feather light kisses all over his face.

A day where he’s relaxing in his office, all his work finished you come prancing in yipping for his attention again… for the third time today. He’s sitting in his chair when you come wrap your arms around his neck and sit down on his lap. Scaramouche really isn’t in the mood

to entertain you, so he gently pushes you off.

“Not right now..” Scaramouche scolds, he can’t see the hurt in your eye but you make no move to leave the room, you’ve been with him for a while but still aren’t used to blunt attitude.

The rest of the week is spent him pushing you away, turning you away, barely engaging with you, it hurts you so badly, you want to be able to talk about your day with him, cuddle and kiss him but he just isn’t going for it.

Your breaking point is when you were both in bed, you were half asleep and attempted to move on top of him just for the extra comfort, it was fine the first few seconds, your long fluffy ears relaxing before he once again brushed you off of him, insisting it was way to hot for you to be ontop of him.

That really was it, you started to sleep in the living room, giving scara the excuse that it was too stuffy in the bedroom right now, he didn’t even double check to see if that was the real reason. Later that night he’s awoken by soft sobbing, he’s been waiting so patiently for this, for you to break down already. He knows it’s a terrible thing to do, make his own girl cry just for the sake of pleasure, he can admit it was a little hard but nonetheless his pants tighten at the sound of your sniffles.

He treads soundlessly to the living room where you’re under the cover, on your stomach. your sobbing becoming more apparent. You haven’t noticed his presence yet, not until you jump from feeling a hand rubbing your cunt back and forth, only the thin layers of your panties keeping him from directly touching you. A small whine leaves your throat in-between your sniffling, and it’s so fucking hot, he doesn’t stop the motion of his hands before he’s palming his heavy cock beneath his hand.

His eyes are half lidded looking at your twitching tail, the small thing visible even under the cover. You don’t make a move to look at him either, simply content with just the pleasure he’s giving you. He removes the cover off your form he can’t see your face due to it being buried into a pillow, you won’t allow him to see your ruined face, won’t allow him to see the progress.

That just spurs him on further, his breathing’s increased a tenthfold. He grips your hips and lifts them up, but he lets you continue to sulk in the pillow, a nice arch being showcased to him. He doesn’t want to rush into fucking you, he wants you a little dumb and numb.

He pulls his underwear down a little, letting only his cock free, his balls heavy with need looking at your clothed cunt. He grabs ahold of your hips again and pulls you right against him: agaisnt his cock, he starts slow when he rubs himself against your pussy, groans are already leaving his throat in short pauses. He’s guiding your hips up and down.

You looked so cute, the ultimate submission from your part has his hips speeding up, he’ll worry about apologizing later, right now he needs to be balls deep inside of you.

He quickly pulls your panties down, exposing your pussy to the cool night draft. His sweet bunny is oh so wet from the grinding: it makes the situation much easier. He jerks himself off a few times before lining up with your hole and pushing himself In all the way.

A sharp whine leaves your lips, it doesn’t even take another second before your clenching down on him, he doesn’t give you time, already giving you fast deep strokes, so deep he has to use a little bit of strength to hold your torso down. The way his cock drags along your walls is so good, so dizzying, he positions himself to press his stomach on your back, getting close to your head right in your ear.

“So good, you feel so good..” the way his voice shivers makes you feel a tad bit better but that doesn’t excuse the hurt, your tears have dried up, your sobs have stopped but the constant sniffling remains.

He continues to fuck you hard, whilst still whispering obscenities into your ear, he leans up just a little, seeing your ears twitch a sudden desire fills him, a mean one at that: he bites the fluff of your ear down hard. Your eyes flutter shut hard and you cry out in pain, he feels your pussy contract around him, and a liquid coating his cock, he feels his body flare up , he’s hammering into you even harder than before while you cry and babble out his name repeatedly, it’s the first time he’s made you ever squirt but it’s still an achievement, he didn’t even know your ears were just that sensitive.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #zsworks #fem reader #hybrid reader #wanderer smut #wanderer x female reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x female reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x you #dom scaramouche #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi x reader #reader x scaramouche

751 notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 4 months

Text

No Need To Ask

Chapter Fourteen - His Pretty, Little Wife

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

The next chapter is going to be the midway point, basically. We've still got so much more plot to come and I really don't know how long this story is going to be, it's already 25.5K long all together

1.8K words

Series Masterlist

Marie. The cook that Carlos fucked was called Marie.

It was easy for Y/N to find her; she didn’t think she would ever forget that face. When she walked down into the kitchens, Marie’s face went pale. She let out an alarmed squeak and went to hide behind another one of the cooks.

From the way Y/N was dressed, she didn’t blame Marie for hiding away. She was meant to be powerful and imposing, mirroring the aura her husband gave off. The long, black dress with the slit up the side of the skirt, and heeled boots. It was gorgeous, making Y/N look ever the part of the powerful mafia wife her mother once was.

“Relax, Marie,” Y/N said as she leaned against the worktop, staring at her.

The employee she was hiding behind cleared his throat and stepped out of the way, leaving Marie at Y/N’s mercy.

She gulped as she looked at the lady of the house. “Please, mi señora, no quise hacer daño,” she cried. She fell to her knees, clasping her hands together, tears springing to her eyes.

Y/N sucked in a breath. Her Spanish lessons had been going well enough that she could pick up a couple of words and peace together the sentence. Please, my lady, Marie had said, I meant no harm. She took a moment to formulate a response.

It may have made her appear weak, but Y/N didn’t care. “Marie, esta bien,” She said, unfolding her arms. (Marie, it is okay). “Tengo una propuesta para ti.” But this was where she stopped being able to speak to Marie in her native tongue.

She sucked in a deep breath. “Your sleeping with my husband is not something I blame you for, okay? If it had been me sleeping with another man, my husband would have had him killed.” Marie let out a cry. “But I don’t want to have you killed. I will not have you killed. What I want to do is to set you up, with enough money that you won’t need to work,” she said.

“Mi señora,” said Marie as she fell to her knees, gasping sobs leaving her lips.

“I’ll give you the money, enough to set you up for life, as long as you leave wordlessly and tell nobody where you’re going.”

Gulping, Marie nodded her head. She’d do as her lady asked, from fear she’d lose her life.

Carlos’s money was now Y/N’s money, too. She could do what she wanted with it, and what she wanted to do was set Marie up somewhere nice.

She took the money and found Marie somewhere to live. It was on the very edge of the Sainz territory, somewhere they’d never think to look. She gave Marie the money and helped her to escape in the dead of night.

Marie would never admit it, but she was grateful to señora Sainz, for helping her get away from this life of crime. It was no little girls dream to serve the biggest crime family in Spain, but, once you got in, there was no way out. Y/N was offering her a helping hand, and Marie jumped to take it.

Y/N made her way to Carlos’s office. She pushed past the men guarding the door, who no longer bothered to stop her, and took her seat at Carlos’s desk. In his chair, with his feet up on the top of the desk.

It was a risk, sitting in his seat, but it was a risk Y/N was willing to take. There was no telling how he would react when he came back in from the garden, to see her sitting in his seat.

But Y/N didn’t have to wait for very long. Carlos came back in from the garden, not paying much attention as he strode across his office.

But then he spied her, sitting at his desk. A smirk crossed his face. “Hello, my pretty, little wife,” he said, sitting in one of the seats on the other side of the desk. He leaned back as he stared at her. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Have you seen Marie recently?” Asked Y/N as she looked at him over the top of her boots.

Carlos let the smile drop from his face. “No, Y/N, I haven’t,” he answered.

“I wonder why that could be.”

It took Carlos a moment to realise what she meant. They’d played that game of chess nearly a week ago, the dots were hard to connect. But, once he got it, Carlos let that same smirk cross his face once ago. “Oh Dios mío,” he said with a shake of his head. “My pretty little wife had somebody killed. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Carlos liked it. For some unexplainable reason, Carlos liked it. He liked the fact that she had somebody killed. This wasn’t what Y/N expected. She didn’t really know what to do now. But she didn’t shift, didn’t move. She kept her gaze on Carlos, feet on the table. “You said you’d kill any man I slept with, so I thought I’d return the favour.”

“Did you know Marie had a family?” Carlos asked as he leaned back. “Her husband died, bless her, but she had two little boys. Mateo and Diego. I wonder what they will do without their mother. Well, I wonder how long they’ll last without her.”

As he said it, Carlos watched for Y/N’s reaction, and Y/N knew that. But it was hard to know how to react. Marie had already told her about Diego and Mateo, and Y/N had given her enough for the whole family to get away. But Carlos didn’t know that. He was expecting her to be distraught.

But that was what the old Y/N would have done, what the weak Y/N would have done.

She found the balance, picking at her nails as she said, “I didn’t know that,” she mumbled, no longer meeting his gaze.

Carlos smirked as he stood from his seat and straightened out his suit jacket. “No matter, mi amor, it is no concern of ours.” He pulled Y/N’s chair back, making her legs fall from the desk. Carlos kissed the top of her head and stood her up from the chair, taking her place. “You can stay with me, querida, sit on my lap while I have meetings,” he said, wearing a devilish grin.

Y/N quickly shook her head and rushed out of the office. What Carlos had just offered, all because he thought she had somebody killed, was that a step in the right direction? Was that evidence that Carlos was going to start respecting her? Only time would tell.

***

This was one of those rare instances where Carlos’s family didn’t join them for dinner. Family dinners was something Sainz was very passionate about, and he’d insisted they’d all meet at Carlos’s house while Y/N was settling in. But this was the last week where Carlos would host the dinner and soon they’d be returning to dinners at Sainz’s.

But tonight, there was no family dinner. Carlos still insisted he and Y/N ate together, though.

After her Spanish lesson, one of Carlos’s men came to get her. They’d begun to speak to her in Spanish, and Y/N had to try her best to understand them. If she couldn’t understand them, they’d try again in English, something she was grateful for.

Y/N stood from the table. “Gracias señora,” she said to her Spanish tutor and walked out of the library.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked out to the patio. She stood in front of the pool for just a second, looking at the reflection of the clouds in the sky. Every morning Carlos went for his daily swim, and Y/N would have been lying if she said she didn’t watch him.

She looked towards the table, where the kitchen staff were laying the food out on the table. It was a lot for two people, far too much. There was no sign of Maria as they laid the table.

No sign of her husband either.

But then Y/N looked towards the other side of the garden, towards the fire pit. It wasn’t lit, but Carlos was sat there, cigarette between his lips.

She strode towards him, walking across the patio, towards her husband. He looked up at his, dark eyes following her as she approached. “I didn’t know you smoked,” she said as she came to stand in front of him.

Carlos released the smoke from his lungs and looked up at his wife. He wrapped his arm around her place, pulling her close. “Does my pretty little wife not like it when I smoke?” He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. His face was level with her stomach, so close to…

Y/N shook her thoughts away. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, ever step calculating. “Oh no, Carlos,” she said, slowly getting closer to him. “I couldn’t care less,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Standing up straight she walked away from him, hips swaying from side to side as she walked around the pool, making her way to the table.

She looked towards the golf course. Since she’d married Carlos, she hadn’t seen the golf course be used once. It was a favourite pastime of her brothers, back when he was allowed to have pastimes. If they were a normal couple, if they had married for love, Y/N was sure she would have gotten him to teach her some golf while she taught him how to play the perfect game of chess. But, instead, Y/N was left longing for that life, for the husband who would teach her golf and swim with her in the pool, who would stop smoking because she asked and hold her close as they sat around the fire pit.

Her eyes moved towards Carlos, watching as he finished the cigarette. She didn’t know when he had started calling her his pretty, little wife. But she wasn’t complaining. It made her knees weak, hearing those words leave his pretty lips.

Y/N watched as he stubbed out his cigarette and walked around the pool, sitting himself at the table opposite her. He wore that same amused smile as he began putting things on Y/N’s plate. Fuck, she wanted him. She wanted him so bad.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa23 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal

572 notes · View notes

seonghwaddict · 2 months

Text

ateez’s favourite positions — masterlist

requested by anon. genre. hc, smut rating. mature. warnings. sexual content mdni, various sex positions, nicknames n stuff. wc. 768.

[ lilo’s notes . . . ] thank you for requesting~ i had to do research for this and like… why are there so many names for the same positions??? and some of these are such weird obscure names i genuinely stared at my screen so blankly cuz who came up with these- not only that but some of the positions i saw looked SO UNCOMFORTABLE??? anyways, moving on and if you aren’t familiar with these position… i suggest looking them up because i will NOTTTTT be providing any links 😁

hongjoong

face sitting. when he says sit on his face he means sit on it. he likes how his mouths drives you wild and how you have to stop yourself from just grinding on his face—he’d lift you for like two seconds to encourage you to do just that. and you see that couch in his studio? yeah i’m not gonna elaborate.

“baby, sit.”

seonghwa

missionary. when he’s not torturing you with his tongue, he likes to fuck you deep and slow. missionary may sound very plain, but occasionally he’ll throw in a blindfold or some restraints. almost if the time, though, he wants it to be just you and him. he likes this position so he can see your face clearly, watching the way you unravel with each frustratingly slow grind of his hips.

“hm, look at you… so pretty and all for me.”

yunho

backseat driver. he’s not very picky about positions, but he does like having you in his lap while he’s gaming. whether it’s him ending a game badly and needing relief right there or you wanting to tease and distract him, he will always revel in the subtle arch of your back and bounce of your tits, having to keep both you and himself quiet when he’s on a call and playing with his friends.

“keep it down, yeah? we don’t want everyone to hear you like this, now do we?”

yeosang

leap frog. he’s an ass guy idc what ANYONE says. if you’re telling me he won’t stare at the way your ass bounces against pelvis, you’re dead wrong. he likes to reach over and give your clit some attention too. yeosang also leans down to kiss your back sweetly while also fucking you like his life depends on it. guys i am DEEP in yeosang brain rot rn if i continue i fear i won’t be able to stop.

“get your face out of that pillow, pretty girl. let me hear you.”

san

spooning. i think that, yes, occasionally he’d like to be rough, but i will NEVER back down from my soft dom!san agenda. in this position, he’s able to hold you and keep you warm and make you feel good all over. the technicalities(?) of spooning you feels good for the two of you—your thighs pressed together making your walls hug him tighter. this is also a good position for him to gently fuck you to sleep at the end of the day. also: comforting kisses all over your shoulders and the back of your neck… he just wants to make you feel nice and comfortable and keep you safe in his arms :(

“just relax, baby… you know i’ll take care of you.”

mingi

tabletop. if no one’s around, he’ll risk taking you right on the kitchen counter. if that’s not possible, he’ll lick the bedroom door and sweep any items off his desk and take you there. there’s something about seeing you say somewhere and being the one standing between your legs and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out you that makes his insides feel all hot and tingly. this also give the two of you good access to kiss each other all over your torsos.

“i’ve got you, doll, just give me one more, i know you can do it.”

wooyoung

ballet dancer. specifically against a wall, or door, or window, or- you get the point. any vertical surface will do. one hand on your waist or breast or neck and the other hitching your thigh around his hips. sometimes he’ll be fucking you so well, your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders or chest—he really likes that.

“does that feel good, jagi? yeah? i’ll keep doing that then, but make sure i can hear those pretty sounds, hm?”

jongho

cowgirl. don’t be fooled, though you may be on top, he’s still in control. he lets you fuck yourself on his dick for a bit and when you close, he’ll flip you over so quickly you get whiplash. but that’s on days where he’s feeling like a menace. other than that, he does actually love the sight of you on top of him, claiming him as yours. he doesn’t have a preference for sitting or laying down, he’s perfectly happy as long he can see your fucked out and desperate face.

“there you go… you take me so well…”

　　[ networks ... ] @cromernet @wonderlandnet

　　[ perm taglist — open ... ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

426 notes · View notes

nezuscribe · 1 year

Text

𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙮, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: being needy for gojo because he’s been so busy shouldn’t have lead to you desperately riding him but you know what they say; desperate times call for desperate measures

warnings: mdni 18+, dry humping, needy reader, gojo being a tease but that’s about it

word count: 1.2k

jjk masterlist

something that sets gojo off, like really off, is when you act needy. and before he can’t think clearly, you’re not always like this, right? no, he knows for sure that you only act this way when you want something from him. the way you rarely look him in the eyes, and when you do it’s with that soft pout and a hopeless look in them.

he knows how you feel, honestly, truly, he does. he’s much rather be in bed with you, exploring the softness of your body (much like every other night), but things were due and no matter how much he wanted to put them off he couldn’t wait any longer.

but gods be damned in saying you weren’t trying to tease, or at least tempt him.

especially with that gloss you put on your lips shines in the dim light of his office, your skin warm to the touch as you lean against him, pawing at his thighs as you keen for him.

“‘toru,” you murmur with a small whine in his ear, biting his lobe when you start trailing your lips down his jaw, not missing the way his breathing hitched as you grinned momentarily at the sound, “miss you so much, it’s so lonely without you.”

he can only grunt, his hand mindlessly traveling over your back, trying his best to focus on the paperwork in front of him as his other hand flexes and relaxes, trying to keep his calm.

“don’t you miss me too, ‘toru?” you ask sweetly, your brows furrowing as you turned to sit on top of the mahogany desk, you night dress shifting upwards as you crossed your legs, giving him a slight peak of your thighs and the fact that you weren’t even wearing underwear.

fuck.

“i do, sweetheart,” he muttered, glancing at you as his cheeks flushes at the sight of you, “miss you so fuckin’ much but you know i got things to finish.”

you nod sleepily, your lips wobbling just a bit as you rub at your tired eyes, only wanting to talk to him for a bit before you’d got to sleep, knowing he’d wake up too early in the morning for you and you probably won’t see him until late tomorrow night. it’s difficult knowing that there probably wasn’t going to be a time this week where he could reserve just for you, but you were trying to be okay with that. you knew he’d make it up as fast as he could; but the hollow feeling in your chest was growing and you knew he could be the only one to patch it up.

“no i get it ‘toru, see you in a bit baby,” you tell him as you haul yourself off the table, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead as you go to leave, not able to turn around when you feel his grip tightening on your waist.

you could see the war raging behind his eyes, desperation and desire mixing with necessity as he groans, gingerly guiding you to his lap as his hands find purchase on your hips.

“fuck, sweetheart, can’t say shit like that…lookin’ at me like that,” he murmurs under his breath, his hands running across the satin that adorned your body, going up to cup your jaw to lean you to look at him, “it’s impossible to say no now, hm?” and it’s more so a question for himself as you meekly nod, not even noticing the bulge growing beneath you as you slowly shift, trying to get rid of the ache growing inside of you.

but no matter how much his eyes glaze over or his breathing becomes choppy, he still notices the small movements, grinning softly as he brings your head down a bit lower.

“how ‘bout this,” his cold finger traces the goosebumps on your shoulder, kissing the skin as he went down, never breaking eye contact with you as you whines quietly, “be a good girl and sit here for a little longer and i’ll hurry this shit up and go to bed with you?”

you’re quick to nod, whispering a small yes as you collapse into his chest, your lips near his neck as your leg sprawls out over his thighs, happy with the compromise.

but the seconds soon turned into excruciatingly long minutes and that ache only grew worse and worse, and every time he shifted in his seat or moved so you’d be more comfortable, you felt his hard on scraping by your entrance, only making the wait worse.

so you decided moving a little won’t hurt, trying to be sleek as you grind your pussy on his dick, hoping he didn’t take too much notice of the whimpers you’d let out every now and then.

but the throbbing only grew and so did the desperation, trying to move up and down, left or right in any way to make the empty feeling inside you a little better.

gojo could only grin slyly, his writing seizing as his hand on your back trailing up to grip your neck, forcing you to look at him as he pecked at your lips.

“you’re needy tonight, aren’t you?” it was a stupid question because the sweat on your cupids bow and the way your eyes fluttered shut whenever your clit rubbed against the rough material of his pants could answer for him.

“mhm, ‘m sorry…missed you too much,” you tried to explain, grinding yourself on him as your wetness began to seep out, staining the expensive material as he let you continue, enjoying the show as you gave up, not trying to conceal it anymore as you began to ride him.

he moved the straps of the gown down, his eyes glinting at the taste of your leveled nipples, his thumb running over both of them as he groaned drolly in the back of his throat, taking one into his mouth as you let out a cry at the feeling, shucking your pace as his tongue teased your tit.

“f-fuck,” you whimpered grabbing onto his shoulder for support, anything to make it feel better as you gnawed on your lip, “you feel s-so good ‘toru, missed this so much,” you told him, your fingers curling into his hair as he moved onto the other breast.

“taste so good sweetheart, missed your tits so fuckin’ much,” he said through a mouthful, his watchful eyes taking in the magnificent sight.

with everything going on, he moved down his hand to tweak at your clit, the added sensation enough to make you lose your mind, throwing your head back in ecstasy at the feeling. the humping mixed with his added ministrations made it all feel heavenly. the nights you spent with your fingers buried in your pussy couldn’t compare to this, even if it wasn’t as much as it usually was with gojo.

“m-mmh! so good! so fucking good ‘toru!” you let out through little breaths, your chest rising and falling as his movements quickened at the sound of your moans.

it wasn’t before long when that coil in you snapped, white blinding your eyes as you moaned with no care in the world, sounds so sinful that even gojo wasn’t immune to it. you could feel your toes curling, your thighs straddling him as your pussy clenched around nothing, your release making an even bigger stain on his pants as your breathing slowed down with your movements, sweat beading your neck as you glanced down at your lover.

“‘m sorry ‘toru, i made a mess all over you,” you noted, looking down as your slick connected to the fabric of his pants, leaning down for a small apologetic kiss but whimpering when he pulled back, desperate for any sort of contact with him because you know that in the end you distracted him from what had to be done, “i’ll be sit still now, p-promise!”

but he only chuckles, rubbing soothing shapes into your thighs despite his eyes holding a different kind of emotion.

“i know you’re sorry sweetheart,” he shifted a little, his hands flying as he went to undo his buckle, sliding down the zipper as his dick sprung out, his head an angry red as it leaked down its impressive length, “but you distracted me too much and now i don’t think i can finish these papers. so how about you be a good girl for me and make up for it?”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #satoru x reader #satoru x reader smut #gojo x you #gojo x you smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #gojo drabble #gojo satoru drabble

4K notes · View notes

bluejeanstrash · 1 year

Text

a sleepy seungcheol = a cuddly seungcheol.

early on in your relationship you’d learned that seungcheol was a cuddly sleeper. it wasn’t necessarily a need for him but just something he liked. you on the other hand, were not.

cuddles before sleeping? perfect. having someone all over you while trying to sleep? not so perfect.

thankfully, you both had come to a happy compromise.

but sometimes, like today, seungcheol would be extra cuddly. he was fast asleep, his body fully on top of yours—face buried in the crook of your neck, and one leg wedged in between yours.

you loved holding him like this—all safe and sound. until he fell asleep that is. because the deeper he slept, the heavier he got. your boyfriend was a buff guy, so now it was borderline uncomfortable.

you feel this pressure against your chest while he rests on you, completely at ease. you’d thought maybe if you tried hard enough you could fall asleep but nope, not possible.

‘cheollie’ you whisper, hoping it’ll be enough to wake him. but he just continues snoring, each snore rumbling through your body.

‘scoups’ you try again, a little louder.

‘CHOI SEUNGCHEOL’ and nothing. he simply moves a little in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud guttural snore.

okay. plan b. if you couldn’t get him off, it was time to slide down. after 2 unsuccessful attempts, you somehow make it, taking in a huge gulp of air on escape. you haven’t even fully turned to the side yet before seungcheol wakes up, upset the source of warmth underneath him is gone. he aimlessly moves his hand on the sheets until he can feel you.

‘where are you going?’ he mumbles sleepily, scooting over to you. ‘don’t..’ one heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you into him.

there’s a soft content hum as he feels your body fit into his.

‘seungcheollie?’ you call out to him sweetly.

‘mmm’

‘you know i can’t sleep like this, hmmn? come on’ you tap his arm signalling him to let go.

he doesn’t budge. instead, he just lets out some noncommittal sounds before nuzzling his face into your hair.

‘come on, let me go okay?’ more taps.

‘no! i don’t want to!’ he whines, kicking his feet under the blanket.

‘cuddle with me’ he pouts, slipping into baby talk. it was seungcheol’s own brand of baby talk that he would whip out only on occasions when he really really wanted something.

‘cheollie, you’re being such a baby’ you complain.

‘mmm, because i am. i’m your baby’ he says defiantly ‘so you should treat me like one’

you know there’s no point trying to convince him when he’s in this mood, so you sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

around 5 minutes passes in complete silence. and then he speaks.

‘you really won’t be able to sleep?’ he asks quietly, the thought of it now bothering him. how could he relax knowing his baby was not comfortable?

‘mmm’ you answer as he detaches himself from you.

‘fine! i’ll give up cuddle time for you!’ he sighs, rolling away. a few minutes later, he sighs again a little louder.

that’s his cue to tell you that you’re supposed to concede and snuggle upto him. but you don’t, having finally found a position that’s hitting all the right spots.

‘you really won’t come to me?’ his voice is so stupidly endearing that it makes you melt. you can’t say no to that.

he smiles as he hears the sheets rustle, your body moving towards him.

with his arms wide open he welcomes you as you rest your head against his chest. ‘i can sleep like this..’ you concede as he grins making sure you’re comfortable but still all wrapped up in him.

#short little fluff piece #a little random #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol imagine #scoups drabble #scoups imagine #scoups one shot

2K notes · View notes

portgasdwrld · 5 months

Text

★ Cleaning

↺ nsfw content featuring Ace x fem!reader

Summary: After being scolded by you because of his messy room, he finds himself tidying up his space, but falls on a pair of your thong. Let’s say, he easily got distracted…

Warning: NSFW content

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

-Ace?

He watches you walk toward the busy table with a bag in your hand. You don’t seem particularly pleased with seeing him and your eyebrows are slightly frowned. He pushes back a little his hat and stares at you with curious eyes. Your fellow crew members look at you intrigued as you close the distance, flickering their gaze between you two.

-Can I talk to you for moment?

You ask, but it sounded more like a demand from your tone. He knows at this moment that you are indeed pissed and he quickly nods. He stands up to walk away as his friends tease him about being a bad boyfriend to you.

-What’s wrong pretty girl?

He asks with a smile to relax the atmosphere, but it only earns him an annoyed sigh from you as you roll your eyes.

-Your room, that’s the problem.

-Huh?

He looks at you absently as he tries to recall what did he possibly did wrong this morning to piss you off so much. You quickly bring him back to reality as your hand softly grab his forearm.

-Ace, baby, I love you but I cant possibly sleep in your room anymore with the mess.

-It’s not that ba-

-Yes it’s that bad! I didn’t mind the messy clothes laying a bit everywhere, but I draw the line at food spoiling in your room as flies make it their own territory.

You explain frustrated at Ace’s easygoing attitude when it comes to cleaning. You let go of your hold and cross your arm against your chest. Yes you love him, yes he’s really important to you, but he still gets on your nerves at times.

-But-

-And! The dirty socks ?? It needs to go, there is a dirty-clothe basket for a reason.

-Y/n, wait-

-No, I’m done. If the room isn’t clean by tonight, I’m sleeping with the girls like I used to.

He cocks an eyebrow at you with a small smile, not believing your words. You two have been sleeping in the same bed for around a month now, and he can’t possibly imagine not having you in his arms while he sleeps. He challenges you a little with his furrowed eyebrows and sly smile. You roll your eyes at him once again and huff.

-I do my fair share of cleaning as we share your room and I know you can be busy when I’m not, but it has to be fair. The dirty plates really are my limit…So yeah, I’m being serious.

You hand him the bag with the garbages that you collected earlier as you were thinking what to tell him. You are upset, but you also get that he’s a pirate and probably never had proper discipline when it comes to that.

Ace frowns a little as he understands this is truly a serious situation and takes the bag in your hand. You avoid his face as you don’t want to be influenced by his charm and back down on your boundaries. You feel him walk closer to you and leave a quick peck on your forehead.

-Then you won’t be mad at me anymore?

He concludes with a soft smile. He takes your hand into his. You nod as you put distance again between you two by taking a step back.

-Yes, but it has to become a habit Ace..

-I will try my best! Let me take care of this, so my princess is able to sleep in a clean space tonight!…and after tonight too!

You chuckle a little, glad to see him enthusiastic and understanding to your frustrations.

-Thank you

-No problem, I will see you later then!

He smiles at you one last time and he doesn’t miss the chance to steal a kiss on your lips before walking away from you: Direction, his room!

——

As Ace walks in, he’s met by his familiar room. The bed is undone and he can see the beginning of your cleaning and where you clearly gave up. You left a pile of dishes on his desk and the dirty clothes near the bed.

The fire user sighs at the view, knowing it’s gonna be quite the work, but if it’s for you, anything is worth it. He starts by the easiest which is dropping the dirty dishes in the ship kitchen and quickly washing them.

He quickly runs back to his room ready to attack the next task. He takes a wet clothe and pass over his fournitures to remove accumulated dusts. He places your books as a small pile on his desk and put his maps in their designated basket, along with any files he had left around.

After running around the ship, he gets his hand on a broom. He cleans the floors from the dusts and any garbages, after putting the clothes on the bed to fold them or throw them in the dirty-clothe basket.

He finally sits down on the bed. As he’s drinking water, he eyes the clothes and pass his hands through the familiar pieces that you wear and he wears. He puts the water down and attack the pile of clothes.

It’s going very well until, he’s almost at the end of it and he falls on one of your pair of thongs. Ace can’t help himself but smirk as he exactly remember when you wore this and what exactly happened after this was removed from you. He finds himself lost between his dirty thoughts, him missing you, him being tired of cleaning.

A little break wont’t hurt right? As long as everything is done by tonight..?

He grins mischievously as he lays down on his bed. He closes his eyes for a second as he sighs before opening them once again and stares at your pair of panties between his fingers. Despite knowing you would kill him if you saw him possibly , maybe highly considering jerking off instead of cleaning, the thought is getting more and more tempting.

Damn he loves it when you stand your ground and show how confident you are. He loves when you climb on top of him and you two make out for minutes and minutes before getting to the act. Those moments where his hands roam all over your curves, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. He loves when you touch his bare chest with your fingers and press slightly your core against him. He loves how lost you get when he touches you, how your confident behaviour crumbles whenever he presses kisses over your body. You are such a turn on to him, it’s almost unfair.

He feels his shorts getting tighter as a tent form under the material. He sighs as he brushes his free hand in his dark hair. He looks at the ceiling as he let his other hand flop against the mattress.

“I can maybe do this in like 10 minutes? And like get back to cleaning after..”

He mumbles to himself as he tries to convince himself it’s a good plan even though he clearly has a feeling that it is not.

“Huh fuck it”

He concludes nonchalantly with a slight shoulder shrug as he awkwardly massages his cock through his shorts. What are the possible odds you enter the room while he decides to do this…

He hisses at the pleasure that the slight friction gives him and his eyes dart to your thong which he’s now holding tighter between his fingers.

From this moment, his mind forgets all about the cleaning task and he’s only thinking of your silhouette, the curve of your body, the view he has when you two are having intercourse. He’s thinking of how he ate your pussy out with this exact thong pressed against your wet core, you always get so wet for him.

His cock now in his hands, Ace allows himself to start with slow strokes which leaves him wishing for your presence. Your lips wrap his tip so well, you suck it and lick it with such skills that he dreams of spending a day just getting his cock sucked by you. Your name leaves his lips as he begins to go faster, occasionally holding his cock tighter like you do.

He’s lost in his train of thoughts before he hears some rumbling outside of his room and your voice from afar after being greeted by Marco. Usually he wouldn’t bother to hide the fact that he was jerking off, but now was a different situation. In panic he pulls his shorts up, but as you open the door, you seem to quickly notice something is off.

“Hey…I came to see how the cleaning was going..”

You trail off as you scan the room. Ace who was just now looking at you with surprised Bambi eyes, cough to shake the awkwardness away and points at his desk area with a slight blush.

“Well the desk is now uhh clean and uh I’m um finishing the clothes..”

“With my thong in your hand?”

You cock an eyebrow at his hand. Ace didn’t notice that he was still holding tightly into the piece of clothing when he pointed at his desk.

His hard bulge makes it harder for him to focus as all he’s thinking right now is tossing the clothes on the floor and fuck you. His eyes stare at you without much thoughts behind.

“Yeah…well your clothes are mixed up with mine”

You squint your eyes at him, before nodding still skeptic. You know Ace, you know your boyfriend, you clearly have an idea of what he was possibly doing and as you step on his belt laying on the floor, it completely confirms it for you.

“You did a better job than I was expecting …”

You start as you ignore him and analyze his job so far. Ace awkwardly shifts on the bed, trying to find a more confortable position that would relieve a little his dick.

“Oh..uh thanks babe, I really tried my best..”

��…, but there is clearly still unfinished work but I guess I did say you have until tonight for it to be done.”

You finish as you turn to face him and point at the pile of clothing. You cross your arms over your chest as you lean back on the desk for support. Ace looks delicious. His shorts are barely hanging on his waist, his obvious hard bulge, his toned body glistening from a slight sweat, his dark long hair covering a little his face and his flushed freckled cheeks.

“I will finish it don’t worry”

He says as he holds eye contact with you and a confident smile. You scoff as a smirk curve your lips. You uncross your arms and walk closer to him. You cup his face with one of your hand, your boyfriend on the other side is still holding eye contact with you. You peck his lips and you find it a bit funny how easily he left a sigh out.

“Alright, then I guess I’m done here”

You try to walk away, but Ace’s hand is quick to hold you back by holding one of your thighs. You know he’s not in a position to ask for favors after the whole cleaning situation and he’s very well aware of this too, which is why he hasn’t flipped you over, back pressed on the bed and fucked you already.

“You can kiss me better than this”

He teases as you feel his thumb massage circles on your skin.

“I will when you hold your promise Fire-Fist”

You reply as you flick his forehead. He whines a little and suddenly his attitude changes completely. He sighs defeated as he let go of his hold on you and lay down again on the bed.

“Alright baby, then see you tonight”

He smirks as he watches your confused expression. You nod slowly, “is he going to just continue what he was doing with my old pair of underwear…” you think to yourself. You slightly get annoyed that he’s able to always be so cool about everything. It’s not fair, because you really wanted to give him the best blowjob ever because he just looks amazing and you love him, but you have your pride. So you decide to not make it so easy for him, make him see what he’s clearly missing by not finishing up his cleaning task.

You quickly kick your footwear off and climb on top of him, surprising him. You smirk to yourself as you feel satisfied with the expected reaction you wanted.

“And what are you going to do Babe?”

You coo at him as you dangerously close the distance between your bodies. Ace brown eyes glitter in excitement and his hands find themselves naturally on your exposed thighs.

His cock is painfully hard at this point. Ace furrows his eyebrows, before tightly closing his eyes in pleasure when your knee softly presses against his bulge.

“Your cock is so hard baby..it must hurt so bad”

You continue in a fake concern. Ace doesn’t answer and he simply let his fingers travel under your shorts where he grabs tightly your ass. You leave at first a peck on his neck and then multiple butterflies kisses all over his torso, until you are facing his hard dick still hidden under his shorts.

“Your dick is probably leaking in precum already”

You continue, trying to push him to the edge. You know you have the control over the situation, but the thought of him randomly snapping and fucking you was incredibly tempting. But you had to stick to your plan. You pan your hot breath over his length under Ace lustful eyes. He’s tightly holding into the bed sheets and that’s when you figure it’s best to leave it there for now.

“Too bad there is still some cleaning to do”

You conclude as you remove yourself from him with a fake disappointed pout. You grin to Ace who looks completely out of it. His head heavily falls back against his pillow as he sighs annoyed.

You put your shoes back and as you’re about to leave, you hear your boyfriend speak.

“Enjoy whatever you have to do now, because I promise you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You don’t turn around and simply close the door behind yourself.

A clean room and a hard fuck? Seems like the perfect night.

As of now, Ace has to finish, well his

Cleaning.

lowkey might do a part 2. If I have time

931 notes · View notes