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#I'm really hoping to see the point in sticking around
iicehoon · 2 days
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LEVEL UP | STREAMER!SOOBIN X READER
︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
"NO NO NO NO," you heard your boyfriend, Soobin, yell in despair.
Glancing at the Snoopy-themed clock, it read 2:30 AM, marking five hours since he started streaming. You recalled his excitement about being sponsored by the game, hoping for future offers if it goes well.
Rising from your spot on the shared bed, you crossed the dimly lit hall to quietly open the door to his room. He remained intensely focused on the screen, the soft clicks of his mechanical keyboard echoing as you entered. Frustrated sighs followed each demise of his character on screen.
"Chat, you don't understand," he started, setting aside his keyboard and mouse. "No username, I am not taking backseat gaming or any advice from you. The last time I did that, it made me restart the ENTIRE game."
You chuckled softly, watching your boyfriend ruffle his hair in frustration. His slouched shoulders hinted that he was nearing his breaking point and pretty ready to end the stream.
"Binnie," you called out, settling into the beanbag adjacent to his desk.
Soobin perked up instantly at the sound of his name, swiftly removing his earbuds as he rose to approach you. "When did you come in?" he asked, crouching down to your level. Leaning in, he planted a kiss on your lips before gently settling on top of you, eliciting a surprised yelp at his sudden weight.
"You've been at it for five hours, hun," you said, poking his side playfully until he squirmed and finally got up after the tenth poke.
"Come here, and I'll show you why," he motioned you over, patting his lap. His followers knew about you because he couldn't help but talk about you at times, and they have seen your face from the times you brought him snacks or a drink during his streams.
"Hi Chat," You smiled, bringing your face closer to his webcam and giving them a little wave when you settled on his lap.
"Okay," Soobin placed his chin on your shoulder and returned his hands to the keyboard and mouse. "Just watch and see why I just can't get past this stupid level."
You weren't as big of a gamer as Soobin, but you knew your way around from the games he played or even those you tried yourself from the days when he didn't want to be at his computer.
One of the perks of having a gamer boyfriend who was also a popular streamer was having access to his Steam account and his credits to buy games that piqued your interest, often discovered from TikTok.
Your eyes analyzed his movements, and you couldn't help but giggle when he dropped his head, hitting the back of your neck. "I don't understand why it's not working," he sighed in frustration.
"Well, it's because you're not hitting that when you're doing your runs," you explained, gently removing his hands from the setup in front of you. Slowly, you moved his character over to what you believed was the key element for him to pass this level. "See, it's breakable with that TNT sign on it."
You restarted the level and began to execute your run. As you played, Soobin's eyes moved back and forth between his main screen and your side profile, a lovestruck smile spreading across his face, just as his chat had claimed always happened whenever you were in his peripheral vision.
His smile widened as you cheered, successfully passing the level he had spent the majority of his time on. "Wait, babe, you're crazy good," he exclaimed, his jaw-dropping in amazement at the winning transition.
"I'm just better than you, Soobie boobie" you teased, twisting slightly to face him and sticking out your tongue.
He shook his head, laughing, and wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, giving you a quick peck on your cheek.
His joyful expression quickly shifted to one of furrowed eyebrows as he read his chat.
"Chat, she IS NOT replacing me," he groaned, "And stop asking if she's single. I'll literally make out with her right here, right now."
an | there is no specific game I'm referencing, I couldn't really think of one but if anyone has an idea, I can make it for another one!
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vodika-vibes · 17 hours
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Cowboy Casanova
Summary: When you decided to move to the middle of nowhere to get some perspective in your life, you expect to be bored out of your mind. You definitely don’t expect Bacara.
Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader
Word Count: 4123
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, biting, hints of a breeding kink
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things
A/N: This started out at one thing, turned into another, which turned into a third thing, and anyway it's now what it was supposed to be so I had to change the name, which makes me sad. The Original name was Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy. Anyway! I hope you like my sin. Also, this is a western au because...I don't have a reason other than Bacara with a cowboy hat. I'm sorry. Anyway, no requests got done today because of this. Note, this isn't edited - so if you see any errors, no you didn't.
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“You’re staring,”
“Am not.” You reply absently as you drag your gaze across Bacara’s bare chest, your eyes lingering first on his dog tags and then on the nipple piercings that he got when he lost a bet.
He chuckles, low and deep, “You’re still staring.”
“If you don’t want to be stared at, then you should put on a shirt.” You counter, unrepentant.
Bacara arches a brow and flings a rag at your face, making you sputter and scrunch up your nose, “You wouldn’t say that if I was staring at you.”
“Of course not. Double standards are a thing after all.”
He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, leaning into your personal space as he picks up his rag again, a smug smirk crossing his face when your gaze drops to his chest and then his waist, before snapping back to his face, “See something you like, city mouse?”
Your face heats, but you keep your gaze locked with his, “Just worried that your pants are going to fall down since they’re hanging so low.”
“Fashion choice,” Bacara replies with a shrug, as he walks away from you and back over to the machine he’s trying to make work, “Besides, it’s hot as balls out here, and I hate the feel of my shirt sticking to my skin.”
Well, he’s not wrong about that.
Bacara leans back into the engine block and reaches in, “Why don’t you just pay someone to come and fix it?” You ask.
“You have the money for some repair man from the city to drive out here and fix this? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“You own, like, a dozen cows.”
“There are three dozen of them, actually.”
“That’s not the point that you think it is.”
He laughs and pulls back, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Come here, I need a small hand.”
“I don’t fix things, Bacara.” You warn, though you do hop off the bale of hay that you’ve been sitting on and walk over to him.
“You need to learn, city mouse. What happens if something breaks in your home?”
“Uh, I’ll call you.”
“What if I’m not available?”
“Why wouldn’t you be available?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t exist to come running at your beck and call.” Bacara replies dryly.
“What? Wow! Really?” You marvel sarcastically, and then you yelp when he pinches your side. “Rude!”
“Alright, Little Miss Sass, I need you to reach into there and feel around for any loose wires.” Bacara explains as he presses his chest against your back and points where he needs your help.
“Wires? I’m not going to get electrocuted, am I?” You ask as you try, really, really hard to not get distracted at the feel of him pressed against you.
He shoots you a look, “Of course not. It’s totally safe.”
“Fiiine.” You sigh out as you reach into the opening and feel around blindly, “Um...okay, I found a wire.”
“Excellent work,” His voice is low against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver. Embarrassingly, he notices and a quiet chuckle falls from him, “I need you to follow the wire and tell me if it’s connected on both ends.”
You ignore him, as best as you can, and feel around for a moment, “I...think so? It doesn’t feel loose at least.”
“Damn, I was hoping you’d say the opposite. Alright, pretty girl. You’re done. This is now, officially, someone elses problem.”
You pull your hand out and make a face at the oil on your fingers, “I thought you didn’t want to pay-”
“I don’t, which is why I’ll have Neyo come and fix it.”
“Ripping off your own brothers, shame-”
“What are brothers for if not a little unpaid labor every now and then?” Bacara asks rhetorically, “Come on, you can come inside and get that stuff off your hand.” He picks his hat up off his work table, and pauses before setting it on his head.
He shoots you a small smirk, and drops his hat on your head, it immediately tilts over your eyes, and you use the back of your hand to tilt the rim back so you can look at him, “Well, how do I look?” You ask with a small grin.
Bacara lazily drags his gaze across your body, his smirk growing, “Hot as hell,” He drawls.
Your face heats again. Still, you’re not able to stop the delight from sliding across your face, “Well, thank you~”
He stares at you for a moment longer, and then motions for you to follow him. It’s kind of unnecessary, you could navigate Bacara’s ranch blindfolded and drunk, but you do appreciate being able to walk with him.
After you get yourself cleaned up, which takes a lot longer than you anticipated since the oil just did not want to come off your hands, you meander from the guest bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen.
He’s still not wearing a shirt, and you’re beginning to think that he’s walking around like that intentionally. “Did you manage to get the oil off?” Bacara asks as he turns to face you.
“Yeah, eventually. The bottle of special soap was empty, so I had to make some more real quick.” You shrug easily as you sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. You don’t mind, you normally make it for him anyway.
Your parents would be so proud. Thousands of credits spent on a fancy Chem degree...and you use it mixing oil removing soap.
“Sorry about that, I should have checked earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You fold your legs under you, and your attention lands on something interesting on the table.
Now. Bacara is a rancher, there’s always new and interesting things laying around his house that he needs to explain to you. Over the year that you’ve been friends with him, you’ve learned a lot about ranching and about the things that he needs to do his job well.
This, however, is new.
“Bacara?” You sound slightly bemused as you reach across the table and hook a finger under, surprisingly silky, maroon rope, “What’s this for?” You ask as you turn your gaze to him.
Unless your eyes are deceiving you, there’s a hint of a blush on his face.
“It’s a joke gift. From Cody.” Bacara replies as he walks over to the table and picks up the rope, only to hesitate for a moment, “Although-” he murmurs quietly, as if to himself, as he pulls some of the rope out and lays it across your wrist, “It would look amazing wrapped around your wrists.”
You tilt your head and your mouth is slightly dry, you’re pretty sure that his comment was meant to be an inside thought, not an outside one, but it’s not like you can unring that bell.
“I think it’d look better wrapped around yours.” You blurt, and his gaze snaps to meet yours, “The color would look amazing against your skin tone.” You add, sheepishly.
He stares at you, and you stare right back at him.
And just as you’re about to apologize, Bacara smirks.
“Alright.”
You blink at him, “Alright?”
“Alright. Lets see what you’re capable of.”
You blink at him again. And then a third time as his words process, “Wait! Really?”
“Really. Unless you think you can’t handle it.”
“I can handle it,” You shoot back, “The question is can you?”
He folds his arms across his broad chest, “Let’s make this a little more fun-”
“-more fun then you getting tied up?”
His grin is predatory and sharp, “I don’t beg. Ever. For anyone.” He advances on you, “However, if you can make me beg in say...an hour, you win this little challenge and I’ll do whatever you want for a week.”
“You already do whatever I want, Bacara.” You point out.
“Unimportant.” He replies, “But when you lose-”
“-if. If I lose-”
His gaze locks with yours and his grin becomes even more predatory, “When you lose,” Bacara repeats, “I get two hours to make you beg for me, and when I win you’ll do whatever I want for a week.”
“Hold on now! How come you get two hours and I only get one?” You demand.
“Because I’m going to spend the first hour with my face buried in your pussy, that’s why.”
Your entire thought process screeches to a halt as your train of thought derails. “...oh.”
“So what do you say, city mouse? Do we have a deal?”
And, really, there’s only one thing you can say to that, “Deal.”
Bacara advances on you again, essentially crowding you, as he walks you through his home and into his bedroom. His eyes a glittering with arousal, but he doesn’t touch you, as much as you can tell that he wants to.
He kicks the bedroom door shut and turns on the lamp so there’s some light in the room, and then he folds his arms and waits.
You gaze at him thoughtfully, a small smile on your lips, “You’re wearing too much. Strip.”
His gaze is hot as it lingers on your face, “Yes ma’am,”
You consider watching him strip for a moment, but instead turn to the bed and start setting up the rope, while pulling out your phone to look up safe ways to tie him up.
“Alright,” You murmur to yourself as you make sure the ropes are secure around the bed frame, and you climb off the bed to focus your attention on him, “Pick a position that’s comfortable for you, Bacara.” You say as you carefully don’t take your eyes off his face.
“Not even gonna steal a peek, kitten?” Bacara asks, as he moves passed you and settles on the bed, with his back pressed against the headboard.
“I lady doesn’t peek, Bacara,” You sniff.
“Oh? Do they tie up their friends.”
“I can leave you know.”
He laughs and grabs your wrist to tug you onto the bed, you tumble against him, your hands settling on his shoulders, as he reaches around you to settle his hand on the back of your neck, “I want you to look, kitten. After all, I need to know if I meet your approval.” You have to shift to get more comfortable, eventually straddling his thigh so you’re not twisted uncomfortably.
You roll your eyes, but slowly drag your gaze down his chest, a nearly silent sigh of delight falling from you when you see that he’s still wearing his dog tags. Bacara chuckles lowly, and you hurriedly continue your visual perusal of the man beneath you.
He’s solid, your Bacara. Oh sure, he has a belly, but you’re pretty sure that he’s solid muscle, like the professional weight lifters you used to know in college. Big, beefy, and could lift you with one arm if he was so inclined.
Absently you trail your fingers down his chest, teasingly skirting around the nipple piercings, and down his stomach, and then your gaze lands on his cock.
Already erect and with precum leaking from the head.
He’s gorgeous.
But that’s not what catches your attention. No. What catches your attention is the golden piercings.
You blink at the piercings dumbly for a moment. “Holy shit Bacara.” You blurt, “Why didn’t you say that you had cock piercings?”
“Not really something that comes up in polite conversations,” He counters with a grin.
“But...If I had know then my-” You cut yourself off before you finish the thought, and you snap your gaze to his face, “Never mind.”
“Oh no, you definitely need to finish that thought, kitten.” Bacara practically purrs, “Come on, your what?”
“Nope. Not going there.” You shift your weight slightly, and reach down to grab his wrist, but Bacara doesn’t let you move it. “Really?”
He smirks, “Tell me, and I’ll let you tie me up.”
“Don’t you automatically lose if you don’t let me even try?” You try to bargain.
His smirk widens, “No, because I saw that look on your face. You want my face in your pussy.”
Damn him for being right.
“Fine,” You drag the word out, “I might have fantasized about you before. Maybe.”
He smirks smugly, “Knew it. Alright, you may continue.”
“I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be the one in control right now.” You counter, even as you bring his hand to the headboard and carefully loop the rope around his wrist.
Bacara hums and his still free hand comes up to caress your hip, “Oh, kitten. I need you to understand that I’m letting you do this. But I need you to know that I’m the one in control here, not you.”
Your fingers slip on the rope, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that for the sake of the challenge.” You finally say once you finish with your knot, “How’s that? Too tight?”
Bacara tugs at the rope experimentally, “Good enough.” He finally says, as he lifts his other hand to the headboard.
You’re a lot faster this time, now that you know what you’re doing, and you sit back on your heels as you look at him. “I was right,” You finally say as you climb off of him so you’re able to peel your own clothes off.
“Bout what?” Bacara asks as he watches you strip with hungry eyes.
“That color does look amazing against your skin.”
He hums his understanding, tilting his head so he’s able to watch you push your shorts and panties down your legs. “I can just about guarantee that it’s going to look much better against yours.”
You set your clothes on a chair and climb on the end of the bed, settling yourself between his feet.
Bacara looks completely relaxed, and you’re beginning to accept that he was right, he is the one in control here, as much as it might seem like you are. “Just gonna sit there and stare at me, kitten?” He drawls.
“I’m thinking.”
“Do you need some direction?” He offers, “Because I can do that.”
“I’m not giving up yet, Bacara.” You counter as you slide up so that you’re better able to reach him, your fingers feather light as you glide them across his thigh.
His muscle twitches under your touch, “Yet, huh.” Bacara says with a small smirk, “Good to know.”
Finally fed up with his comments, you surge up and crash your lips against his. Your hands wander across his chest, lightly flicking his piercings, as you trail your tongue across his lower lip.
You’re almost surprised when he takes control of the kiss.
Almost.
He catches your lower lip between his teeth, and nips you roughly enough that a squeak falls from you. Bacara then soothes the sore spot with a lazy swipe of his tongue, and the moment you part your lips for him, his tongue slides against your own.
He maps out your mouth with a single minded intensity that leaves you moaning, and encourages you to straddle him again. When you break the kiss, you’re slightly breathless, and his gaze is dark as is slides across your face.
“You should give up, kitten.” Bacara purrs.
You shake your head, “I can still win.”
He laughs, “You’re already straddling me, and we haven’t done much more than kissing.”
“That-”
“I’ll make you feel so good, kitten.” He purrs as he tugs his wrist once, causing the knot to unravel. He presses his hand against the small of your back, and pulls you closer, and you shiver when you feel his hard erection pressed against you.
Unthinkingly, you grind against him, the head of his cock pressing deliciously against your clit and a moan fall from your lips as you do so.
His arm hooks tightly around your waist, and he pulls you closer so that he’s able to trail his lips against your throat, “Say you give up, kitten. And I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
Your lips turn down into a small pout.
“We can try this again later,” He promises, very temptingly, “After you’ve had some time to prepare properly.”
You peer at him, and then release a heavy sigh, and reach up to untie his other hand, “This isn’t me giving up.”
“Of course not.” Bacara agrees, suspiciously easily, “But, it is you forfeiting, which means it’s my turn.”
You squeak as he flips you so that you’re under him, smoothly using one hand to pin your hand over your head and tying them together and to the headboard.
Bemused, you tug on the ropes, but there’s no give whatsoever, “How-”
“Practice. I’ll teach you properly for next time.”
“...this game was designed for me to lose from the get go, wasn’t it.”
He grins and leans over you, his lips hovering just over yours, “Good girl, I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Not gonna deny that.” He replies before he kisses you deeply, but quickly.
And then he’s moving down your body, biting marks into the soft skin of your neck and throat, across your collar, and down your chest. You squirm and writhe under his attention, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.
He takes a quick moment to lavish your nipples with attention, before he’s moving again. At this, you’re unable to keep yourself from gasping out his name, and you feel his lips curl up into a smile against your breast.
Bacara litters your stomach and sides with possessive marks and then he leaves a trail of bite marks from your hip to your thighs. By this point, you’re a moaning mess, you don’t care if this means that he wins, you just don’t want him to stop.
And only then, when he’s sure that you’re covered in his marks, and when you’re whining for him, does he spread your legs to make room for himself between your thighs.
“Look at you,” Bacara praises lightly as he drags a single finger between your folds, a pleased smirk crossing his face as your hips twitch towards him, “You’re already wet. Do you have a biting kink, kitten?”
Your face burns at his words, and you stubbornly press your lips together to not say anything.
Bacara clicks his tongue, and his hand lands, heavily, on your outer thigh. It surprises you more than it hurts you, and you blink at him wide eyed, “I asked you a question.”
You know what he wants to hear. Even though you’re so horny that you almost can’t stand it. Even though his large, calloused finger is circling your clit in a way that is kind of driving you insane. You still know what he wants to hear.
What he’s expecting to hear.
Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips, and you plaster on your most innocent expression, “Did you?” You ask, slightly breathlessly as you clench around nothing from his teasing, “I wasn’t listening.”
Bacara stops. His fingers stop moving, and his hand, which was caressing your thigh and the red mark blooming there, stops moving as well. He searches your face for something, and then a slow smirk crosses his lips.
“Safe word or color?”
Your heart racing with excitement, you breath out, “Color.”
He hums, “What color are you?”
“Green.” You blurt, “Very green.”
For a moment, there’s a glimmer of something warm and soft on his handsome face, before it’s gone. “So, it sounds like you are able to listen.”
“When I want to.”
“Then it sounds like I just need to teach you that you need to listen to me, doesn’t it?”
You feel a thrill of delight, “If you ever said anything worth listening to-” You words get cut off with a ragged moan as he suddenly thrusts a finger into your pussy and curls it, almost instinctively finding the spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.
“I’m going to tell you how this is going to go,” Bacara says, a hint of promise in his voice, “I’m going to give you as many orgasms as I want, you are only allowed to cum when I allow it.” He eases his finger out of your pussy, and licks it clean with an appreciative hum, “And, if you don’t obey me, I’ll have to punish you.”
“Punish?” You ask.
He just smirks, “Do you understand? Answer verbally.”
“I understand,”
“Good girl,” He gives himself a couple of lazy strokes as he examines your splayed out body appreciatively. “I did say that I was going to bury my face in your pussy, didn’t I.” He muses, loud enough that you’re able to hear him, “But I don’t think you’ve earned that.”
That pulls an unhappy noise from your lips, and he chuckles, “Only good girls get to have their pussy eaten, and you haven’t been a good girl.” He releases your legs, letting them fall back to the bed, before he reaches up to check the ropes one more time, and then flips you, making sure that the ropes didn’t twist in such a way to hurt you. “There we go,” Bacara murmurs as he smooths his hand over your ass and then squeezes roughly
You squirm under him, but settle when you feel his hand press against your lower back. He quickly eases a pillow under your hips and adjusts your legs so that you’re spread wide for him.
He doesn’t touch you for a moment, though you can feel his heavy gaze dragging against you body. Just as you start to squirm, a little self conscious about being so exposed, his hands are on you again.
His hands are calloused and heavy on your body, and you’re sure you’re going to have bruises from his hands covering your body, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care as his hands press into you.
And then you don’t care about anything as the blunt head of his cock presses against you. Slowly he eases inch after inch inside you, and you’re squirming and whining before he’s even halfway sheathed.
The piercing feels amazing inside you, and you find yourself clenching around him.
Bacara groans and bites down on the back of your neck, “No cumming, kitten.” He warns as he slowly pushes the rest of the way in. As soon as he’s bottomed out, he presses a light kiss to the mark on the back of your neck.
He doesn’t move for a moment, and then he slowly eases out, until only the head of his cock is inside you. Bacara waits a beat, until you squirm to try and get him to move again, and then he thrusts in hard and fast.
He keeps the rapid pace, his breath hot against your ear, his hand fisted in your hair to keep your head down.
The sensations of his hand in your hair, and low groans in your ear, adding to the amazing feeling of his piercings dragging against your walls and the delicious stretch of his cock, are too much to handle.
And try as you might, you’re not able to keep yourself from cumming with a cry of his name.
You feel him laugh, “That’s punishment 1, kitten.”
“Not my fault-” You gasp, “Feels too good.”
“Oh? What’s that? Harder you said?” Bacara asks, as he adjusts himself slightly, before he leans in and catches your earlobe between his teeth. Before he does exactly as he warned, thrusting hard enough that you release a noise that is something between a moan and a sob of sheer pleasure.
“Good girl,” Bacara purrs, “You’re taking me so well.” He smooths his hand up your spine, “Such a willing little thing,” He coos in your ear, “I’m going to ruin you, kitten.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.
“Please,” You whisper, “Please ruin me.”
For half a moment, Bacara’s hips stutter, and he releases a deep groan. “Oh, princess. Gladly.” He pulls out completely, pulling a disapproving whine from your lips and then he flips you back onto your back, before he thrusts back into you hard and fast. “I’m going to stuff you full of my cum, princess.” He promises, “Over and over and over, until I’m good and done.”
“Cara-” You whine his name as you arch against him as best as you can.
“So, be my good girl and take all of me,” He orders as he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, “Be my good girl, and I’ll ruin you.” He promises, his gaze dark.
And, really, how can you do anything other than obey him after that promise.
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chipped-chimera · 7 months
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I am not doing well. I am fucked up. It's really hard to hold onto any shred of optimism for me at the moment so ... Idk if people have cute things to show me or nice things to say that'd be really, really appreciated.
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starsmuserainbow · 8 months
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Always having to scroll down for the next few posts to load to make the number of the tracked tags update (or, at least that works every now and then, some numbers just don't reset at all though). Mutual checker not working (I think? not sure where that icon would even be atm with the new header-design), most likely because of the mess that tumblr did to the post-headers (and the avatars). Then ofc all that tumblr is doing recently. How empty and cold the dash feels without the avatars next to each post.
I really don't have a good feeling about all of this.
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writingouthere · 3 months
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bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot
summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.
cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.
**************
"I'm pregnant!"
Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.
Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."
"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.
"Holy shit, did you two-"
"No!"
"Ew, no!"
Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."
You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."
"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"
"Hey!"
"-then who did?"
You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."
Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.
"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"
"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."
Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.
"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."
With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.
You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.
You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.
"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"
"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.
"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."
"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."
He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.
"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.
"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.
"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."
You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.
"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."
You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.
"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.
"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.
"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"
"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."
"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."
"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"
"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.
"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.
"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."
The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.
"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."
You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.
"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.
"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.
"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.
"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"
He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.
He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.
Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.
"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.
"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.
"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.
"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."
For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.
"What-"
"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."
Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"
"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."
You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"
"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."
When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.
If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.
dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.
side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.
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rizsu · 7 months
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ex-husband!gojo, who wakes up every morning to his disappointment. it's been well over a couple months, yet he still extends his arm to feel for you.
ex-husband!gojo, who still has your contact saved as his main emergency contact. he uses this to his advantage— ringing your phone with the excuse of being "too drunk to drive." it works. he isn't exactly high off his brain, but he has alcohol in his system.
ex-husband!gojo, who happened to spot you with another man. who is he? is he your friend? your lover? perhaps you met after the divorce? whatever the status is, it doesn't help to soothe his jealousy. it's not like he can walk up to you — you might issue a restraining order against him.
ex-husband!gojo, who finds himself at your doorstep. it's late, storming, and you're probably asleep. he doesn't move. mind set in chaos as he ponders whether he should leave or ring the bell. he wants to see you, but the look of disgust he might receive is something he isn't ready to face.
ex-husband!gojo, who's shocked that you opened the door. he didn't ring the bell. were you already there? probably. his throat ran dry, unable to speak a word. you're leaning on the door's frame, arms crossed as you tilt your head. "you need something, gojo?" you asked, not willing to receive an answer.
"can i — can i come in?" he stutters, a little shocked at the use of his surname. the little sparkle of hope that you continue using his first name has been dusted.
ex-husband!gojo, who's fidgety in your home. your silence isn't helping him relax. hell, he hasn't known relaxation ever since the divorce. "help yourself to the kitchen. sleep wherever, i'm going back to bed," your voice held no volume of softness. it was as if you were but a stranger, yet he refuses to let you become one.
"then, may i sleep in your room? on the floor, of course," he's hesitant with his request, deciding it's best to justify himself, "i don't know my way around this house."
ex-husband!gojo, who's yet again stunned that you allowed him in your room — let alone your bed. now he's as still as a stick, unable to fall asleep due to his itching urge to pull you into him. you're most likely sound asleep, uncaring to the man you once called your husband.
ex-husband!gojo, who calls out to you, keeping his voice low as he speaks, "can we talk?"
you replied to him, voice still holding its tone of harshness, "what is there to talk about?"
"anything. how's life been for you?" he keeps his speech short, afraid of annoying you. it's a little late for that, however. you're already annoyed by the attempt of useless talks. "just get to the point, gojo."
and so he follows, sighing before he reveals his intentions, "i fucking missed you, that's all."
ex-husband!gojo, who's surprised when you sat up. although your room holds no light due to the black-out curtains, his eyes adjusted to its darkness, being able to see your every feature. your face, hands, neck, collarbone, chest — everything. he misses being able to run his hands through your body ever-so lovingly. when you lowered yourself right above his face, his eyes kept your gaze. your jaw's clenched. why does he look as if he lost everything? wasn't the divorce mutual?
ex-husband!gojo, who's rendered speechless when your voice cracked. he didn't expect it, nor did he expect you to say what you did. "i missed you, too." did you really miss him? he feels as though he's being lied to. raising a hand to cup your cheek, he shares his words, "really? then why not act on it if you're not lying?"
ex-husband!gojo, who happily accepts your kiss, moving his hand from your cheek to your nape. softly pushing you closer to himself — and to deepen the kiss. it's soft but rough. passionate but seeping with hatred. it's everything at once. you're pulling at his hair, purposefully tugging it as if you're using it to distract yourself from the escaping emotions. he's the same. using his other hand to travel along the junction of your neck and shoulder, squeezing it each time he feels to let the tears flow.
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gotham-daydreams · 8 months
Text
Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd part here.
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
------
Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
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Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
3K notes · View notes
suugarbabe · 8 months
Text
Unexpected | m.r x reader
prompt: Hii! How are you? This is my first time sending an ask and I just wanted to say that I love your writings! May I ask for a enemies to lovers with Mattheo Riddle? The reader is from the golden trio and they get into an argument with a lot of chemistry and tension. Thank you and I'm sorry for my bad english.
maybe enemies to lovers, like they hate each other and then realize that they are soulmates and then have to figure out what to do. some angst but ends i fluff please 
word count: ~3.8k
warnings: slight angst feeling, fluff, e2l, soulmate trope, some heavy petting
an: so there's no argument like the prompt asks (sorry) but when I started writing it just kind of flowed out this way so hopefully it's still okay.
“Go on, show us again,” Ron Weasley was shaking a turkey leg in your general direction, asking to see the words that appeared on your arm this morning. In the wizarding world, on the day you were going to properly meet your soulmate, the first sentence they speak to you, excluding their name, will appear on your forearm in their handwriting. 
It was incredibly annoying to you that Ron and Hermione got this mess out of the way the first day on the bloody train. To your and Harry’s amusement, neither were originally excited about the match, but after the chaos that ensued for the four of you by the end of that year they were inseparable. Nothing brings two people closer than tragedy. 
Things got even more frustrating for you when Harry and Ginny realized they were soulmates, leaving you the lone wolf in your foursome. Entering your sixth year this year you were hopeful that maybe you would finally be able to find out who your soulmate was, roughly three fourths of those leave Hogwarts knowing who they’re intended to be with, and you would rather Avada Kadavera yourself then leave your seventh year soulmateless. 
You grabbed the sleeve of your jumper, tugging it up to your elbow, sticking your arm out in the middle of the table for your three friends to view. There on your arm read a singular sentence, do I intimidate you, love?
Hermione sat back on the bench, “His handwriting really is awful, whoever he is.” You scoffed at your friend, “Not exactly my biggest concern, Mione. More worried about why he thinks he would intimidate me? Who would even think that? By this point in our school life you’d think any of us were more intimidating than the majority of the student body.” 
“Yeah, except Slytherin,” Harry snorted, Ron following with his own round of laughter. But you weren’t laughing, you were looking at Hermione who was sporting the same grimace and worried eyes that you were sure your face looked like. 
Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked at the two of you. “It was a joke, y/n/n,” Harry tried to ease the tension that was building. “Yeah, I mean, y’don't really think your soulmate might be…one of them,” Ron was anything but subtle with his tone of disgust, as well as his entire body turning around to face the Slytherin table. 
Ron’s actions didn’t go unnoticed by a particular group of Slytherin boys. “Staring problem, Weasley? Got a crush?” Malfoy shouted across the dining hall, earning laughs and teasing hollars from his friends. 
“Oi, Malfoy, got a present for you,” you stuck your hand in your school bag, pretending to roam around before pulling your hand back out and lifting it high in the air, giving Malfoy the middle finger. His face immediately turned into a scowl. The boy next to him, however, pretended to catch your gesture in the air and put it in his pocket, winking at you in the process. 
You rolled your eyes, turning to Hermione who had a look of disgust on her face, “Riddle’s ego really is massive innit.” All three of your friends' heads began to nod. “I swear if he didn’t verbalize how much he bloody hated us I would think he was flirting with you y/n/n.” 
“Shut it, Weasley, don’t you put that on me,” you pointed your finger at him, tone joking but words serious. He put his hands up in defense, laughing along with the rest of your friends as you all gathered your things and headed towards your first class. 
Unbeknownst to you, a similar conversation was being had at the Slytherin table. “Glad to see meeting your soulmate hasn’t deterred you from trying to flirt with anything that breathes,” Pansy took a sip of her pumpkin juice, teasing the curly haired boy across from her. 
“Dunno what you mean, Pans,” the dimples on Mattheo’s cheeks popping out as he smirked. 
“Show us your arm again, cousin,” Draco’s words causing everyone to look at Mattheo now. The younger boy scowled, rolling up the sleeve of his dress shirt. There on his arm, in beautiful loopy script were the words you’ve got to be fucking joking.
Theo couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a foul word in such pretty handwriting.” 
Mattheo rolled his eyes, pulling his sleeve back down, “Yeah, well let’s just hope the bird is someone I can tolerate.” 
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You let out a long groan, hands rubbing up and down your face as you leaned your elbows on your knees . Hermione was sat next to you in the common room, rubbing up and down your back, “The day’s not over quite yet, y/n/n. It wouldn’t appear if you weren’t gonna meet them today.” 
“Yeah,” Ron put on his best attempt at an encouraging smile, “maybe they’re another Gryffindor and you’ll meet them before we go to bed.” Harry nodded next to him in agreement. 
You stood up, grabbing your jumper off the arm of the couch and throwing it on, “M’gonna go for a walk.” 
Hermione’s lips downturned, “It’s nearly curfew.” You sighed, looking over at Harry. “I’ll go get my cloak,” he sighed, standing and walking quickly to his dorm room. 
After Harry’s return you thanked him, spending an extra twenty minutes convincing Hermione that you would be the utmost cautious and affirmed to Ron that you would stash the cloak if you were to be caught. 
Now you were quietly climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower. When you got to the top, you did a quick look over the railing. With no sign of Filch anywhere you dropped the cloak, laying it on the floor so you didn’t have to sit on the bare ground. 
As you got comfortable you dug in your shirt, pulling out a spliff. Hermione would murder you if she found out you smoked, however the year you all had to study for your O.W.L’s, you were so stressed you ended up buying from Theo Nott.
He promised to keep it to himself and you promised it was a one time thing, but you found yourself buying from him every couple months. You weren't sure if she would be more disappointed in your smoking, or you interacting with someone in the forbidden Slytherin group.
You mumbled a short incendio before taking a long drag. You blew the smoke out slowly, watching it ripple through the air and up into the night sky. You looked up at the stars, knowing the day was likely to be over soon and wondering if you were the only witch that was destined to not run into their soulmate like everyone else. 
You were lost in your thoughts and self pity. So much so you didn’t even hear someone come up the tower steps until they hit the top. You scrambled to your feet, ready to cover yourself with the cloak when you realized it wasn’t Filch, but a boy instead. 
The dark of the night made it difficult for you to see exactly who it was at first, that and the fact that every time he took a step forward you seemed to take a step back until your back was against the stone wall. When he finally stepped into the light, your breath caught in your throat. Standing in front of you, signature smirk adoring his face was Mattheo Riddle. 
You stayed rigid against the wall as he got closer to you. His fingers brushed yours as he took the spliff, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling. His eyes never left yours as he turned his head slightly, blowing the smoke into the night. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your black sleep shorts and house jumper. When he looked at your face again he locked eyes with you, almost like he was trying to read what was going on in your brain. 
“Do I intimidate you, love?” The words seemed to leave his lips without a second thought and you felt like your chest was going to cave in. There was just no way, absolutely bloody not that he said those words, the words you had been anticipating someone to say all day. Him of all people that could’ve spoken them. 
He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly looking for you to answer. Instead of some sputtering response of nervousness like Mattheo was expecting, your face just dropped. 
“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” Mattheo’s face went white after you responded, and that was all the evidence you needed to confirm that Mattheo fucking Riddle was your soulmate. He hated you. You hated him. How could two people that despise each other be destined to be soulmates?
"What are you even doing up here?" You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting into your hip. His smirk only seemed to grow, "I think the better question is what are you doing up here, partaking in drugs no less? Little miss golden girl."
You rolled your eyes, "What's that supposed to mean, Riddle?" Mattheo's jaw clenched, "It's Mattheo. And you know what it means. Wonder what everyone would think if they knew little miss perfect liked to come up to the astronomy tower to get high."
"Why would anyone believe you over me?" You were acting a little cocky now, but Mattheo was right in the aspect that you and your friends were seen in an overall more positive light than he and his.
However the look on Mattheo's face made you think he knew something you didn't, "I guess I could just have your dealer tell everyone, or are you buying from someone besides Nott these days?"
He was irritating you on purpose now. You grabbed the spliff back from Mattheo, going to sit where you were before but now leaning your forehead against the railing, “This is got to be some kind of mistake.” 
Mattheo could only snicker as he went to sit next to you, hanging his arms over the raining as he looked over the grounds, “S’destiny love, no mistake about it.” 
“Thanks so much, you’re being really encouraging about this whole thing,” you rolled your eyes, holding your hand out to him. He took it from you, filling his lungs with smoke again, passing it back and forth throughout the conversation. 
Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “At least we’re both fit.” You snorted at this, “Who said I thought you were fit?” He scoffed, “Please, I’ve seen the way you ogle me.” You found yourself laughing, a true full belly head thrown back laugh before you looked at him and he thought the smile you were wearing was actually kind of cute, “How would you know that unless you were ogling me, hmm?”
Mattheo opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse before you were speaking again. The sigh you let out let him know how stressed you really were, “Our friends are not going to like this.” 
He nodded, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, “Merlin, no. They’re going to bloody hate it. But s’not like it was really our choice.” You knew he was right, and you knew he was trying to be comforting, but the tone in his voice let you know that he was just as worried to let his group of friends know as much as you were. 
You opened your mouth to respond to him when you heard the all too familiar jingle of Mrs. Norris’ collar sounding like she was ascending the stairs. Your eyes grew wide as you and Mattheo both jumped to your feet. It looked like Mattheo is contemplating jumping over the tower railing when you grab his arm to push him flat against the stone wall. 
He looked at you with utter confusion as you grabbed the cloak before turning around and pushing your back flush against his chest. “What are you-”
“Shut it,” you cut him off, indicating to him to wrap his arms around your waist as you threw the cloak over the pair of you. As the cat walked on to the tower landing you felt Mattheo’s arms tighten around you, doing his best to pull you impossibly closer. 
He was decently taller than you, having to duck down slightly so the cloak covered you both properly. His face was tucked in close to your neck. His breath warm and tickling your skin as Filch followed after his beloved pet, glancing around for anything out of place. 
When he was satisfied, Filch turned around to leave, letting his cat lead the way. You waited a few beats, making sure they were nearly to the bottom of the staircase before pulling the cloak off the two of you and pushing Mattheo’s hands off of your body. 
“Thing comes in handy, that,” he pointed to the cloth in your hand. You chucked, “Yeah, m’sure your lot would get a lot less detentions if you had one.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we can’t all be like the golden quartet.” 
You scoffed slightly at this as you headed down the stairs, Mattheo close behind you, “We didn’t give ourselves that nickname, you know.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah but m’sure you all don’t mind it. Definitely gets you some favoritism.” 
You stopped at the end of the corridor, Mattheo running into your back at the action and cursing. You turned to face him, “You know, my friends and I have endured a hell of a lot of shite over the last couple years, maybe we deserve a little break when we’re actually able to do normal bloody teenage things.” 
As much as you were trying to be harsh with him, be the slightest bit intimidating, his height gave him all the advantage. Mattheo knew what you meant, what you were saying without saying the words themselves. “I’m not like him. Don’t clump me in your same category of hatred. He’s done things to me too,” his eyes reflected a bit of hurt as he spoke and you knew he was telling the truth. 
Everyone in school assumed Mattheo was just like his father, held the same ideals and wanted the same things for the wizarding world. The look you were seeing on his face told you otherwise. Your frustration quickly fizzled, instead turning into something closer to pity, “M’sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” he deadpanned, “Let’s just get back to our common rooms.” You walked together in silence until you had no choice but to split off. You agreed to meet each other in the courtyard during lunch the next day and you were racking your brain on how you were going to break this news to Harry, Hermione and Ron.
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To say you were nervous was an understatement. When you broke the news to your friends about who your soulmate ended up being it wasn’t exactly well received. Hermione was worried, but understanding of the fact that you had no choice in the matter. Harry was upset, but again was trying his best to be mature and said he wouldn’t interfere with you spending some time with Mattheo to get to know him better. Ron took it the worst, which you wished surprised you but he did have a flair for the dramatics.
You were first waiting for Mattheo on a bench in the courtyard, but you couldn’t stop your legs from bouncing, therefore you found a place beneath a tree, attempting to read the same three lines of a book Hermione had loaned you the other day. 
When Mattheo found you and finally sat down next to you, you shut your book immediately, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Godric, you’re here.” It didn’t go unnoticed by you the way a pair of dimples christened his cheeks, “Miss me already, pretty girl? S’barely been twelve hours.” 
You shoved his shoulder lightly, trying to resist the pink that tinted your cheeks at the nickname he used, “Not at all, I’ve been sitting here for the better part of twenty minutes, mind you. Thought maybe you decided to ditch me.” Mattheo shrugged, “M’always late. You’re gonna have to get used to that. And I would never ditch you, we’re soulmates, love. You’re stuck with me for life.” 
He had a childlike grin on his face when he said that latter part and you couldn’t help the slight notion of butterflies that seemed to flutter in your stomach or the smile that appeared on your face.
All last night you thought it was going to be difficult to fall for Mattheo, but maybe the universe knew something when it paired you two together. 
“So how did your friends take the news?” You tried to keep voice neutral, but you really were worried about their responses. Mattheo leaned back against the tree, “They were shocked for sure, Draco took it the hardest. He was more worried about having to spend more time with Potter than me being with you though. Told him that would probably be more rare than he anticipated. W’bout yours?”
You nodded, “Not as bad as I thought, actually. Mione was understanding, as always. Harry was actually pretty good about it, but very skeptical. Ron actually took it the worst, but he’s just protective. Basically like me brother.” 
“How d’ya mean?” 
You leaned back against the tree yourself, shoulder to shoulder now with Mattheo. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and you wondered if his skin was always warm to the touch, “Both my parents are aurors so they travel a lot. They didn’t think it was safe for me to go with them, so Ron’s mum offered for me to stay at theirs whenever it was needed. Turns out it was needed more times than not growing up.” 
Mattheo nodded, listening intently as you spoke. You both started asking surface questions about each other; favorite color (he said black), favorite hobby (quidditch), favorite class (free period). 
When both your friend groups came looking for you after lunch period Mattheo asked if you would go to Hogsmead with him over the weekend. You agreed, finding yourself wanting to get to know more about him. Over the next two months you went to Hogsmead with Mattheo at least one day during each weekend. 
You slowly learned that his favorite candy was fizzing whizbees, having to stop at Honeydukes every trip for him to grab some. You learned that he was actually very intelligent even though he tried to seem like he wasn't, as he was passing all of his classes even though he skipped half of them. You learned that even though Draco was older than him, he felt like an older brother to his cousin. And maybe your favorite thing that you learned, purely on accident, was that if you squeeze just above his hip that he was incredibly ticklish. 
Throughout all of this you still hadn’t kissed. You kept telling yourself (and your friends) that you didn’t want to, but the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for it. There were times of lingering touches; his hand on your lower back as he guided you into a building, his fingertips brushing yours as you walked, his leg pressing against yours while you sat next to each other in the courtyard or at the Three Broomsticks. 
Hermione, the ever observant friend that she was, noticed your shift in attitude towards Mattheo even before you did. So when she cornered you in the common room, demanding you tell her your true feelings it was almost a relief to let it all out. 
“I think I might actually like him, Mione. Like, I know that sounds like something an insane person would say, that they like Mattheo Riddle, like romantically, like someone who isn’t just some daft bimbo, but there's just so much more to him that he lets people see.”
Hermione can’t help but laugh, “I get what you mean. Harry and Ron are coming around, you know. They see how happy you look when you’re with him.” 
You tilt your head slightly at this, “What do you mean how happy I look?” 
Hermione just shakes her head with a smile, “Like you’re with your person.” You can’t escape the blush that creeps up your neck and covers your cheeks. Hermione’s giggling at you now, “Have you still not kissed him yet?” 
You scoffed, “Godric, no.” She pushed your shoulder playfully, “Well why not, y/n/n? Don’t you want to?” 
You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers, “I mean…I think so? But he just hasn’t really…gone for it, you know?” 
She nodded in solidarity, “Oh I know, trust me. I had to make the first move with Ronald. Maybe you have to do the same thing?” 
You contemplated her words. They invaded a space in your brain for the rest of the night, then the rest of the next morning, and through dinner, and even now as you stood leaning against the railing in the astronomy tower waiting for Mattheo to meet you. 
When you heard him coming up the steps you turned only to see him with the sweetest smile on his face. “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted as he enveloped you in a hug. “Hi, Teo,” you had donned the nickname on him your third or so time at Hogsmead. He gave you a good squeeze before letting go, his arms still lingering on your waist with yours around his neck, “What’d you wanna talk about?” 
His question was innocent, no implications in his voice that he expected anything beyond you wanting to see him. With Hermione’s advice in the back of your head you knew you needed to just act, as any more talking might lead to you psyching yourself out. 
You slid your hands down from his neck, grasping lightly to the lapel of his blazer. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the action, the smallest of smirks on his face. 
Without giving yourself time to overthink you pull him into you, lips crashing against yours. He’s shocked at first, but just for a moment before he responds, walking you back until you’re pressed against the stone wall.
One of his hands slides up your body, ghosting over your stomach and the valley of your breasts before settling lightly on your neck. The implication of the hand gesture makes you whimper slightly and Mattheo takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the curls.
When he finally pulls away you find yourself chasing his lips and he smiled at the reaction. “I think I could kiss you forever,” his forehead is resting against yours, lips still so close you can feel his breath on your own. “Yeah?” you laugh a little, smile only increasing when he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, pretty girl. Forever.”
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luvwestwood · 14 days
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❝ SAVE A COW, MILK THE ...!? ❞ - Choso Kamo
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— (18+) .. SEEMS LIKE THE LOCAL MILKMAN HAS A DIFFERENT TYPE OF MILK IN STORE FOR YOU.
ᯓ★ warnings. (18+), milkman! choso, msub to mdom, overstimulation, titty jobs, p in v, resolved sexual tension, oral (m rec), squirting, slow burn, praising, slight? creampie, suggestive language and actions
ᯓ★ notes. I made choso soo whiny in this I fear.. please beware, there is a LOT of irony in this LMAOO.. plus I need him real bad I think u can tell, anyways hope u all enjoy, this was my 1.4k gift <3
4,862 words (17m read)
please check out and support the actual artists piece on twt!/ig, - @/iamdebruh! + art (center of heading) is by @/yunonoai on twt.
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Eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and.. and..?
You analyse the countertop carefully, eyes flickering over each ingredient you had pulled out of the grocery bags less than a minute ago.
"Let's try this again.." Sticking a finger out, you point at the produce one by one, performing a routine of a silly head-count. "Okay- eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and…" Your index finger lands on an empty space that was yet to be filled, and finally, it registers into that brain of yours.
"Oh, how could I possibly forget the milk?!" You cry out in pure distraught, scanning the other countertops in hopes of accidentally misplacing it somewhere instead. Pretty useless though, as no sudden miracle was to be found anywhere.
Groaning, you bury your face into the palm of your hands— mentally cursing at yourself for forgetting one of the vital ingredients for the cream pie, how could you?
Hissing as you pace around the kitchen, you open the fridge with brutal force, head close enough to imploding as you rummage inside for a drop of milk to be found.
"There's no way I'm making a second trip. Not with these gas prices." You whisper to yourself, drawing your head back from being stuck deep inside the fridge, using the curve of your ass shut the doors.
Nibbling on your fingernails, you take one more glance at the ingredients on the counter; contemplating whether you should head back, give up fully and try another day, or….
ding dong!
Hand on hip, your head darts to one side, towards the sound of the doorbell. Who could it be?
Dragging your feet to the front door, you reach over by your side to the console table; digging your hands into the glass bowl for your keys.
Another knock sounds from the door, a deep voice speaking from behind it. “..Delivery!”
As you fiddled with the lock, you glanced over to the clock on the wall; reading exactly half past four in the afternoon. You weren't expecting anyone, really. You usually kept to yourself on Fridays, just to relax from a week’s worth of busy work.
Taking a swift look into the peephole, you could only see the glass covered with white— it seems that whoever is outside is clearly blocking the view.
The door opens widely, revealing a familiar figure you tend to see a few times each week— the milkman. You take note of the few beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, unable to be hidden by his cap. Did he.. run here?
Dark brown hair, tickling the top of his shoulders; cap embellished with "Milkman" just before the brim. Covered in white, bar his black pants. You recall that he goes by the name Choso, a piece of valuable information you managed to pull out of him during an interaction only a few weeks ago.
You must admit, your milkman was quite decent looking for someone with a position like his, and the cute bow tie encircled around his neck depicted him to look sweet and dandy. Wait, there's no way I'm swooning over my local milkman right now.
"Oh, Choso- How could I forget?!" You chirp, seems as if he came at the most ideal time you could possibly think of. "What a coincidence, just in time for my cream pie!"
His biceps scream against the fabric of his short-sleeves, begging to be let out as he tightens his grip around the neck of the glass bottle. "I-in time for your what?" Ears painted with a tinge of red, he looks shocked, more on the flustered side.
Letting out an anxious giggle, you point back behind you with the use of your thumb. "Sorry- I meant I was just about to bake a cream pie right now, and I realised I forgot the milk." Looking over your shoulder, then back at him, he smiles back; clearly flustered over the misunderstanding.
"R-right, I apologise, it's been a really long day.." He hands over the bottle, slightly crouching down to pick up his carrier that rested at his feet. "You're actually my last delivery today, they let me off early cause of the work I've done this week."
Holding the door open with your foot, you carefully place the jug on the same console table behind you, smiling to yourself as he went on a tangent about all the things he had accomplished this week— as if he was expressing genuine content rather than boasting.
"Well someone has been a good boy this week, huh?" You innocently beam at him, Choso's knuckles growing white as he clenched the carriers handle. He seems appreciative of the comment, but looks as if he wasn't used to receiving any.
"..Yeah.." Diverting his gaze away from you, he decides to stare down at the top of his shoes, until something you say has his eyes darting back up at you in a split second. The air so thick with tension, the two of you suddenly stay silent.
Humming before you speak your words, you ponder and wonder if your offer was a bit out of line. "..Would you like to come in for a bit? I could really use some help in the kitchen," Not hearing an immediate response from him, you add on, "You could have some of my cream pie afterwards. It would be a workout going down all those steps again, I assume!"
Choso reaches a free hand behind his head, scratching at his nape in contemplation. He knew that you were referring to the endless flights of stairs that were nothing but a nuisance to him as he tried to get to your apartment.
The fact that you had been the only customer in this entire apartment block, didn't have any effect on him though— as it was you he was looking forward to see each time he's out on the job.
Each time he dropped the same jug of milk at yours, only meant that his low lying interest in you would continuously grow, to the point that he couldn't think of anything else, but you. The man was whipped.
He wanted to get to know you better, but couldn't muster up the courage. He felt as if there never an appropriate time to do so, and the fact he landed a job as milkman, the guy assumed that you thought of him very little.
“I.. don’t know if I should..” He mumbles, anxiety and hesitation written all over his face— so easily read.
You roll your eyes, now leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, Choso slightly taking a step back to refrain from crossing a certain line with you so up close. “Come on, it’s not like I’ll get back to your boss with this!”
Crashing at yours for a bit meant that he'd finally have the opportunity to spend some time with you. Little steps, am I right? He couldn't miss out on something like this. Only a fool would do so.
"..I-I'd love to help you with your cream pie." He blurts out, lips parted due to solely being mesmerised. The two of you gawk at each other for longer than intended, but it doesn’t allow things to turn awkward. Was it the choice of words? The tone? What was it, really?
You blankly stare at him for a second longer than he did, nodding in approval. You had very little hope in him actually saying yes. "..Alright, come in." Beckoning at Choso, you step aside, noticing how he hesitates for a moment, just before he enters at his own will.
You watch as he walks further into the apartment, stopping considerably at a point just to not go out of bounds.
Your own eyes trail down his back, surprisingly so broad, that was now facing you. Having to peel your gaze away, you safely lock the door, dropping the key back into the dish beside you.
Grabbing at the jug, you make your way past Choso; taking yet another glance behind your shoulder for reassurance, just to see him trailing behind you like an obedient puppy.
"Make yourself feel at home, don't be shy!" You remarked, stepping around the kitchen island as you gathered the ingredients back onto the counters; Choso stopping just by the stools in front of you. He seemed all quiet and timid, even doing a double take before he decides to place his carrier on a stool beside him.
He sets aside his cap, politely tucking it away into his carrier before calling for you from across the island. “So.. Is there anything I could help with..?” Extremely eager to assist you in your endeavours, he found it so absurd that he was literally with you, right now, in your own apartment.
“I’m okay for now, just relax for the time being.” Your tone reassuring, you continue your current task as soon as you flash him another smile.
Swiftly putting some ingredients into a bowl, you still occasionally glance up at Choso— the second time round, you didn't even notice that he was already situated beside you, his hands gripping at the edge of the counters as he watched your every move.
"..Hmm, you ever made a cream pie, Choso?" You blurt out, carefully sieving the flour into yet another bowl. You must admit, your words intentionally had a different meaning to them. It was funny, and you knew he would flip out; his burning gaze at the side of your head being unavoidable.
His cheeks flash hot, words stumbling after one another. "I uh, haven't, no.." His voice growing small, you were right in thinking that he thought of a different kind.
Choso mentally argued with himself for doing so, as now wouldn't be the best time to feel his cock strain against his pants. He had to immediately swat the thoughts away, as they were already tight enough. "..Have you?"
His sudden reply had your sieving come to a halt as you slowly looked up to him next and you; just to see that he was still doing the same. Staring into his eyes, you try to think of an answer, swallowing the lump in your throat in the midst of it all.
"..No, I haven't." Your words come out in a whisper, noticing how his eyes alternate between yours and your parted lips. "I've never made one.. It's my first time today." Blinking slowly, you grow timid, your eyes making its way back to the bowl.
Resting your two hands flat down on the counter, Choso's breath hitches— his finger reaching down towards your chin. Guiding you to properly look up, he slightly crouches down to close the space between you two, and in a split second, your lips latch onto each other.
Eyes squeezing shut, you melt into the kiss, wrapping both arms around his neck to bring him closer; Choso letting out a subtle grunt as he hesitates about where to place his hands.
"I.. wanna touch you,” Resting his forehead against yours, his voice trembles, finishing with a helpless crack. Choso was practically begging you, and something about that just had you over the edge. "You don't know how much I've been wanting this.. I need you.. please..”
And he wasn’t lying. He wondered how your soft skin felt to his touch. He always wondered whether he would ever be able to have the chance to make you feel good.
Breathing heavily against his lips, you just nod hysterically, and in less than a second he slithers both hands under your ass, hoisting you into his embrace as he gently places you on the counter beside.
Your lips crash onto each others once again, Choso feeling up and down your body, his demeanor showing how much he's been wanting this for ages. He couldn't even believe it himself. You? Allowing him to have you? Is he dreaming?
A mewl escapes your lips as he cups your face into his hands, his ticklish kisses eventually moving down to your neck, the way he touches you seem so tender, and genuine, Choso didn't want to rush anything. He wanted to savour you.
He anchors himself between your legs— chest heaving so intensely from pure excitement. Meanwhile, you strip your top off, Choso swallowing a lump as he processes the fact that you had nothing else underneath this whole time.
He wastes no time, eagerly latching his mouth onto a breast, groaning as he firmly shuts his eyes, tongue relentlessly swirling around your nipple. His free hand fondles with the other as you comb your fingers through his hair, caressing it gently to let him know he's doing a good job.
You let out a string of breathy moans, a pop sounding from his mouth as he lets go. Pausing for a moment, you try stabilise your breathing, confusion written on his face.
"The sofa," You pant, Choso doing more so the same; his brows furrowed in despair as he yearns for more of you. "Let's move to the sofa.."
And he nods, beckoning you to wrap your legs around his torso once again, your arms being used as support to cling to him. You rest your head against his chest for a split second, allowing you to hear the ecstatic pace at which his heart was going at.
His feet stops just before the sofa, giving you the opportunity to drop back down, in which you suddenly grab his hand and pull him along. Choso seems perplexed, until you gently push him down onto the sofa by the chest, and he could do nothing but stare at you in pure adoration.
"Just relax yourself, okay?" Your voice soft, you kneel after he nods obediently, more than happy to agree with whatever you say.
You don’t dare look away, fingers toying at his belt buckle; which soon enough you end up undoing. Choso was about to lose his mind, and it took a lot in him to not leak right here, right now.
Tugging on the waistline of his pants, the man shifts his hips around to allow for more leeway. His mouth remains open as quiet, irregular huffs slip out, so eager to experience the very next thing you'll be doing.
Stopping as soon as his pants met his ankles, you smile, noticing the wet spot that had formed on his boxers— your hand gently rubbing up and down his protruding bulge. A whimper chokes out of him as he shuffles around a bit more, causing him to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress any more moans. He was too afraid to admit that anything you do has him melting.
All he could do was look down at you between his legs in bliss. Choso just couldn't believe it, and this was definitely not how he expected to end his evening.
His boxers follow after his pants, feeling him shudder under your touch as he comes into contact with the cold air. You shift around upon seeing his throbbing, leaking tip; not letting anymore time pass as you wrap your mouth over it, your satisfied humming sending vibrations to and through him.
Looking up to observe a reaction, Choso only slaps a hand over his mouth, groaning into it as his face returns to the same, crimson red; his other hand shaking as he tries to rest it on the back of your head.
Your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowing and a free hand kneading at his balls for extra stimulation— Choso endlessly whimpering into his palm as his head falls back into the cushions, eyes eventually closing as he floated around in a pool of pleasure.
Buckets of spit trickled down your chin as you continued sucking him off, Choso squirming in the seat from time to time, his legs unable to stay still. You decide to take another peek, looking at him one more time, and thought to yourself; he seemed cute with the bowtie still on, his actions causing a flutter in your abdomen.
"Mmh," Muffled, as he was too busy suppressing a loud moan, he gives up, hand leaving his mouth to grab onto the sofa behind him. His other free behind your head tightens its grip, Choso suddenly fucking his hips up from the sofa, his teeth gritting as helpless grunts try to slip out. "Cu.. I'm gonna.. Uh.."
Your two hands suddenly place flat onto his thighs as he fucks into your throat, Choso's array of whines intensifying as he feels his balls contracting constantly, his face so warm to the touch.
So helpless, his two hands sets its place into your scalp, Choso bottoming his cock into your throat as he lets out a lengthy moan as a familiar feeling he had never felt washes through his body.
Tears welling up in your eyes, you mentally note to yourself to continue breathing through your nose, Choso’s prolonged groan causing a pool between your legs. You feel a rope of warm fluid shoot down your pipes, your hands repeatedly slapping at his thighs for a sliver of air.
His head hauling back down, he didn’t look the same as he did a few minutes ago— Choso’s eyes low and dark as he pulls you off his cock, a questionable grunt coming from him as he takes note of your fucked up face.
He tried his best not to laugh as you shot him a deathly glare, and of course failed. His smile fades, turning into horror as he watches you slide his cock in the midst of your cleavage, lip quivering as you drop an orb of your own spit on his tip that was slightly peeking out.
Choso’s hands grip at a cushion nearby on the sofa as you began to clamp your breasts together around his cock, moving them both up and down— throaty whimpers instantly emitting from him as you reinforced the stimulation on his still sensitive girth.
“Nghh—,” He cries out, mouth left gaped as he felt yet another foreign knot forming in his stomach; somehow identical to what he felt before orgasm, but just stronger.
“It’s too.. too much,” His words come out in a whisper, Choso’s let’s stamping the sides of your arms as you were anchored between them— his whiny voice trembling as he felt yet another impending orgasm that was about to hit him even harder.
A devilish smile plasters onto your face as you occasionally stuck a tongue out to chafe over his throbbing tip, Choso only able to let out deep grunts this entire as he occasionally looked down at you in a state of euphoria.
“Agai-n, I’m.. cum..” Incapable of finishing a sentence, his tit engulfed cock twitches, much thicker ropes of white shooting up into the air, dropping back down into your chest as it splatters droplets everywhere.
Choso’s head feels heavy at this point, his eyes lazily scanning his surroundings as he spots you decorated with the white drops that somehow managed to make its way to your face too.
Getting back to his senses, he attempts to sit up, legs still weak but with enough strength, his first instinct was to tend to you; the same hands clawed in your scalp making its way back to your cheeks as he kissed you so lovingly, his teeth nipping at those lips that were wrapped around his cock a few minutes ago.
Him being the first to pull always, it seems Choso has a request of his own. “..Get on the sofa,” he instructs, no sign of a stutter left to be heard within his words.
Chewing on your bottom lip, you beam a sinister smile as your aching knees rise off the ground— followed by you throwing yourself onto the sofa beside him.
You watch as he slightly jerks his cock, his eyes watching you take your turn obey orders. Raising your hips slightly to make things easier, you stripped the last of your garments; kicking away your underwear to the other side of the room.
Choso mirrors your actions, kicking off his shoes and trousers as he follows with his knee settling between your legs. You look up and survey his every move as his fingers yank at his bow tie, loosening it overall— his hands still trembling as he attempts to undo all buttons of his shirt.
You giggle, reaching down playfully toying with yourself as you place a foot on his bicep, shamelessly exposing your pussy even more to him as he peered down at you in utter silence.
Finally stripping away his shirt, the bow tie keeps its place and hangs around his neck— your impatient self subtly grinding against his thigh— your slick evidently leaving a mark on his skin.
“Just fuck me, Choso..” You whisper, sticking a finger into your leaking hole that has been that way ever since you made out with each other. Your words examined his ability to maintain his composure, Choso felt that it was time you did the things he wanted you to do.
His breathing hitches, Choso sucking in a breath as he leans in closer, as he guides the tip of his cock to align with your hole. An unoccupied hand grabs your legs, hoisting both on each of his shoulders.
Folding you into a mean mating press, your arms encircle his back, your moans tickling the shell of his ears as he slid himself in— throaty grunts also sounding from him.
Choso begins to move his hips slowly, your mouth gasping at his girthy cock stretching you out completely— his face buried into the crook of your neck as his hot breath fanned against your skin.
“Faster.. faster Choso..” You plead, his hips immediately snapping into you at a faster pace, his lowly grunts returning to the familiar whimpers as your gummy walls wrapped around his entire length. Feeling him in your gut, you chant his name like a prayer, Choso doing his best to fuck you in all the right spots.
A loud moan slips past your lips, your manicured nails scratching at his chiselled back like a kitty and it’s scratch post. As he fucked you into the sofa, something similar to a growl was heard from him as you dragged your nails down his entire back; surely leaving an evident trace of you behind.
Seemingly not enough for him, he uses his knuckles by your sides to prop himself up- Choso grabbing your ankles into the grasp of one hand and pushing them down further and infront of him this time.
On the verge of losing his mind, Choso’s hips brutally fuck into you, his cock deeper than ever— a white, creamy ring forming at his shaft.
His heart races at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you down below, Choso almost hypnotised at the sights as if he were eyeing a pendulum. His hand lets go of your ankles, grabbing for the edge of the sofa above your head— cock drilling you mercilessly into the cushions.
You mewl and whine, utilising maximum strength to keep your eyes open and hold a good view of Choso, his free thumb reaching down to swipe a stripe on your cheek as he coos a few praises at you.
The position you were in as of now had been churning both of your minds, Choso admittedly finding it difficult to continue fucking into you as he was about to cum at any given moment.
“Fuck,” he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, eyes looking into yours as he studied your facial expressions, “So pretty,” Your cheek eventually fits into his palm as he fluctuates the pace at which he was fucking into you— nothing but satisfaction and adoration to be seen in his eyes.
His hips rut into your hole slow and deep, your hands grabbing at his wrists as you felt him bullying your cervix— cock endlessly rubbing between your walls, tip seldomly hitting against your sweet spots.
The legs of the sofa creak against the floor boards, eventually beginning to scoot itself to another side of the room. You couldn’t care less about consequences you might face with the downstairs neighbours tomorrow.
Strands of his hair stick to his forehead and temples, your fingers hooking around the strap of his necktie to pull in him closer, your lips yearning to have his on yours.
Your walls uncontrollably clench around his length, Choso’s head falling back in bliss; his mouth emitting short, overwhelmed breaths for a few seconds.
Your tits press against his chiselled chest as he fucks you silly, almost as if it was payback for treating him like he was clueless. Did you really think he’d let you boss him around?
Choso’s leans down once again, mouth sucking and leaving marks all over your breasts as he feels himself coming to one of his many orgasms today— buckets of sweat glistening over his physique like a glossy finish.
You grab at his bicep, slapping it repeatedly to give him notice of your impending orgasm— Choso planting a wet kiss on your lips to quickly swallow the ‘O’ your mouth had formed.
He instantly slides his cock out of your hole, taking his length into his fist as he pumps himself slow. His fingers fan over your clit as he ushered you to orgasm and make a mess, so desperate to have you cum all over him. Alternating between sticking his middle and ring finger inside, Choso curls his digits up as he jerks his fingers inside of you.
Your head peers down to see his forearms flexing with his every move, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; squelching noises coming from your pussy.
“Don’t…don’t do that-“ Your brows furrow, lips returning to its O shape as you attempted to hold his wrist as he continued to curl his fingers into you. He knew what he was doing. Choso wanted to make you squirt.
His pleas fucking your mind to an extent, it felt like a mixture of bliss and torture— your eyes struggling at this point to remain open.
“..Come on,” He urges, so needy as he strokes his cock as in-front of you as he watches how you unravel underneath him; Choso slapping his heavy length on your inner thigh whenever he has the chance. “Come on pretty, let go—“
“O-oh, Choso—“ You squeal, fingers reaching and scraping at his pelvis as he got back at you for fucking him up to overstimulation. Your nipples sore and perky, he had to resist the urge to suck on them again.
He spits out his words closely together, pressing his forehead against yours for the second time as you peered your eyes up into his.
“Come on, come on- that’s it,” Choso cooing at you as you released your juices all over his fingers, a sob could be heard from you as a hot flush rushes through your body.
His hand absolutely soaked as he pulls out, Choso nonchalantly wraps his mouth around his fingers, sucking on your slick— his saliva mixing in with the shining fluid that covered his hands.
Pulling you closer to his pelvis by hooking his two hands around your thighs, Choso slips himself back into your hole— your inner thighs soaking with juices.
A mutter of curses under his breath, Choso absolutely loved your warm walls taking his cock whole, his girthy length moving with ease due to the present slick.
Choso was on the verge of losing his mind once again as he realised that he literally got you to squirt less than a few seconds ago, his cock desperately throbbing all over again.
His cock fucks in and out of you, this time cautiously slow as he made sure not to cum inside of you— your clenching walls making it a difficult task for him.
Too sensitive, Choso pulls his cock out with haste, slapping his tip against your clit as he released his own load just outside of your pussy. His entire face flooded with rouge, cock profusely leaking; his grunts in synchronisation with his throbbing balls.
With the use of his tip, Choso pushes the load back into your hole, his cock completely stilling inside for the time being.
Your mind in a daze, you let out a sigh, Choso’s hand caressing up and down the side of your legs as he remained anchored between them.
“We literally just fucked off with the baking. Went and did a whole other cream pie…” You scoff, hanging your head off the sofa, an upside down view of your kitchen filling your vision— everything still left exactly how it was on the countertop.
Silently laughing, Choso takes your leg into his grasp, his head turning to the side as he plant a kiss on your calves. Bringing a hand down to your hole, he stuffs a digit or two in, scooping a few beads of his cum allowing it to coat his fingertips before moving his hand closer to your lips.
“..Milk delivery,” Choso chimes, mimicking his first words from outside your door earlier.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 . all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not repost on a third party platform.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!
[luvwestwood masterlist]
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msgexymunson · 1 year
Text
Rumour
Description: you share with Eddie, your older neighbour, the rumours you've heard about him. They might not be all fictitious...
Warnings: smutty smutty smut smut, lotta angst, tiny fluff. NSFW, Minors DNI I will whack you with a dinner plate, Eddie is mid 30s, tattoo artist, dom, reader uses sher/her pronouns, sub, fem! Oral receiving, praise kink, potential for Sir kink, a tiny bit of penis handling, p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) genital and tongue piercings.
A/N: well, this thought gripped to the inside of my thighs and refused to let go. I had to share it with you before I started humping my furniture. Have fun. Again I'm English so I try with the Americanisms, anything I got wrong soz babe. BTW ST 4pt2 never happened soz babycakes ❤ Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive (and my own heart beating)! If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤
Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
5.2k words
Walking back to your ground floor apartment after your shift, your feet aching, you spot your neighbour sitting on a lawn chair in the courtyard smoking a cigarette. Your incredibly hot, older neighbour. Mr Munson.
The neighbour that sends shivers up your spine at the mere mention of him. The neighbour that you think about at night when you're in bed, all alone.
No doubt about it, he looked both hot and intimidating. Not that you would care to admit but that was entirely your type. Mid thirties, broad shouldered, and appeared to be as confident as a wolf, and about as self assured. He reminded you of one; gruff looking, proud, stalking around, making you feel like prey.
He looked particularly jaw dropping tonight in a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up; part of his muscular arms were on display, covered in countless tattoos. You've heard that he works in one of the tattoo shops down town. In fact you've heard a lot about him, but that was one rumour that you actually believed.
Elbows resting on his knees, his messy hair fell in waves just brushing his shoulders, full lips taking a drag on a rolled cigarette. Peeking out of his shirt collar, between the waves of hair, you can see a skull like tattoo on the side of his neck.
Is that new? Oh God, he's so hot. Okay just walk past, act normal.
You saunter past him with as much confidence as you could muster.
"Hey Mr Munson." You nod in his direction, trying to stop your voice quaking, fumbling for your keys.
"Hey sweet thing. You good?"
Jesus, does he really need to call me that?
The nickname travels to the pit of your stomach making you squirm hotly.
"Yeah sir, just a long shift at the bar. Idiots tonight, you know?"
Mr Munson shifts in his chair taking a sudden breath in.
"Shit sweetheart, sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?"
Well, it couldn't hurt, right?
You flop down in the chair bedside him, gesturing for a drag on his cigarette.
"Can I?"
He smiles wickedly and puts his roll up to your mouth. The roughness of his fingertips brushes on your lips making you clench, almost rucking your hips up, albeit briefly. You hope he doesn't notice. Of course he does.
Taking half a hit you realise that it's not a fucking cigarette, it's a blunt. It's not like you'd never tried anything like that but it was  certainly not what you were expecting. The heavy, sweet, herb feeling lays on your tongue. Eyes wide you breathe out, coughing slightly much to his amusement.
He holds it out at you so you can take a proper hit. Sucking at the blunt so you can take it all in, your lips brush against his calloused hands, adorned with rings.
Breathing out, you gaze at him. His smile splits his face wide open, thick tongue rolling to a point, licking across his upper lip in a teasing manner. You cannot help but focus on the tongue stud pierced right through the middle of the muscle, a long stainless steel bar penetrating his whole tongue. You had certainly never noticed it before. It's presence made you wet, sticking between your thighs at the sheer thought of what he could do with it.
"Something on your mind pretty girl?" A cocky side grin plastered across his handsome features.
Shit, I was totally staring.
Blushing, you look away and try to change the subject.
"You know, you should really warn a girl before she takes a hit of a blunt."
He laughs deep in his throat. "I thought you knew! So, why was today so terrible?"
"Just customers thinking that I'm nice to them because I want them, not because it's literally my fuckin' job. Couple dudes tried to hit on me, one of them grabbed my ass." You sigh into the night air.
"Shit, I hope you taught him a lesson."
"Of course, hit him on the head with my tray."
He laughs out loud at that, throwing his head back. You gawp at his neck, sexy stubble running down past his Adam's apple. Turning his head towards you, he flashes his teeth.
"Didn't know you had it in you. Good girl."
Holy shit.
Your whole lower body clenches at his words of praise as you take in a shaky breath. The apples of your cheeks are on fire. Mr Munson gives you a knowing look, eyes glittering darkly.
You stand up on slightly unsure legs.
"Okay I'm- I'm gonna have a shower. See you around Mr Munson."
You fumble for your keys. Turning to your door you hear a gravelly voice behind you.
"Eddie. Call me Eddie."
********************
A few nights later and your surrounded by the rough brick interior of the bar, busy wiping down sticky tables. There's only half an hour until closing; half an hour and you can go home and rest. It's pretty empty tonight, just three regulars dotted around in the semi dark, nursing their drinks.
You haven't been able to get your latest encounter with Mr Munson, sorry, Eddie, off your mind. You liked to think you were a strong independent woman. You were 22 after all; having had to live on your own since you were 18, life hadn't exactly been kind. You had to be strong to survive. So why exactly was it that a few moments with Eddie had turned you into a blushing, giggling school girl? He had disarmed you with a few words and a rough grin and now you couldn't stop thinking of him. All he had done was call you a good girl and you turned into one. A simpering mess.
Doing a final sweep for glasses, you make your way back behind the bar just as the door opens and a brisk breeze blows in.
Oh fuck its him.
You see his broad frame silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, leather jacket hanging open. His wild mane is in a low messy bun for once, tendrils of loose hair moving in the wind. He stalks over to you and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. Dark eyes finding yours, he leans against the bar on one elbow, towering over you.
Plastering your customer service mask across your face; social armour to hide the nerves, you smile at him.
"Well good evening sir, what can I get ya?"
He grins at you devilishly, biting his lip, like he wants to devour you whole.
"What did I tell you? Call me Eddie."
"Sorry Eddie."
"Good girl. I'll have a bourbon, please."
Only just realising your mouth is hanging open, you slam it shut, cheeks burning. He looks at you smugly, like he's just proven a theory. Your body goes on autopilot, grabbing a glass, adding ice, measuring bourbon.
When you hand his drink over he slides over a twenty dollar bill.
"Keep the change."
You blink at him. "I couldn't, it's too much-"
"Then have a drink on me. I just finished a piece and got paid today. I'm celebrating."
You wouldn't usually, but you're on your own and it's nearly closing. Fuck it.
You pour yourself a bourbon, adding a dash of soda water to yours and take a sip. Eddie beams at you.
"Well thank you." You smile back at him, losing yourself in those dark brown eyes of his, watching the way the skin crinkles at the corners when he grins.
He sticks the ball of his tongue piercing out, rolling it between his lips as he stares at you. It seems like a subconscious movement, you're not sure he's aware that he's doing it.
"Why do you have that?" You blurt out, word vomit pouring off your tongue.
"Have what, pretty girl?" You're staring at his mouth, and he understands, sticking his tongue out at you.
"Thith?" He lisps at you, still poking his tongue out. Giggling, you nod.
His hand drops to the bar, thumb reaching out, stroking back and forth over the knuckles on the back of your hand. An involuntary shiver creeps down your spine at the touch of his rough skin.
"Oh, sweet thing. I think you know exactly what it's for."
His eyes are deep pools, inviting you in. Your thighs clench at his words, biting your lip.
"Oh."
He smirks at you, humming. You pull your hand away, looking at the time.
"Er, just a sec."
You move away slightly and shout out last call. Two of the patrons leave; the other walks over to the bar, slight stagger to his step. Serving him a final Scotch, he pounds it back and walks outside.
It's just you and Eddie. All alone.
"I've got to, um, finish closing up."
"I'll give you a ride if you'll have another drink with me."
You open your mouth. Then close it.
He pouts at you, looking at you with big doe eyes. "Please?"
Well fuck.
"Okay, just let me finish up."
You collect the rest of the glasses, wipe down the last of the sides and sort the nights takings, getting it all in the small safe in the back room.
After locking the front door you return, hang your bar apron up and pour the drinks. Eddie gestures for you to join him on the bar stool next to his. You perch on it lightly; he reaches for his wallet but you wave it away.
"No, I've already done the takings, this ones on me. For the ride, you know."
He shrugs, returning the wallet to his back pocket.
"So" you say, taking a sip of your drink, "you said you finished a piece. You're a tattoo artist, right?"
"Yep, that's right."
"Thought so, I heard a rumour."
"Rumour, eh? What else you heard?" Eyes glittering, he took a mouthful of bourbon.
You giggle "Hmm, well, I heard you were some Satanic cult leader in high school-"
He waved that off, "oh that's so old. If playing D&D is satanic then I'm the devil himself." He sticks his tongue out again, creating little horns with his fingers on his forehead.
You laugh at that, starting to finally feel at ease in his company. The bourbon helped.
"Someone said you sacrificed a goat in the woods once."
He nearly spits his drink at that one. "Now that's more like it, even I've not heard that one. Got any more?"
You blush, realising you've only heard one more.
"I heard you had... other piercings." You mumble, not wanting to say it too loud despite the lack of company.
"What other piercings?" He eyes never leave yours as he finishes his drink.
You're sure it's not normal to have so much blood in your cheeks. You can hear the blood swooshing in your ears. Finishing your own drink for courage, you gaze down at your hands in your lap.
"I heard you have a pierced..."
"Dick?" He ducks his head, trying to catch your eye again, cheeky smile on his face.
"Yeah." Your whole body feels hot and small under his gaze.
He just smirks at you and shrugs.
Is that a no? A yes? Now I'm dying to know!
He winks at your obvious frustration and says "come on I'll take you home."
********************
The ride home in Eddie's Mustang is uneventful. A little small talk is shared, but mostly you're staring out the window, trying to catch glimpses of him when he wasn't looking, eyes wandering to his crotch.
Pretty soon he was dropping you off at your front door, hand leaning on the door frame, crowding into your personal space. Just breathing the same air as him felt suffocating in the best way.
"Well, goodnight then sweet thing." He winks at you, glancing at your lips. For a split second you think he's going to kiss you, but he breaks away and turns to leave.
"Do you wanna come in?" Shit did I just say that out loud?
"You sure?"
You nod and he throws you a wolfish grin. You've never felt so much like a lamb in your entire life. You may as well baa at this point.
You lead him into your tiny apartment, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch, turning on a couple of dim lamps as you go. He flops down, manspreading, large hand resting on his knee.
"You want another drink? I've got bourbon but no ice I'm afraid."
"Sure thing sweets." He responds whilst slipping his jacket off, placing it on a nearby chair.
"You mind if I smoke? Just a cigarette, promise."
You smile at the reference, "sure, there's an ashtray just there."
He pulls out a pre rolled smoke, lighting it and taking a few drags.
When you've poured the drinks you make your way to the other side of the couch, placing the glasses on the coffee table. He offers his cigarette to you. As you nod, he shifts closer, holding it to your lips. You take a couple of drags, relishing the feel of his fingers on your mouth. Every time your skin touches his it sends a flutter through your nerves.
You watch him take a sip of his drink, seeing him press that perfect bottom lip to the glass. He drinks and puts the glass down. Not even looking your way, he says "something you wanna share, pretty girl?"
"Do you? Is it?" You say doltishly. Well done, real eloquent.
"You really wanna know, huh?"
"Yes!" You say loudly, bourbon well and truly in the drivers seat for that one.
He laughs and looks at you dead in the eye, another chance to make you squirm.
"Yes."
Gaping at him for a few seconds, your brain and mouth finally connect.
"Do you- did it hurt? What's it look like? What kinda-"
Stopping you mid babble with a wave of his hand, he simply asks, "you wanna see it?"
Brain short circuiting, you merely stare at him dumbfounded. You nod, curiosity well and truly getting the best of you.
He stands up and undoes his belt, sound echoing through the apartment. Your gaze is fixated on his large hands as they deftly unbutton his jeans. A glimpse of a tattoo teases you on his lower abdomen. His happy trail is peeking out, leading to the large thatch of hair that snakes down to his manhood. You swallow hard.
He slowly pulls his boxers down and you scoot closer to have a look. It emerges from the fabric, to your surprise half hard.
You gape at it. You've seen dicks before. A handful. And they are just that, a handful. This is more than a handful. You think you'd struggle to get your hand around his. The girth of it was truly intimidating. It certainly looked long too, and that was at half mast.
The end of it was pink and rounded, and the piercing went through the slit at the top, down to the underside of the tip. The piercing was thicker than you imagined, a curved bar with thick steel balls on either end. You never thought you would be into this sort of thing, but just looking at it made you think about what it felt like. What it tasted like. You wet your lips and continue to stare.
On instinct, your hand reaches out. You only notice when it meets the roughness of his jeans, touching ever so closely to his exposed member.
You look up at Eddie's face. He's looking right back at you sinfully.
"Did it hurt?"
"Not as much as you'd think. Ached like a bitch the first time I got a boner though."
You giggle, staring at it again.
"Can I touch it?" What the hell. It just slipped out, unbidden. You see his dick twitch at the thought.
Eddie chuckles darkly. "Did you seriously just ask if you-"
"Sorry that was dumb of me-"
"Sure you can sweet thing."
Before your mind can even comprehend what's happening, your hand shoots forward with sudden bravery, reaching out to hold it. You inspect the tip, looking at the piercing, feeling his hardness grow under your delicate touch. Inquisitively you rub the jewellery with your thumb, inadvertently smoothing the pad of your thumb over his tip in the process. Eddie hisses through his teeth.
"I'm sorry, did that hurt?"
"No," Eddie manages through gritted teeth, "just felt really fuckin' good."
Oh.
You back off, moving your hands from his piercing and placing them in your lap. He tucks himself away again, doing up his jeans, subconsciously palming his length.
"Well? What do you think?" He sits on the couch next to you, denim clad knee touching yours.
"It's really big Eddie."
He laughs, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa.
"You talkin' about the piercing or my dick?"
"Both." You couldn't help it. It had to be said. It was true. You knock your drink back, feeling entirely too sober for this conversation.
Eddie's mouth splits into a lazy smug smile. Finishing his own drink, he turns to you, eyes roaming over your body.
"So, do I get a turn now sweet thing?"
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "At what?"
Well, you got to touch me. Can I touch you?"
Your eyes widen at his brazen attitude, but you'd be lying if you said this wasn't the reason you had invited him in in the first place. The very air around you feels heavy, hot with anticipation.
"Ok."
You stand up shakily, mirroring his movements from earlier, unsure hands unbuttoning your jeans. Eddie's eyes travel down to your core, predatory gaze shamelessly wandering over you. Your jeans are a little big, slipping straight to your ankles when they're undone. You kick them off and away. Standing there in your tank top and tiny white panties you've never felt so exposed in your life.
Eddie stands up for a second looking down at you, eyes shining with mischief. He winks, and drops to his knees between the couch and the coffee table, grabbing your hips and pulling you to face him.
Sizeable hands hovering over the hem of your underwear, he looks up at you. "Can I? Can I take these off?"
You nod, cheeks flaring with heat.
Eddie licks his lips, eyes never leaving your cunt. "I'm gonna need you to say it, sweet thing."
"Y-yes Eddie." You manage to stumble out.
"Atta girl."
He peels them off. They stick for a moment between your thighs, slick and heat pouring from your core. The tops of your thighs are already damp with expectancy. Your muscles clench, pressing together with angst. Eddie pries your thighs apart slightly, thumbs massaging calming circles into the flesh.
Eddie presses a kiss to your mound, stubble scratching the delicate skin ever so slightly.
"Eddie what are you doing?"
"You said I can touch you."
"Yeah, so why-"
Eddie's tongue pushes between your folds firmly, tongue bar flicking right over your clit.
The noise you make is nearly inhuman, breath knocked out of your lungs in shock. Your legs buckle at the knees, ass falling to the carpet. He takes the opportunity to wedge his head between your legs, your thighs pushed as wide as far as the narrow space allowed, stuck between the sofa and the table.
His stubble is burning the insides of your thighs, roughly rubbing against your soft skin. Eddie licks into you, pushing his tongue inside your hole. You feel the warm wetness of his thick tongue and the foreign bump of hard steel forcing shockwaves of pleasure into you. The moan he rips from you reverberates in your chest, full of want.
Eddie groans into you, tongue making it's way to your clit, running in dizzying circles. The feeling is almost too much as you buck up into him, writhing your back on the carpet.
"Oh my God, Eddie!"
You can practically feel him smirking against your dripping pussy, getting his large hands underneath your ass so he can push his face into you even further. His tongue is everywhere, eating you out messily, hungry for you. The occasional rub of steel sends your senses into overload, hips rutting shamelessly into his face.
He moves one hand from underneath you and pushes two fingers deep onto your cunt. You're on the verge of screaming, tears gathering in your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure. The pressure of your desire collects in the pit of your stomach.
His fingers make you feel so full, reaching somewhere you've never been able to touch on your own. The rough sure movements of his hand so close to sending you over the edge, pussy grateful to have something to clench around.
"Eddie! Holy fuck." You cry out, an unsolicited tear spilling from your eye.
Eddie's mouth unlatches from your heat briefly.
"You gonna come, pretty girl? Come on, soak my face, that's my girl." And he's diving straight back in, tongue movements unmatched, strong fingers fucking into you. Desperate, filthy noises pour from your throat at the sudden onslaught.
Tensing up, you feel the unimaginable tight hot ball of desire suddenly drop. The feeling ignites through you like wildfire, coalescing into a burning, broken scream of his name.
Once you've chased your release as far as it could possibly take you, your back finally touches the floor again. Eddie moves away from you, sitting up, gazing at your fucked out form. Panting, flushing, sweating, you manage to look at him.
Eddie looks wild, feral, hair a mess, face covered and dripping with your slick. You can even see a wet shiny patch on his forehead. You giggle, dopey in your post orgasm haze.
"What? Have I got something on my face?" Eddie stares at you unblinking. You laugh loudly at that, pointing to where it was on his forehead. He laughs back and pulls his t shirt off, wiping his sticky face all over it before tossing it onto the sofa.
Your eyes go wide at the sight of him shirtless. Taunt, muscular frame, dark patch of hair covering his chest, matching the rough hair of his happy trail. He is littered with tattoos, some dark and bold, others lighter and faded. There's small patches of alabaster skin here and there. He's glistening, clearly having worked up a slight sweat just from the force of which he'd eaten you out. Muscles shining, catching the dim light.
He catches your lust filled stare and leans over you, caging your head with his strong arms.
"So, you wanna know why I've got the other piercing?" Sinful smirk turning his mouth up at the corners.
You crash your lips into his, throwing your arms around his neck. Desperate hands snake into his hair as you open your mouth to deepen the kiss. Eddie's kisses are messy but skilful, one hand moulding to the back of your head, pushing you towards him almost painfully. The need for each other is tangible, bodies colliding, rolling into one another. He sits up, pulling you along with him by the waist, tongue continuously dipping into your mouth. Finally, you break from the kiss just to breathe. It's like all the air has been sucked from the room and all you can breathe is Eddie.
He's kissing along your jaw line, down your neck; yearning, robust kisses. Heaving breaths are coming from each of you.
"Bedroom?' Eddie manages between heavy panting and pecks.
You gesture to the hall and he wastes no time in standing up, pulling you along with him, eliciting a surprised squeal from you. You wrap your legs around his waist, firm hands holding you steady, as he attempts to navigate your hallway whilst still kissing you.
Nearly tripping on your discarded jeans, he slams your back into the wall. You couldn't care less, tongue invading his mouth, pressing your naked heat against his solid bulge. His groans are so low they're almost growls, bearish and dominant. He takes the opportunity to press your form against the wall so he can pull your tank top over your head, eyes rolling back at your braless chest.
Finally, he carries you through your bedroom door, dropping you onto the bed. Unbuckling his belt and exposing himself to you for the second time today, this time he's taking his clothes off completely, standing in front of you naked in all his glory. Further tattoos cover his hairy legs, you see his thick thighs flexing. He gives you a ravening look; predacious in its delivery, with a smile that belies the lust in his eyes.
Quivering before him, he roughly widens your legs and slots his hips in between. You feel the hard shaft of his dick pressing against your slick folds, whimpering at the contact.
Hovering over you, one of his hands engulfs the side of your face, stroking down to your chin, holding you there. You stare at him open mouthed, consumed by the feeling of him rubbing up and down your wet pussy.
"You sure you want this, sweet thing?"
"Yes, Eddie please." Your voice doesn't sound like you, its smaller, meek. Your eyes plead with him.
Leaning in to you further, his hot breath whispers, deep voice on the shell of your ear. "Are you sure you can take it? Can you be a good girl for me?"
You moan loudly at him, small hands clasping at his biceps in desperation.
"Yes, please Eddie, I'll be so good for you!" You writhe underneath him.
He chuckles, biting his lip. "I knew you were into that. You got a condom?"
"No I'm on the pill, I need you, please."
"Holy shit." Eddie wastes no more time, rubbing his cock up against your entrance, strange feeling of the piercing hard against your slippery cunt.
He starts to push into you and your mouth falls open, no sound coming out. You grip his shoulders hard, trying so hard to take him. The stretch is intense. He's looking at you with concern, softer than he's ever looked at you.
"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt."
You nod, pupils blown, trying so hard not to clench around him. He bottoms out, the final push making you whimper.
Stroking your face, he gives you a moment to adjust.
"So fuckin' beautiful like this."
Your cheeks burn at the praise, lips enveloping his in a soft kiss.
He moves, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, a loud whine escaping from your lips. The burning feeling has been replaced with pure ecstasy. You're sure you can feel the steel of the piercing hitting that spot inside you.
Thrusting into you slowly a couple of times, you already feel pressure in your stomach, knots tied tight and begging to be released. The sensation tightens further, shoots of it flying down your legs and up your spine. You clench around him hard, moaning.
"Fuck Eddie I'm gonna cum, fuck." You pant out, eyes wide.
"Already? Shit you're gonna give me an ego."
"You already- oh God, fuck- you already have one."
He laughs loud and thrusts into you harder. Instantly you release, the ropes holding your stomach snapping. You come with a high pitched squeal of his name. You hear your wetness before you can feel it, a squelching noise resonating with each drive into your sopping cunt.
"Oh fuck, sweet thing, you squirted. Soaked me. You're- perfect" he groans. You keen at the praise.
Getting on his knees he pulls you bodily into him, slamming into you harder, hands digging at the flesh of your hips. You've never felt so full in your life, his cock piercing nudging your g spot with each thrust.
Eddie's grunting with effort, hair completely loose now, wild around his shoulders. Your fingernails bite into his flexing muscles leaving crescent moons in their wake.
"Shit, sweet thing, oh fuck."
Eddie pushes himself forcefully back on top of you, folding you in half, knees pressed against your stomach.
"Oh Eddie!"  It's just so overwhelming. You're full to the brim with him, satisfaction coating your insides, eyelids coated with emotion. Tears spring out the corners of your eyes, running down your temples. You're trembling, inundated with emotion and sensation.
"Hey, hey, you ok?" He slows.
"Yes fuck please Eddie don't fucking stop!"
Grinning wickedly he thrusts into you without restraint, slamming his hip bones into the flesh of your thighs, cock breaching you like nothing ever before.
Clamping down around him, your third orgasm is an ocean; wave after wave of sinful pleasure washing over the very fabric of your being, stripping you back to your bare components and leaving you breathless, sweating, and as exposed as a raw nerve. You babble, and cry, and whine his name, eyes tight shut, utterly taken by the moment.
Eddie's plunges into you start to falter. Feeling him twitching, becoming impossibly harder inside you he comes, spilling his seed deep into your cunt. The warm, rushing feeling just expands the length of your own release, waves finally ebbing and retreating.
Eddie pulls out from you, leaving you feeling emptier than ever before. He lies on his side next to you, thumb approaching to rub a stray tear from your cheek. You're both perspiring; glowing forms gasping for air.
Finally catching some semblance of breath, he strokes your cheek again, wide grin dissipating on his face.
"You ok pretty girl?"
"Yeah you could say that." You huffed a laugh, still trying to focus on how he'd made you feel.
"But you cried?" Its a question, but he looks concerned, hands attempting to comfort you.
"It was just, so much. Too good, you know." Taking in his smirk you say "don't you let that go to your head!"
"Bit fuckin' late for that" he laughs. "C'mere."
He gathers you up in his strong arms, holding you close, and kisses you on the forehead. The affection honestly takes you by surprise, expecting him to have bolted by this point, having got what he wanted.
"Can I level with you?"
Oh shit here we go.
"I've wanted to do that since you moved in." He grins at you.
"Oh, really?" You look up at him, surprised that he'd been feeling the same as you. "Well, same. You're really hot."
He laughs and strokes your back.
"You working tomorrow?"
"No, why? Are you?"
"No. I wanna take you out somewhere, if you want." He almost looks embarrassed. Almost.
"Are you asking me out on a date Mr Munson?" You smirk at him in disbelief.
"I mean, yeah, if you wanna. Unless you just wanted this to be a one time thing, I get it, I can just leave." There's a quaver to his voice. A weakness your not used to hearing.
You stare up at him. Cocky, confident Eddie Munson, was about as unsure as you were. You giggle.
"I'd love to go on a date with you." Smiling, you attempt to hide it into his inked chest.
"So, wanna take a shower?"
"Well" you say, leaning up on your elbow, "we could. Or..."
"Or what, sweet thing?" He rubs your arm, furrowing his brow.
"Or, we could do that again."
Tag list (please reblog this fic if you want to stay in the tags ILY ❤)
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
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jealous // fwb!chris
summary: your friends with benefits, chris, sees you with another guy at a party and takes you somewhere to remind you who you belong to warnings: smutty af so if you don't like that, get lost! semi public sex, fem!receiving
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Chris Sturniolo and I made a pact a few months ago. 
He helps me get over my ex, and I keep him busy. 
This pact was all about us getting something — sex. 
When we first met, I was in a long term relationship with a guy who didn’t have his head on straight. Chris was proudly single, but in desperate need of sex. 
After a night of crying and confusion, I tried something I never thought I would bother with. 
I texted Chris and asked him to come over, both of us knowing damn well what the other wanted. 
We had sex all night, sometimes waking the other up with our mouths all over each other, sometimes with his dick lining perfectly with my pussy when we cuddled that it would be a sin for us not to finish the job. The next morning we vowed that we would keep hooking up, only if we promised that it was just sex, and there were absolutely no feelings involved. 
I wasn’t too thrilled to hear about some influencer party that Chris was going to. I didn’t care that he had a life around girls, and I didn’t care if he was into them. What I cared about was him putting his dick somewhere without letting me know, and me suffering the consequences of him transferring something to me. 
I was even less thrilled when my best friend, Nick, invited me as his plus one. Don’t get me wrong, anywhere Nick goes, I’m usually there too, but the whole LA party scene is not my thing at all. I can last about an hour before I'm tapping out and wanting to be home. 
He begged and begged and I caved, leaving me to stand in front of my closet to search for an outfit. 
My phone chimed on my bed.
Chris: Why am I only just now hearing that you’re coming tonight?
Me: 🤷🏻‍♀️ Black lingerie or white?
Chris: Come over. 
Me: Can’t. Uber is getting here soon. 
Chris: Cancel it.
Me: See you at the partyyyy
After Ubering and searching for the way into the building, I pulled out my phone to text Nick in hopes of finding him. Before I realized, a familiar hand slid across my back, finding my waist and turning me around. 
Chris’ smirk was the most prominent feature on his face. “Hey pretty.”
I had to stop my stomach from flipping at the compliment, the nickname he has attached to me lately. It’s hard not to fall for him when he says shit like that. 
I try to act unbothered for the sake of keeping my sanity. “Where’s Nick?”
Chris’ head dips in a certain direction, pointing to Nick through a crowd of people. “I’m here though.”
I nod once. “I see that.”
“You wearin’ this for me?”
His eyes linger down my chest, focusing on the mesh material that leaves little to the imagination. A black mini skirt hugs my hips, inviting Chris’ hands to my waist. I suck in a breath before pushing his hands away. 
“Not here,” I warn him in a whisper. 
“Then let’s find somewhere,” he suggests immediately, his urges showing. 
It takes everything in me to push his hands away and search further for my friend. 
As the minutes pass, I find myself sticking close to Nick, nodding along to any conversation that he is involved in. He makes socializing look so easy, taking control of everyone in the room in the best way. Meanwhile, I look lost next to him. 
In hopes of liquid courage and something to hold onto instead of picking at my fingers, I head back to the bar, ordering a vodka red bull - something to keep me feeling comfortable, but hopefully keeping me awake and not yawning in everyone’s faces. The last thing I want is for Nick to feel bad about inviting me, and for everyone else to think I’m a bitch. 
Seconds later, I’m trapped in a conversation with someone I really couldn’t care less about. Some model talking about his work, clearly trying to impress me. The sad thing is, I know he’s trying hard to make me swoon, but this is what happens at every one of these parties. He’s not flirting with me because of anything I have to offer. He’s simply trying to make himself look good. 
I try to pay attention to his words, but out of the corner of my eye I’m able to spot someone’s glare from a mile away. 
Chris stands fifty feet from me, his jaw clenched and his eyes glaring at the man in front of me. 
Suddenly, I’m interested in this model. 
My hand trails up his arm, earning a satisfied smirk from him before he steps closer, his thighs brushing mine. I don’t even have to be looking at Chris to know his reaction to that action — he’s charging over to us. 
Before I have time to suggest us leaving this spot to get away from Chris, he’s already squeezing between us. 
His nose is inches from mine, and when they brush, I find myself thinking about last night, his nose rubbing my clit while he ate my pussy. 
“Who’s your friend, baby?”
My eyes could burn holes in his. I don’t know if I’m more mad that he’s doing this right now, or embarrassed that I was so zoned out that I don’t even remember this guys name. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t bother telling me. 
When Chris doesn’t get a response from me, he turns over his shoulder. “You can go now.”
With one look, the nameless guy I was talking to vanishes. I smack Chris’ chest. “You’re so fucking annoying.”
“Me?” He responds with a surprised tone. “You’re the one rubbing all up on guys in front of me. You expect me to just sit back and do nothing?”
“Yes!” I shout, walking away. His hand on my wrist pulls me back to him. “I’m not yours to claim, and you coming up and stopping me from talking to any guy you see is fucking pathetic. You and I fuck. That’s it.”
I watch as Chris’ mouth curves to a grin. What now?
“You’re right, we fuck,” he agrees, but his fingertips tracing my thigh in front of everyone send shivers down my body for more than one reason. “And right now I’m thinking about pulling this little skirt around your hips and bending you over a sink.”
Shit. 
I can feel my legs getting tighter, and I struggle to stand up straight. 
He dips his head to my ear, whispering to me. “If I pulled your panties aside, how wet would you be for me?”
I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. 
“Would you be ready for my cock, or do you need me to stretch your tight cunt out with my fingers?”
My breathing starts to falter before I can bother controlling it. 
Chris stands up straight looking at me and noticing every change in expression. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and starts walking me to the bathroom. “I know baby, let’s take care of you.”
I’m unable to form words. He continues to say quick hello’s to everyone he sees while I stand at his hip like a poor puppy. I give in to him so fast every time. It’s embarrassing, but can you blame me?
We make it to the bathroom, and after he locks the door, he turns around and leans on it, his arms crossed as he stares at me. 
“You know I don’t like it when you talk to other guys in front of me,” he warns. 
“I’m allowed to talk to other guys. We aren’t together.”
“Not when you’re dressed like that.”
“So now you have an issue with how I dress and who I talk to? Anything else I should know of?”
“I have an issue with you dressing in a mesh shirt and a mini skirt when you aren’t mine to claim, yes.”
“Well that’s stupid.”
“Is it?”
This is a losing battle. As much as I try, it’s obvious how bad I want him. 
I need him. 
He notices the switch flip in me. He knows exactly when I give in without me having to say a word. 
His arms uncross and within seconds they’re wrapped around me, lifting me to sit on the bathroom sink, yanking my underwear down to my knees. He ducks his head underneath the fabric, yanking me by my thighs a few inches so he can have easier access to my dripping pussy. 
He groans at the sight of me struggling without him touching me. “Such a pretty pussy.” His fingers grip the sides of my thighs, digging so hard I’m sure it’ll leave marks. He places a wet kiss over my dripping cunt. I shudder at his touch, and quickly grip his curls as he starts licking harshly over my throbbing clit. 
“Fuck, Chris.” The words come out in a pathetic whimper, but they only encourage him to do more. 
His hands spread my legs further before the tip of his tongue fucks me. My moans are uncontainable, and I can feel his smirk growing as I struggle to contain myself. 
I can feel Chris trying not to put his hands everywhere on me. The last time we fucked in a public setting, he emphasized that he did not want to put his hands anywhere near my pussy in case there was anything gross lingering on his hands. The animalistic strokes of his tongue on me are a confirmation of his ideas. The harsh movements of his tongue on my clit have me shuddering, gripping his hair as tight as my fingers will let me. 
“Tastes so good, baby,” he mumbles against my thigh, staring up at me before licking up my inner thigh, back to my clit. His head starts to move more with every swipe of his tongue until he’s making out with my pussy. 
Chris never fails to prove that eating me out is his favorite part of this whole friends with benefits situation. While he loves burying his dick in me, there’s nothing he loves more than tasting me and watching me falter as he pleases me with his mouth. 
My back arches and my thighs close around his face, brushing across the light stubble growing on his cheeks. “Chris, I’m gonna cum.”
He yanks my underwear down until it’s completely off, stuffing the pair of lace panties in his pocket and wrapping my legs around his waist. As he unbuttons his pants and rubs over himself through his boxers, he mutters, “Can you cum around my cock for me, baby? Be a good girl and wait for me to tell you, hmm?”
“Uh huh,” I nod. Any sound leaving my mouth sounds like a cry for help. 
The outline of his throbbing dick is prominent as he strokes himself over his underwear. “Stop wasting your time with the other guys and you can have me whenever.” 
I don’t have a chance to argue back with him. His dick is in his fist, red and throbbing. His tip is leaking like he’s been holding back from fucking me since I walked in this place. He strokes himself a few times, finding pleasure in it by the way his head falls back. Before I get the chance to offer anything to him, he spreads my legs back open with his knee and rubs his tip over my clit. 
A weak moan leaves my lips and I’m unable to stop myself from begging for more. 
“Please, Chris,” I whine, watching as his lips part as he watches himself tease my entrance. 
“You have me baby.”
I almost feel my heart expand, but I’m cut off by the abrupt motion of his dick pushing into me, stretching me out until he’s buried deep and I’m completely wrapped around him.
He stares down at us in awe. “This pussy was made for me.”
I nod, at a loss for words. 
He thrusts harshly. “Whose pussy is this?”
I wince. “Yours.”
“Tell me,” he demands with his teeth gritted. 
“FUCK – Yours, Chris. It’s yours.”
“Good girl,” he says proudly before slamming his hips back into mine. Every thrust is sharper than the last. His pace is steady, but it all changes when I wrap my legs around his waist with no intention of letting go.
He lifts me off the counter, holding underneath my thighs. His head rests on my right shoulder and I can feel him looking at us in the mirror. He pushes my skirt up further, revealing my entire ass. He slaps it harshly, making me groan.
“You love it, don’t act like you don’t,” he teases. 
I nod.
“Tell me,” he says as he slaps my ass again, harder this time. 
“Shit, I love it, Chris,” I admit, the words flying out of my mouth. “I love it so much.”
His hands hold underneath my ass, his hips driving up into me. Every thrust has a slapping sound following, and after a few minutes of a steady pace, I can feel him speeding up. 
“Fuck, baby,” he groans into my neck. “I can’t hold off anymore. You gonna cum with me?”
I nod, whimpering against him.
“Words, princess.”
“Yes, Chris. I’m almost there.”
As he presses closer to me and fucks me in his arms, I can feel myself going limp. My clit is throbbing and has been all night, and being this close to a release is enough to make me feel like I’m falling. 
“Chris.” My hands grip his hair tightly, like I’m going to lose him at any second. 
“I got you, baby,” he assures me. “Cum around me. I’m right here with you.”
I feel myself convulse around his cock, earning a string of pornographic moans from him before his pace slows down, his hips burying themselves against me as he pumps his cum inside my pussy.
“Ohhhh god,” he moans. The sound has become my new favorite thing.
He carefully sets me on the ground, letting my feet find the floor before he lets go and kisses me softly, the first kiss we have shared all night. He adjusts my skirt, smirking at the evidence of him on my legs, dripping out of me. 
“Do not wipe any of that up,” he tells me, a seriousness in his tone that I’m not used to. “I want you to walk around this party with my cum dripping out of you, and if you even try to let anyone else flirt with you, that’ll be your reminder of who you belong to. Got it?”
I nod, trying to find my balance before leaving the bathroom with him. At this point, most of our friends know what we are, and if they didn’t, they were sure as hell gonna find out now. 
I spent the rest of the night with Chris at my side, rubbing my legs subtly or making snide comments about how I was full of him still. I knew what I wanted, but some of him was better than none.
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steddiealltheway · 6 months
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Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.
He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.
But they must keep up appearances, right?
Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.
So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.
Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."
But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.
Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"
Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"
Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.
Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."
Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."
Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."
Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."
"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."
Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."
"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."
Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"
He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.
When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.
A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."
"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.
A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"
"My place," Eddie says.
"Why?"
"So we can talk."
God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.
He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."
"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?
"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."
Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.
Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."
Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"
A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."
"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.
Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."
Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."
"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”
Steve nods. God, he was a good person.
Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."
Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."
"You're kind of hard to forget."
Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."
The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.
Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.
"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."
Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."
"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.
Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."
"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.
That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.
They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."
Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."
"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"
Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."
"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.
"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.
But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."
Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."
Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."
"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."
"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.
In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.
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chrissshub · 6 months
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HE LICK ME LIKE A LOLLIPOP!
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who knew a piece of candy and date night at home could get you so…
pairings: wife!fem!reader x toji fushiguro
cw: sex mention, teasing, cunn!lingus, pet names, dubcon(?)
wc: 1.79k
words from chris: my first fic in forever! hope you enjoy and while you do, I'm gonna make baked oats :P
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Guilty…oh it’s so guilty but you can’t help it.
It’s your favorite movie on the living room television but you really can’t help it.
There, in the corner of your eye is a scene so innocent but a sight so sinful of Toji eating a lollipop. He’s so mindless with it, it’s almost so cute. But what wrings that adorable sense of joy into a dry, thirsty reality is the way his lips lock around the pink bulb, focusing all his attention down to a point.
Or maybe it’s the way your ear tunes into the delightful hums he sings whenever his mouth fills with the sweet confections, all to be washed away by a single ‘gulp’.
Your thighs have never been folded so tightly and your hands have never braced the black decorative pillow until tonight—a movie night at home, per Toji’s suggestion.
How could he sit there, a man such as he be—
“Um…Toji, I thought you didn’t like sugary candy?”
Before paying you a glance, he pried the pink lollipop from his jaw, leaving nothing but the glimmering wisps of spit to drip from his lips.
“I grabbed it from the bank today and forgot it was in my pocket. Used to love them when I was younger. Why…you want some?”
“No, I don’t think sharing lollipops are—”
“Aww, why not? You can just pretend it’s my d—”
“Okay! T-Thank you, Toji. I’ll have a taste then,” you sigh, leaning towards his beckoning side.
His chiseled arm laced around your shoulder, his hand bracing along its curve. The tips of his fingers softly traced along your pried jaw. His own sights bounced between the unfolding scene of your big, fluttering doe eyes calling out to meet his gaze and the sinking of the sweetened orb finally resting along the flat of your tongue.
A wicked grin cracked along Toji’s lips, hiding his pleased whims against the curve of your ear.
“That’s my good girl. You look so pretty using your tongue fr’ me.”
“Toji!” The squealing shout bringing his grin to a full-hearted smile. Toji could simply react, his arms encircling you in an embrace and his cheek smothered against your own.
“Oh I’m sorry Princess, just got a flashback in my head. I’ll behave like I promised.”
Shamefully, you nodded to his words as you gave into his warmth.
“Mm…my turn!” Toji chimed as he pinched the lollipop stick between two fingers.
Your eyes watched as he tugged the candy from your lips and back into his own, the tip of his tongue swirling about the polished sweet.
Seconds turned into minutes and those very minutes turned into the passing scenes of the movie on the screen. Toji earned your attention far quicker than the film, a fact that he could no longer ignore.
“Alright, you’ve been watching me more than the movie—and it’s your favorite…what’s up, Dollface?” Toji finally interjected. Toji’s full attention was placed onto you, that damned lollipop standing within his thick digits.
“I…don’t know…what to say…I just…want some,” you mumbled dumbly as you stared at the glimmering lollipop in the dimmed light.
“If you wanted some more, you could’ve asked. Here—”
You caught Toji’s wrist as he drove the lollipop to your lips, the sticky bulb pecking your lips.
“Oh, I don’t want that right now. I just…since when did you eat candy like that?”
The arch in his brow spoke more for Toji than what his fumbling words could. He returned the lollipop back into the wrapper sitting on the glass coffee table, folding what’s left between the colorful wax paper. With his attention clear, Toji brought his full visage to you with a newly placed smirk. 
“Huh? I’m just…I see what’s goin’ on here.”
“Hm? What’s going on—”
Before you could even finish your words, Toji was already ways ahead of you. With just a blink of an eye, he had your back pressed and arching against the arm of his couch and your chest smothered along the thick hull of his own.
It was one thing to be beneath Toji at his own whim, but bearing the heft of the accompanying stare was nothing short of stupefying. It comes without a call for regard, yet you can’t help but forfeit your attention to him and him alone.
 All his fascinations about you—the wants and desires crowd about the darkening blue hues of his eyes and consume his whole being. He’s even eager enough to close the distance that much more, pitting the very thumps of his heart to fade along your enveloped chest. 
All that stains the thick air is the staggering breaths plugging the lungs of you and Toji alike, growing until his confidence reaches its peak to finally speak. 
“You don’t have a problem with me eating this candy—hell, you don’t even care about any of that. You’ve got that look in your eye that I love.”
“And what look might that be?”
And of course, you didn’t need Toji to tell you—you already knew. It’s that look when stubbornness and determination form the thinnest of silver lines, careful not to cross each other’s boundaries. When your eyes peer up to meet his own, your pupils grow to encapsulate to contain all that tension down to a single point. 
The look of desire. 
And of course Toji knows that look all too well—he fell for it the very night you met and put a ring on your finger under a year later. It’s because the second you pass those eyes his way, he can’t help but give in to you. 
“The look of you wanting something. Y’know what I like to say—Whatever my pretty girl wants, she gets. So…what do you want, Y/N?”
The weathered palm of his hands brace at your waist, the pads rubbing at the supple skin as he makes a path to slot himself between your thighs. 
Toji’s glare flickered, the tips of his fingers drifting along the rim of your white t-shirt.
“Hm? You know I hate mumbling, Sweetheart. But I think I heard you want some attention, right"
“That’s not what I said.”
Toji shot a stifling glare back towards you, “So then what did you say?”
A silence fell over you as you searched for the unnecessary words. Nothing more had to be said at this point, except for the couch’s springs aching out as it bared the shifting weight of your lifted hips for Toji’s subtle tug at your intertwined pair of black shorts and blush pink panties. Your eyes followed his movements, the slow pull of clothing down your legs and to being tossed out into the dark oblivion of the living room. 
Toji’s cheek sank along your thigh as he waited for a response, his hands taking hold of the plush to trap you in his hold.
“Exactly, you don’t need to say or think of anything, Princess. Just let me take care of you, ‘kay?”
With a languid nod, you bit at your bottom lip as your body melted at Toji's touch.
The soft curve of Toji’s pout is the gentlest of sensations to pool at your navel and pull the mellowest of gasps from your lips. Just a kiss, a luscious one that’s carefully met by the timid bud of your clit. 
But he’s only this kind with you for a single minute. And in that single minute, he’s peppering those sweet kisses everywhere as nothing as a courtesy—an introduction, really.
However, the moment sixty seconds pass, his courteous nature sheds away. 
Why, once Toji makes the mistake of absorbing  the poor, pink bulb between his lips…he’s a man lost to lust. He can’t help but to induce a suckling tug along your clit, relishing the swelling throbs to strum within his mouth. Just to spite you, Toji lets the bundle of nerves greet the frigid air for a second as he takes a moment to observe the mess he’s made of you.
The tips of his fingers wander from the crease of your thigh to graze at the sopping slit of your pussy, begging for attention.
“Mm, n-no hands, Toji. Just keep doin' that, please?” You broke out carefully with a hitching breath. 
He shot you a glare, a particular one at that—a leering gaze, one riddle with spite. 
“I gotcha, no hands tonight.”
His words didn’t settle the worry brewing at your core. He’s agreed but knowing Toji, your terms would work out in his favor. 
Yet, your thoughts ran dry the moment Toji pressed his cheek back along your inner thigh. Just by the swirl of his tongue, he’s pulled you back down into ecstasy with a breathy moan. 
His tongue’s been waiting all the same to taste you, making no haste to delve between your folds at last. As eager as Toji is, he’s sure to catch every drop of your essence, allowing your honeyed pussy to meld into his senses.
When he’s ready to start all over, he lets his jaw come to a slow close as he drags the flat of his tongue from your hole back up to the puffy hood. He’s even keeping his eyes glued above, ensuring that you’re watching just how lazily he reels your twitching clit back into his care.
“Fuck…I wanna touch you s’ bad,” Toji whimpers out as he pulls away for a breath. The pads of his thumb drag along the puffy lips of your pussy, his touching lingering just beside the glossy bulb. “But if my lady says no hands…”
“N-No, you can use your hands now, Toji…please,” you whine, flashing a weak yet coaxing smile towards him. 
Yet, your pleas fall on deaf ears as Toji returns to his ministrations. He really had no intention of touching you—just like you instructed. It didn’t help that his eyes remained pinned with yours, those blue hues mocking your growing misery. But you truly couldn’t take it, that knot in your belly reaching desperate heights.
In the corner of his eye, Toji’s catching the rarest of phenomenons: your legs trembling in his care. It’s something he knows you try to control out of some temperance, but tonight must be his lucky night.
“If you keep moving like that, I can’t focus on you, Pretty,” he hums, pulling away from your folds with a lewd ‘pop’. 
“Then I guess you’ll have to touch me, right?” 
“But it’s more fun if I don’t. I mean, this is what you wanted. Got all jealous ‘nd needy over a piece of candy and now you can’t take it…tsk-tsk-tsk, that’s not like you, Baby,” his words marked with a greedy grin. 
All that could chime from your blubbering lips were whimpers, the ones that made Toji smile the most. Your hands came to brace the fabric of the couch’s armrest as Toji drove back between your legs, his grip on your thighs stilling your restlessness. 
And that’s all Toji did, just lick you like a lollipop. 
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equalheart · 8 months
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when you call txt pretty boy
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bf!member x reader, fluff © equalheart REPOST FROM HYKAI ⋆ ࣪. ୧ ♡ ୨ ִ ۫ ⁎ . hope you enjoy, any error please correct me.
♡ 수빈 (SOOBIN)
— "Hello, my pretty boy!" you chirp out when coming home, watching Soobin immediately stick to you like glue. His large hands came to wrap around your waist, enveloping you in a tight hug from behind. He really did miss you and had been waiting for you, and when you said that, let's just say you melted his heart completely. "Your what?" he asks, with his iconic smile on display. "My pretty boy." you smile, ruffling his hair while he bends down, his chin over your shoulder, to look you in the eyes.
♡ 연준 (YEONJUN)
— Yeonjun had invited you to watch him model since he didn't wanna leave you home alone today. When you got there, he left into a room to get his makeup done. You whipped out your phone and waited for him to come back. After a bit, he walked out and headed infront of the camera. Everyone was welcoming him and saying 'hi' as they passed by. You watched his every move. This concept was much brighter than his other concepts. It had more of a spring vibe to it? he looked like a garden fairy. When he went on for a break, he went up to you, leaning down to reach eye level with you—who was sitting down. "Jun, you look amazing." you comment, and he smiles at you, causing your butterflies to scatter in your stomach. "You're such a pretty boy." you add, and see his smile become wider while he looks away. "Heyyy, don't say that." he says, still looking away from you. "Or what? you questions him, and he chuckles, reuniting his gaze to you. He leans down and gives you a peck on the lips. "Nothing bad of course. but i'll make sure by the end of today, we'll both have this lipstick on." He says, pointing to his lips.
♡ 범규 (BEOMGYU)
— Beomgyu was 'sleeping' when you came back home. He had only put on this act only to see your response and of course, he wanted to scare you. when you see him 'passed out' on the couch, you smile to yourself and walk over to him. "Wow, I can't believe you fell asleep before me today. congratulations, Choi." you say. you figure talking outloud wouldn't be bad since 1. He's asleep anyways and 2. You are talking to him. "but you are so cute like this. What a pretty boy." you sit by him, smiling while shifting some of his hair out of his face. Beomgyu is trying to contain his smile, and his heart beat had become rapid. You always managed to make him feel like a crushing teenager. He almost broke out into laugher before grabbing your hand with a loud "BOO!" which, honestly, almost shook the soul out of you. You scolded him for startling you, which he apologized for by cuddling you and digging his face into your neck. "Y/n.. do you really think i'm pretty?" he asks coyly, and you smile knowing he heard you earlier. "Of course you are. you're my pretty boy."
♡ 태현 (TAEHYUN)
— Taehyun had taken you out for dinner right after a promotion for their new album. You both went out but since it was so sudden, he still had his makeup on. His lip tint was rubbing off, and his eyelids still had a bit of a pink sparkle to them. He was sitting across from you eating his food until he noticed your eyes boring into his face. "Y/n, what're you doing?" he asks, wearing his bright smile. "Just looking." You answer. "At what?" he asks, filling some more food into his mouth. "At how lovely kang Taehyun looks." you sigh out, looking down and playing with your food before grabbing some onto your fork. "He's such a pretty boy." you add, now putting the food into your mouth, chewing carefully. He looks up and smiles at you, pulling away from the table to lean back into his seat. "Yeah. I heard his girlfriend is pretty too, huh? a pretty boy and pretty girl together." He says.
♡ 휴닝카이 (HUENINGKAI)
— "You're so pretty, Kai." you say, smiling brightly at your boyfriend. He was amazing; the whole package I can't believe I just wrote that. "I know I am." He teases back, leading a small giggle to drop from both of your mouths. "Yeah, you're my pretty boy." you say, grabbing his face in your hands. You give him a butterfly kiss, rubbing both of your noses together before pulling away. You see his cheeks are glowing a dusty red, and you give him a kiss on each side.
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etherealyoungk · 2 months
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new beginnings - jeon wonwoo
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summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.
pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader
themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort
warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats
wordcount: 2.1 k
a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute
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you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.
you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.
"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.
"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.
but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.
wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.
it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.
"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.
"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.
you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.
you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.
that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.
you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.
you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.
you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.
sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.
you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.
"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.
"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.
you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.
he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.
"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.
"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.
"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.
"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.
"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.
you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.
"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.
you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.
"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.
"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.
"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.
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-bonus scene-
you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.
you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.
"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.
just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is
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949 notes · View notes
gyuzgrl · 15 days
Text
her //kmg//
summary- with your marriage in shambles, you find yourself at your wits end when Mingyu's infidelity comes to light. heated discussions ensue.
PLEASE WAIT FOR PT 2 I'M NOT LETTING HIM OFF THAT EASY !!!!
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Mingyu never thought he'd end up here. As tears brim over your cheeks, hurt evident in your eyes, he feels his world collapse.
Sure, he'd only married you because his father arranged it, but as your relationship comes up on its first year, he's developed certain feelings towards you. Feelings you can never know of. Feelings he thought you'd never return.
Your marriage has never been a point of envy for those around you. It's common knowledge that you and Mingyu hate each other's guts. You've made your peace with this- or at least you thought you did, until this morning, when your breakfast was interrupted by an unexpected voice message.
'hi, it's me- um I think you left your tie at my place last night... d'you wanna come get it? I've uh, I've bought that set you told me to get last week. call me back, kay? see ya'
The words ring clear as day in your head, even now, as you sob into your palms, hunched over in bed.
Filled with dread, you waited for your husband to leave the house, heading to work. You knew he would've heard the message- her message- sometime during the day, and so, you waited.
Waited for the call-
"I'll be home late today- there's an issue that came up last minute. don't wait up."
There. That same excuse you've heard night after night, for months on end. Your heart breaks when you realise that Mingyu's probably gone to see her everytime he had to 'stay late at the office'.
Although you knew going into this marriage that there would be no love, no romance, you couldn't help but hope. Hope that one day your husband would wake up and realise that he's been in love with you all along. Hope that one day the fighting and screaming would cease. Hope that one day he'd look at you like you matter to him.
Hearing the practiced ease with which Mingyu lied to you, you felt your last straw snap. No love, you could deal with. No intimacy, you could self satisfy. But no respect? Taking you for a fool, playing around behind your back, lying? You've reached a new low.
What's worse is, despite knowing that he's in the wrong here, you can't help but wonder what she has that you don't. What can you do to make him love you? How can you make him want you?
Mingyu's neglect has done permanent damage to your self esteem, and now you find yourself caught in an endless loop of obsession.
Evening rolls around and you're alone, in your big apartment, surrounded by cold, white furniture. Your house is spotless. It's clean and neat and unfamiliar. You can't call this place home. Not when nobody really lives in it.
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as your mind fills with thoughts of your husband's infidelity. He's smiled at her, undressed her, touched her. Fuck, he probably looks at her and sees the ghost of what could've been.
No, you tell yourself. You cannot possibly be crying over a man who doesn't care about you. Where is the self respecting woman you once knew? The one that would stand up tall, make her presence felt.
Hours pass by like this, and the house grows dark. You haven't moved from your position in bed- scrunched up, hugging your knees close. You haven't eaten all day. You haven't thought of anything but Mingyu's betrayal.
There's a sharp jangle of keys sticking into the door, and you know he's here. You can't bring yourself to move, can't be bothered to greet him like you usually do.
His bag lands on the couch outside with a dull thunk, and he makes his way to the bedroom.
You should move- pretend to be asleep so he doesn't try to say anything, turn to the side so he doesn't notice your pain- but you don't. You can't, rather.
Mingyu walks in, head hanging low. He notices your frame, hunched up on the mattress, and his shoulders tense.
"you're up" he says to you, as if to confirm.
You stay silent.
"y/n?"
More silence.
Flicking the lights on now, Mingyu takes a step towards the bed, now noticing the red hot flush of tears streaming down your face.
"hey what's-" he draws closer, arm reaching out to thumb away your tears, "you're crying,"
So you did end up crying.
All the mental pep talks you gave yourself about self respect and how he doesn't deserve your tears, clearly didn't do much.
You lift a hand to your cheeks, feeling the wetness of your tears.
"oh", is all you can manage, wondering when you started crying, sitting dumbly as if under some sort of spell. Your eyes, unfocused, stare blankly at the wall in front of you, and your lips begin to quiver.
"what's wrong? oh my g- please don't cry" Mingyu panics, reaching out to grab your face, but your words have him freeze.
"don't. don't touch me."
Your voice is a whisper, trembling like a leaf, but it carries a dangerous certainty.
He backs away instantly- "is everything oka-"
This time you turn to the side, facing him properly, and something within him just knows that you know.
"oh." he breathes, eyes flashing with guilt.
"when were you going to tell me?"
When he fails to respond, you push further, voice laced with a dangerous mix of hurt and rage.
"how long have you been seeing her for? goddammit Mingyu I know you don't love me- I know you aren't happy but god how could you do this to me? to us? you have to remember, I'm just a woman at the end of the day. I'm only human- fuck" you break off into a sob, letting your words, your emotions free. It was reckless- being so raw- but there's nothing to lose anymore...
You've already lost what little you thought you had.
Your watery, blank eyes tremble upwards to meet his, and you see his face contort with an unrecognizable kind of pain. You've never seen him like this before.
"whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- you could've taken it from me, I'm your wife Mingyu. god, I feel so fucking stupid waiting for you all this while to just love me- and you've been crawling into someone else's sheets? Do I disgust you so much that you won't even touch me to satisfy yourself? Do you hate me so mu-"
"don't you dare." Mingyu interrupts, jaw tensing, "you can call me a liar, a cheat, an asshole I don't care but don't you dare try and tell me how I feel- not when you don't fucking know anything."
Your brows pinch together, an insurmountable rage boiling inside you, and you rise to your feet, standing as you face your husband.
"oh, I, don't know anything? What about you then, Mingyu? What do you know that I don't? I'm telling you how I feel 'cause I fucking see it. I see the way you look at me with that unamused, tired look in your eyes, I see how you don't talk to me, I see how you leave your stupid fucking ties at some girl's house 'cause you'd rather fuck her than touch m-"
You can't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Somehow, saying what you already know, makes if feeler so much more real. You can't bear the thought of him not loving you, not wanting you.
"you think this is what I wanted? you think I wanted to look for someone else instead of touching you? fuck y/n after all the screaming and fighting, you think I didn't wanna reach out and hold you? everyday when I get home you think I don't wan- fuck do you really think I don't wanna talk to you and hear your voice and feel you?"
You shake your head, slightly afraid of how Mingyu's eyes have darkened, taking on a crazed hue.
"my arms would never have comforted you, y/n. You thought me a stranger. How could I touch you, knowing damn well you don't want me like I want you?" He stops, chest heaving with bottled emotions, and his words ring in your head.
'you don't want me like I want you'
Trembling hands ball into fists, punching his chest as tears stream down your face. How dare he? How dare he assume that you didn't want him- that you didn't love him?
"you fucking idiot" you sob, fat tears rolling down your cheek.
There's a short pause as Mingyu derives meaning from your words, and his eyes widen.
"y-you mean to say that you lo-" he chokes back a shudder when your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt in wordless confirmation. A hand wraps around your fist, pulling you closer, and your eyes widen.
"what are you doing-"
"what I should've done a long time ago."
A swift tug has you stumbling forward, right into him, and your lips meet. Mingyu's free hand splays against your lower back, dragging you nearer- as close as physically possible- while he devours you like a prisoner on death row receiving his last meal.
It's a messy, desperate kiss, but the sparks it sends flying over your body has your knees growing weaker and weaker. His lips cradle yours, sucking, tugging, pushing, as he holds you like there's no tomorrow. Tears prick your eyes once more, but this time it's different.
Now you can feel his emotions, feel his love.
The longing, the yearning he's felt all this while, comes pouring out into the points where your bodies connect. His touch sends fire burning all over you, chasing away your despair and replacing it instead with red-hot desire.
Mingyu's tongue pushes into you, licking at the seam of your mouth, circling your tongue as he discovers you in a way he never has before. You can't help but whimper at his actions, and you find yourself getting lost in him. No sound- other than your heartbeat, thudding in your ears- is audible to you. Nothing. It's as though you're underwater, and your hearing is muffled- except this time, it's him you're drowning in.
Aching lungs remind you that air is a necessity, and you both pull away, a string of saliva connecting your crimson lips to his. The rapid rise and fall of your chest tells Mingyu to give you time, but his body doesn't listen.
The taste of you is addictive.
He pulls you in once again, ignoring the helpless gasp you let out in response. Trailing up your back, Mingyu tangles his hand into your hair, letting his palm cradle the nape of your neck. The plush surface of his lips feel sinful against yours- leaving you in desperate need of more. His tongue swipes at the seam of your mouth and you let him in, giving him access once again.
The hand holding your wrist crawls up to your palm, interlacing his fingers with yours, and squeezing tight, as if to reassure you, as if to say- 'I'm right here, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere'
"Mingyu," you breathe against his lips, "do you reall-"
You feel his lips quirk up into a smile, letting his canines show ever so slightly, and he moves down to your neck, right below your ear.
Sucking harsh, wet love bites into the sensitive skin, he whispers-
"I love you more than words could even begin to describe"
His breath ghosts over your ear, spreading goosebumps all around your body and you shudder at the sudden stimulation. Pulling back, you look him in the eye, lust and love brewing in your own.
"so show me"
It's as though you've awoken something within him- something he's been trying to tame, to control. There's a fire burning in his eyes, dancing with danger, with desire. Without warning, Mingyu pushes into you, closing the space between your bodies, and you let out a pitiful whimper.
"will you let me?" he takes in a sharp breath, feeling your body against his.
You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and nod. Mingyu taps at your thighs, and you jump right away, trusting him blindly to catch you.
"good girl-" he rasps as his hand travels down to squeeze the curve of your ass.
Mingyu sucks bruises into your skin- neck, chest, jaw- wherever he can, and you let him, not caring about who sees them. You tip your head down to do the same, but something stops you.
A bruise.
He tugs you back, searching your eyes.
"what's wrong?"
"she's kissed you here"
He sighs.
"we don't have to do this- I've j-"
"no! no I want to- I want this god I want this I just- can I do something first?"
He nods.
"anything you want, my love"
Mingyu places you back down and lets you push him onto the bed, laying him down on his back as you crawl on top of him. Stradling his waist, you begin to unbutton his shirt, letting the crisp white fabric fall slack against your fingers.
"you're mine now, you got that?"
"all yours baby, only yours" he breathes as you part his shirt.
Your eyes skim over the hickeys painted over his chest and your heart twists painfully in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, and immediately Mingyu sits up against the headboard, holding your face.
"I'm so sorry- I- fuck we shouldn't-"
"no."
"baby..."
"no- I want these-" you motion to the bruises on his chest, "I want these off of you"
Mingyu nods silently, leaning back against the headboard, and you continue your actions. Lowering your face to his throat, you find a red-ish splotch, and attach your lips to it, sucking into the tender skin so hard it breaks, leaving a purple bruise behind.
He winces as you move to the next one, sucking harder and harder each time, desperately trying to erase the past. Observing this, Mingyu's face softens. A gentle, guilty smile stretches past his lips and he brings a hand to pat the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to pull you closer- flush against his bare chest.
A yelp escapes you as you lose your balance, falling forward into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you still as he says-
"I'm yours," He squeezes around you, nuzzling into your neck, "I can't change the past, and I'm sorry for everything I've done- sorry for hurting you the way I did"
You can feel how rapidly his heart thuds against his chest, beating on the door of his ribcage as if it wants to be let out, as if it wants to jump out of his chest, into your hands.
"it hurts," you sniffle, "it really hurts"
His fingers rub soothing circles into your skin, trying to melt away your pain, feeling his own heart shatter into a million pieces. This is of his own doing, though. Only he is to blame.
"lemme make you feel good, hm? let me show you how much you really mean to me,"
You nod, letting him move you as he pleases, until you're under him, nestled comfortably between the pillows, with him hovering over you. The veins of his forearms tense deliciously as they hold his weight, and you feel your body grow hot.
Soft moans slip out of your mouth when he lowers his face into the crook of your neck, sucking red marks into you- gentle, yet firm. His lips suction your skin, teeth nipping at the chosen spot until your skin breaks, before letting his tongue soothe over the crimson bruise.
Like this, he carves a path down your neck to the collar of your shirt, stopping right at your cleavage.
"this okay, my love?" he stares up at you, one hand shifting to tickle the hem of your shirt
"mhm"
Gently, like you're made of glass, he undresses you, gasping when he realises that you're bare underneath.
Your skin catches him off-guard, and Mingyu finds himself transfixed. Like an anchorite discovering the face of God, he stares at you in wonder, in awe, finally feeling complete.
The intensity of his stare has you nervous, and you lift your arms to cover yourself.
"do-don't stare," you mumble, cheeks growing hot as his eyes burn holes into your skin.
"can't help myself- you're so beautiful,"
"Mingyu please," you whimper, feeling wetness pool between your legs, "I need you"
Feverish hands roam over you, and his head dips into the valley of your breasts, pressing soft, wet kisses to your skin. Mingyu closes in on your breast, letting his teeth nip gently at your hardened nipple, and you gasp, feeling your body light up at the motion.
He grins against you, repeating the action and you let out a trembling whimper.
"don't tease" you plead, threading your fingers through his hair, "need you so bad Gyu,"
"I could kiss you all my life and never get enough,"
Enough said. You tug him up, pushing your lips together once again in a messy kiss. Mingyu grinds into you, and you gasp at the prominent bulge poking out of his trousers. He uses this to his advantage, pushing his tongue into you, letting the wet muscle trace over the corners of your mouth as if to memorise every texture, every taste.
You chest flutters, and you whimper into his mouth, almost losing your composure when he begins to carve a path from your lips to your stomach, leaving gentle kisses down your collarbones, chest, tummy.
Stopping at the waistband of your shorts, Mingyu looks up at you, eyes practically begging that you allow him to undress you.
"please" you whisper, head tipping back into the pillows when his hands smooth down your sides, hooking under your shorts to pull them off. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he tugs the fabric down, tantalisingly slow.
The sensuality, the intimacy of this act finally becomes known to you, when your eyes stay stitched together, as if connected by string.
Once you're left completely bare, at his mercy, he kneels.
At the foot of the bed, as if it is your alter, Mingyu kneels, letting your ankles rest on his broad shoulders. He presses tender kisses to your limbs; ankles, calves, thighs, making his way up to his very own pot of gold.
Liquid gold.
"baby you're dripping-" he groans, almost frustrated with how stunning you look, splayed out and wet, all for him.
His kisses inch closer and closer, moving from your thighs to the tender flesh right next to your sex.
You know what comes next.
"oh"
Your lips part, settling into an 'o' shape, when Mingyu licks a long, fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit to prod gentle circles with the tip of his tongue.
For a man who's hasn't as much as kissed you before, he sure knows how to work your body.
Perhaps you were just made for one another.
You feel the thick trickle of arousal seeping out of your hole, and Mingyu laps it up, letting his tongue dip into you slightly, curling up to cup every last drop.
"fuck you taste divine," he groans, voice low and gruff, "better than everything I've imagined-"
Your heart swells.
"you thought abou- f-fuck Mingyu right there"
He smirks against your cunt, humming a quick affirmation that sends a jolt up your spine.
"thought of you every night, wanted to hold you, feel you-"
You gasp, gulping thickly at his words, and your mind grows fuzzy, filled with cotton as you feel your body beginning to float away.
Mingyu brings his lips around your clit, suctioning the sensitive bud out of its hiding as his tongue laps at it. Your grip on his hair tightens, and your mouth hangs open- whimpers slipping out, beyond your control.
Without warning, Mingyu slips a finger into you, pushing his way in. Your back arches off the bed, and your hips snap up, but he holds you down, basking in the long drawn moan he manages to rip from your throat.
The stretch of your walls around his digit has you whimpering and writhing under him, and you can't help but wonder how big his cock is, how it would split you open for good if his fingers are already almost too much.
As if he read your thoughts, Mingyu winces at the way you suck him in.
"so fuckin' tight-" he gasps, jaw dropping in awe at how your tiny little cunt stretches to accomodate a single finger.
With the way Mingyu worked his tongue against you, and his finger into you, it's no wonder your orgasm begins to build. You feel your body tense, on the verge of release, limbs and stomach tightening as he works against you.
"please- don't sto- oh" you shudder when his tongue presses harder.
The great wave of pleasure rises, up and up, higher and higher, ready to come crashing down any moment now, when suddenly, he plunges a second finger into you, ripping your orgasm out of you with such force, your legs tremble as a string of moans and profanities leave your parted lips.
Mingyu scissors into you, fucking you through your orgasm, as your arousal drips down his fingers, down his wrist. Your legs shake uncontrollably as he pistons in and out of you, and you shudder.
"w-wait I'm still-"
"sensitive? mm I can tell" he smirks, lowering his face back to your cunt, tongue lapping at your juices eagerly.
He prods the muscle into you, bullying it's way beside his fingers to collect the remnants of your orgasm.
"fu-" you gasp, feeling your body convulse.
Cupping his tongue, Mingyu drags your wetness up your folds, spreading it over your clit before licking firm circles around the sensitive bud.
You moan, helplessly, and your body is ablaze, nerves standing on edge from the intensity of your previous orgasm.
As he continues his assault on your overstimulated sex, you feel another orgasm build at record speed.
Feeling you clench up around his fingers, Mingyu pushes harder, licking tighter circles into your clit, and you come undone within seconds- shocking both yourself and him.
"that's it, that's my good girl," he sighs, secretly in awe of how responsive you are to his touch.
He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whimper at the sudden loss.
"patience," he soothes, tongue trailing up his wrist to the tip of his finger, taking in your arousal.
Your breath hitches at his actions.
"you taste too fucking good to waste any of this"
Rising off the floor, he licks his lips, staring down at you with adoration painted plain as day on his handsome face.
His knee presses between your legs, and you feel the bed dip under his weight. Swift hands unbuckle his belt, undoing the clasp with one hand while the other works at his buttons.
Before you know it, Mingyu's pants are off, leaving him in plain black boxers and an opened shirt. He peels his top off, tossing it to the side, staring into your eyes.
"you can touch," he rasps, tugging you up to sit before his naked torso.
Your body listens before your brain can comprehend his words, and you let his hand pull your wrist up, placing your palm flush against his abs.
Your jaw drops.
He's rock solid. Years of hard work and dedication have defined the ridges of his muscles, and your mouth waters at the sight. You trace over each contour, each ridge, before turning your attention to his arms.
Those were another story altogether...
The thick, sturdy flesh of his biceps tense under your touch, rippling as your fingers pushing into them, testing how firm they really are.
answer: very.
Your nails rake down his arm, drawing over his veins, and he sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his cock grow painfully hard.
You notice, and tug his boxers off, gasping when you see his cock spring free.
It's huge. It's long and thick and veiny, flushed red at the tip with pent up energy. You bring your hand to stroke it as gently as possible, and he hisses, hips startling when you make contact with his dick
"baby," he pleads, using one hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, "say it again"
You're confused for a moment before realisation hits.
He wanted you to say that you-
"I love you," you state, loud and clear.
His eyes darken, jaw tensing as he grits out, "again."
Mingyu pushes you down, laying you on your back, and you speak, voice meeker than before.
"I love you,"
He let's out a shaky breath.
"again"
"I love y-"your voice is a whisper now, cutting off into a stunned gasp when he pushes into you.
"oh my god," you tremble, your voice small and frail.
The girth of his cock is nothing like you've ever felt before- not with other men, not even with the toys you use. He eases himself into your tight cunt, going as slowly as his body let's him, and your eyes screw shut.
"uh uh, eyes on me,"
You look up at him, eyes wide as your brows scrunch up. Your jaw falls slack, and you can't stop your throat from opening up to release the filthiest sounds known to man.
"that's it, shh- takin' me so good," he shudders, eyes honed in on the way your face contorts in pleasure.
With each inch his pushes further, your thoughts disappear one by one, until all that's left is him.
"Mingyu" you choke out, nails clawing at his exposed back, "I love you"
Whatever seemed to have been holding him back snaps for good, and he bottoms out in one swift motion, earning a loud moan in response.
You feel your lungs burn as he pulls all the air out of you, feel how deep he is inside you.
Mingyu pulls out, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, before slamming back in, one hand on your hip, pulling your body closer, harder.
His head drops to the spot below your ear and he let's his teeth graze the delicate cartilage.
"I love you," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I love you so much,"
Angling his hips, he pulls your thighs up over his back, and his cock burrows deeper inside you, hitting a spot no one ever has before.
"Mingy- oh my godd" you drawl, voice shaking as he thrusts into you with force enough to power a tiny village.
The sheer girth of his cock has your walls pressing into him, squeezing so tight you can feel each ridge and furrow of his veins.
"so fuckin' perfect- m-made just for me-" His voice is a whisper. He pants into your ear, groaning everytime you squeeze around him.
The solid, steady snap of his hips into you has your head spinning. His size has you losing your mind, and soon enough, you're thoughts are limited to him.
"Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu-" you sob, tears streaming down your face at how he abuses your cunt, how he makes you feel so fucking good.
"I know, pretty, I know," he soothes, pressing a kiss to the spot under your ear, before pulling himself up to look at you again.
The sight before him has his eyes widening. It's as if his world stops. Hair fluttering around your face, skin glistening with a thin film of sweat, lips red and parted as you moan his name through thick sobs and teary, glistening eyes- fuck, how could a person be this beautiful?
"I love you," he shudders, looking you in the eye as his hand trails down to fiddle with your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the flesh.
Your head falls back, tipping into the pillows, and you choke out a strangled- "I love y- m'all yours Mingyu"
Gaining newfound access to your throat, Mingyu kisses greedily at the exposed skin, groaning as your cunt clenches down around him.
Your sounds- nothing short of pure sin- echo around the room, bouncing off the walls. The air is heavy, steaming up with the heat emanating off of your bodies. After all this time, the wait is over. He's finally yours.
As your moans turn shrill, increasing in volume and pitch, Mingyu's own voice grows breathier, and you know you're both close.
On the verge of falling deep into the cool black embrace of pleasure, you clutch desperately at each other, rutting into one another as if there was no tomorrow.
His thrusts grow sloppy as your cunt clamps down on him, and you feel your orgasms rip out of you like a whirlwind. You claw at his back as your body shakes under him, releasing your third orgasm, and he groans deeply into, riding through his own high.
Hot spurts of cum dribble out of you, forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock- still thrusting into you.
"f-fuck Ming- please," you blubber, tears staining your cheeks, "s'too much-"
His hips halt their reckless movement, and he pulls out of you, watching as your combined orgasms trickle out of your hole.
"too much?" he asks, bringing a hand up to stroke you cheek so lovingly your heart melts.
"mhm," You nuzzle into his palm, "but it was perfect."
For a moment he stares into your eyes, guilt panging in his chest at how you look at him with so much love, despite all that he's done.
"we'll talk over breakfast tomorrow, hm? let's just- let's just stay like this for now"
You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed, and he shuffles beside you, pulling your limp frame into his chest.
The haphazard thudding of his heart tells you how nervous he is, how he's afraid to lose you, and you smile.
"hey," he mumbles, sleep taking over.
You hum and it reverberate in his chest.
"I love you"
"I love you too, Gyu"
"I'll spend the rest of my life making up for how we started," he places a soft kiss to your forehead and you mumble something incomprehensible, already drifting off to sleep.
A fond smile takes over his lips, and he sighs.
You're the best thing to have happened to him.
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