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#STILL TRYING TO GET MY SPRING STUFF DONE. AND ITS ALMOST FALL. SO :]
dhmis-autism · 9 months
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SORRY. JUST REALIZED I ORIGINALLY SKETCHED THE STUFF FROM THAT LAST WIP POST IN. MARCH.
GODDDD...
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#I GUESS MY WRIST FUCKING UP PUT ME FURTHER BACK THAN I THOUGHT#but also like. i was JUST talking about it in chat. i have a comic about the Three Of Them that i wrote in a frenzy in FEBUARY.#by the time i rewrote the dialogue and figured out the ending it was SEVEN FUCKING PAGES. SOLID.#OF JUST SCRIPT.#I STILL HAVENT EVEN FINISHED SKETCHING IT. YOU GUYS ARE NOT SEEING THAT SHIT UNTIL 2024#sometimes an idea of them will grasp me and i will just write the script out in the middle of the night#I realistically. dont even know if you guys are gonna like my scripted stuff.#the first scripted thing i wrote was a yellow&duck comic that im STILL SKETCHING BACKGROUNDS ON#i could be really bad at writing for them. i could totally not get them at all.#but hey!#we'll see when we see I guess#BUT YEAH UH. SORRY FOR LITERALLY ALL I POST BEING WIPS NOWADAYS I AM JUST WORKING ON LIKE 5 DIFFERENT DRAWINGS AT ONCE#STILL TRYING TO GET MY SPRING STUFF DONE. AND ITS ALMOST FALL. SO :]#I JUST CARE SO MUCH ABT THOSE PUPPETS DAWG I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR THEM#I HAVE!!! EVEN MORE DRAWINGS THAT I JUST HAVENT SHARED!!! bc i either made them for something real specific in the discord#or bc theyre phone doodles and i dont think theyre that great. or bc i made them just for a friend and thats like. theirs now kjdhkjdfhs#a lotta times once i finish drawing smth for a friend ill just never post it bft. so its just like. for that one thing and nothing else#ANYWAYS HAPPY 3 AM IM FORCING MYSELF TO GO TO BED#AND I STILL HAVE THE ANIMATIONS#AND THE FANART FOR LIKE 5 FICS I WANNA DO#OHHH GOD CMONNN BRO IM NEVER FINISHING ANYTHING#my postings
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stonyponyofficial · 10 months
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aw sweet! see what it says on the calendar?summer has sprung, it seems! some might say its time to show u sillies some songs for the season!
spotify link :3 :: yt link :3
full list + notes under the cut ^w^
Aluralura - Sweet Trip: this somg is soooooo fucking smooth. and cool. using the strictest definition of cool i can. perhaps cooler than cool. dk what ud even call that but this is it. sounds like i should be cruisin down the information highway to this straight up. feels like im being hit with a million little lightning bolts in. a good way? that doesnt sound good but it is. ull get it just listen pls just li
Babe of the Abyss - Girls Rituals: UGH devi.. i was so sad when this was pulled from streaming for a bit like some of the other singles from the upcoming girls rituals, but thankfully it did return :3 unlike the rest of those songs :/ eh this one is good enough to make up for it! so glittery and clicky and kinda unlike a lot of other songs devis done but it's v unique like that :3 the cover is interesting to me too bc it looks ai generated and it reminds me of a video devi made explaining her songwriting process a bit and after setting an arpeggiater (dk if i spelled that right lmao) to random she said she likes the collaboration between her and her computer and letting the computer decide some things like that :3 idk just a neat little factoid for ya
BALD! - JPEGMAFIA: was gonna put one of the tracks off scaring the hoes in this spot but, after deciding to go through peggys solo stuff a bit i liked this one even more than those ones :3 he has a very interesting and wide ranging sound tho so im really excitied to listen to more. uhh nothing else to say really. juts good song 👍
Cops and robbers - underscores: new underscores era hello anyone rockin wit it???? ME im rocking with jt thank u very much!! that one song count of three (you can eat $#@!), which ive heard is very good :3, was the end of the fishmonger era for them, where the "thing" was apparently that underscores wanted guitar on each track. still trying to find The thing about this eras sound, and maybe its the deeming it "the Wallsocket era", but to me everything just feels very buzzy, very electrically alive idk. like theres just this CRT/fluorescent light hum that backs the bass at the beginning. and the middle section just sounds like im listening to a fucking tesla coil make a pop song. shit Rocks. and Fucks. i give this one the Makes Violet Sing And Dance Around In Her Room Alone award this season, which is something i will absolutely be doing from now on and will not forget for the fall hehe :3
Dariacore Song Tutorial - leroy/Jane Remover: wait i thought there was YEAH there was dariacore on the last one, but as ive seen it so elegantly explained, this is a jane song more than a dariacore song. i mean obviously sonically right, no memey hyperpop mash up font, just some loud ass guitars n drums, but its good!!! jane literally incapable of missing.
Dress Down - Kaoru Akimoto: one of my many music moments recently has been getting into city pop more! i kiiinda only know the hits, of which this is definitely one of them, but ive seen my way around a bit B) (my cool sunglasses guy do not steal.) and even after my journey round the city.. pop, this is still one of my faves.
FELL - Varg^2™️ (im toolazy to make it superscript sowwy) & Bladee: since i began my drain journey i thought id listened to most if not all of bladees stuff besides like really old stuff that actually isnt good. like, bladee isnt good, but u get used to it as the saying goes and u kinda get to see his artistic vision unfold as he releases new stuff. but old bladee really isnt good. anyway imagine my delight and splendor when i see theres another Varg^2TM, Bladee collab... besides ecco and the rest of drain gang varg is probably my favorite bladee collaborator. in fact i almost put SHINIE, another collab from them, on some spring songs but it didnt make the cut unfortch. glad i could find something new from them to dig into mm yummy bladee :3
!¡! find the answer ¡!¡ - six impala: holy FUCK i am listening to six impala!
光の中へ (hikari no naka e)- Kessoku Band: yeah yeah i know there was kessoku band on the last one BUT THEY MADE MORE SO I LISTENED TO IT. they have such good push and pull with their tunes. like the moments of silence/slowing down before going all out. the quick drum interjections to pick things back up again. like nijikas fuckin getting it!!!! actually i read something recently about the critical reception to kessoku band, the self titled album, that makes a similar point. they were saying that although the album is just good j-rock on its own, the strength of the individual instruments and the texture of the songs themselves embodies the characters in your mind. like i listened to the beginning a bit closer one time and heard the little shreds the guitar was giving at the top and it instantly made me think like "oh shit bocchis fucking tearing it up!" soooo good instantly one of my faves from them.
It Was A Good Day - Ice Cube: fuuuuuuck i cant fucking find it i wasngonna put it here bc its the reason i added it to my playlist and have been listening to it so mch recently but. i cant find it. it was a top text bottom text cat meme edit of this song, in the same vein as that one of death grips' hacker. a very good morning walk song btw, cuz even tho it would be very easy for that situation to feel trite, im like shit. mama cooked the breakfast with no hog! todays gonna be a good day. it usually isnt with where im heading on my morning walk but. eventually itll be a good day! and the iced cube told me that.
Les Os - The Unicorns: sooooo this song is extremely horny to me sorry. also very kinda toxic t4t core but thats juts meeeeeee :3... + the singers voice is very similar in register to mine when in singing so it makes it v easy to project who daid that.... uhh anywag in the ol violet amv machine (what i call my brain) i imagine the singer with the mic stand tilted back between their legs, perhaps a cheeky little leg wrap around like sexy singers tend to do, as they stare down from the stage into yuor eyes specifically. asking u directly, out of everyone. tell me bout ur love affairs.. tell me bout ur moral resignations... so then u meet after the show and [transmission lost]
LOU - whoTF (Folie & Forget Basement), Fraxiom: [transmission regained] and from the production stylings of new hyperpop ish duo whoTF comes another lyrical miracle from the mind and pen of fraxiom music!!! includes such bangers as "I’m blowing up your car/I see Mercedes boom/I’m off four drinks of alcohol/Pissing in the ladies room!" rhyming "you can watch a youtube video" with "get your fitted tutu biddie hoe" (LIKE?) and also the amazing outro from which i could just paste the whole thing but this part resonates especially "I need to become alive, in the morning, like a rooster!/Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee and foodstuffs"..."Estradiol, finasteride, adderall, and thc im juiced up!" making rooster rhyme with foodstuff and juiced up and also everything else in that part god. they dont call them fraxiom fucking music for nothing. um but also whoTF is v good, for one without frax that is still good listen to cigs up as well :3
Natural Disasters - Enon: love me a song with a strange guitar hook! ive heard this bands like top 2 songs (which include this one) bc it was just a night of spotify surfing, but those two songs are quite good. very boucy, good energy. makes me wanna do the bounce in place dance and flail my arms as i sing only the chorus and maybe try to approximate the sounds of the lyrics i dont know. sounds like a good time to me!
Overflow - Een Glish, Tyfty, Ben Glish: eek! so ai voiced songs specifically rap is very good to me. that family ties edit with spongebob and patrick is probably one of my favorite pieces of music. but this artist is v interesting to me :3 een glish is a vocaloid (? not sure if entirely correct but u get what im getting at) made from the google translate ladys voice. and its GOOD this one specifically is very catchy but she has bars too!!! check out rap game bob ross too, and also the remix with bars from SONIC HELLO? im giving this one the Sound of the Summer distinction bc not only is it a very summery jam, but it is the one im really telling u to check out if u get the chance. lots of good jams here.
Scatman - Scatman John (DJ Kadozer 2003 Remix): (why did i accidentally type out 'evil remix' at first?) sooooo i was having a bit of a scatman moment recently, as was documented in THIS other epic music post u should go check out if u havent already hihhii :3 tho she TOTALLY STOLE the one i was gonna do, Scatman's World, cuz everyone knows scatman right? skabadaba bweebopbopbadop bop? bopbop badop bop? yeah that one! but.... have u ever heard scatman. like this???? probably not... all im sayin... scat vocals/eurobeat foundation translated to this stabbing edm remix.. its quite good. good enough that the first few seconds alone get me to smile big like this :)
Shop - Toby Fox: songs to order a You. Pick. 2... to...... haha but seriously guys this ones just a really chill one :3 i can alwasy hear the you. pick. 2. part in the song bc theyre punctuated exactly the same way its kinda hell. im chillin. like usual. listenin to undertale musicand then how boutta You. Pick. 2. with some brawwwcolli cheddah. onsecond th... and then were done with that and back to the normal undertale song! like an angle in the knight.. or tiers in the reign...... here and then gone forever. truly, ephemeral..............................
The Flag Is Raised - Asian Glow: in case we couldn't drain enough this summer, asian glow put out this really neat interpretation of one of my faves off bladee and ecco2k's recent masterpiece, Crest. follows in the footsteps of many a bladee cover for me where the cover often plays over the actual song in my head. like i expect certain isntrumentation when i listen to the original that is only present in the cover but that just means theyre both good ! the guitars and the cymbals all over this make this version feel so shiny... aww and they use the little sigil ring from Crest on the cover for it too :"3
THE FLIES - Operation Sodasteal: think i mentioned this in the tags of a post that im sure uve all read before coming to class today, but ive been listening to a lot of these guys recently! just some furry emo nightcore rock that sounds plucked right out of 2007. the one vocalist, slaney(in)famous i think? im not confident which is which, has such a good voice for it too like they have all the good vocal inflections of ur typical lead pop punk vocalist, and i usually just end up singing the lyrics like them bc im just a silly little mirror huh?
This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody) - Talking Heads: ooobh i got plany off time....... yeag ive been getting down with this jam recently :3 another good morning walk tune. been trying to get into talking heads a bit more too bc every song i hear is soooo good. like i almost put the girl wants to be with the girls here bc of that OTHER meme edit i actually dont remember if it was lolcats again. it was specifically the "girls are getting into.. abstract analysis!" OHHBB it was a rose homestuck thing bc i memba her sitting at her lappytop :3 doin some fuckin abstract analysis i suppose..
Tin Man - feeble little horse: this is another single turned favorite-song-on-the-full-album-bc-i-took-too-long-making-this-list-again-lol. i love what theyre doin to these guitars maan theyre really fuckin em up in there..... also i love that this band just calls its music guitar music. its fuckin true.
Vicinity of Obscenity - System Of A Down: songs that have done irreversible damage to my psyche and syntax. i will bust out a banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie when the fuck ever just let me know the time and place my man. it is such a vocal stim for me. this whole song is honestly. some of the silliest nu metal u can get ur paws on i checked (she is lying to u again tho it is quite silly with it 😳) + had to go with the 2008 youtube editor lyric video for the youtube playlist obviously.
ahmmmmm so thanks u all once again for enjoying some more songs with me (summer edition)!!!!! <3333 see yall...... in the fall.. with some more songs hehe (or perhaps for summer......2! who knowce :3 the summers still got plany off time as some might say)
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blushstories · 2 years
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Hi! May I request eddie (or literally any character you would enjoy writing on) x gn reader where they start making out and reader has flash-back from past sa (sexual assault) and starts panicking and body goes numb (idk if this sounds weird but trauma reaction s9metimes are weird, idk if its common sorry-) but it has a good/comforting ending? (Hope it's not against your rule request idrk sorry, would totally understand if u don't write about this since it's a triggering topic sorry).
anyway have a good day and I rlly like your work!!
hey nonnie!! thanks! i'll try my best! never written steamy stuff before so please excuse it if it's poor tw: sa references
There is nothing dangerous about Eddie Munson. There's kindness in his smile and happiness in his eyes. His hugs remind you of a teddy bear, if one of those could stretch their little fluffy arms and hug you. Eddie Munson is safe, and being with him is addictive.
He nudges the door open with his hip, emerging with two glasses of iced lemonade with striped bendy straws. Condensation has already beaded along the sides of the glass, leaving streaks of cool water over his fingers. He places them on the table next to the bed before flopping onto it next to you. He sits with a hand propping up his face, staring at you with those big adoring eyes that make you want to hide your face in a pillow.
"How's it hanging?" He asks with a smile, his hand playing with the hem of your shirt. "Good," you say, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "Thanks for the lemonade." "Gotta treat you right, keep ya sweet," he leans closer to you, still displaying his signature dazzling smile.
"Yeah, yeah," you let him close the distance between you. He smiles into his kisses often, gently testing the waters before allowing it to heat up. You both sit up a little straighter, and you brace your weight on his shoulder.
But his hands quickly brush against your sides as he looses himself in the heat of the moment, his kisses increase in intensity, and your heart skips a few too many beats. You can't keep up with his kisses, and your hand slips from his shoulder. Tears spring to your eyes and your breath catches somewhere in your throat.
He feels you become unresponsive, and pulls back. "You good?" He mutters, eyes scanning your face back and forth. You shake your head, never being able to lie to him. "Okay: we're done. You're okay." He scoots back a little bit, giving you space to breathe.
He knows your history. It was whispered to him under the covers of your bed during one of your bad days. Usually, you insist people should go, and they usually do. Except Eddie. He wanted to stay, to tear away the walls you've built around your heart and fill in the cracks.
Now, he's looking at your shaking form, completely attentive to the point of almost not blinking. Studying you carefully, not wanting to spook you but wanting to comfort you with everything he has. When he notices your breaths beginning to mimic a spluttering car engine, he jumps in.
"Can I help?" You know what he means, and you trust him. You nod, and he slips behind you, one leg on either side. He doesn't use his hands, but guides you to lean back onto his chest. He exaggerates his breathing, and you close your eyes with the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Following each inhale and exhale eventually pulls your breathing into a more manageable pace, and brings you into a headspace where you reach for Eddie's hands, playing with them on your stomach.
"How're you doing, sweetheart?" He says, and you feel the rumble in his chest in your back. You mumble something incoherent and unenthusiastic, so he leans forward, ducking his head to hear you better. "One more time?" "'M sorry."
Eddie freezes, taken aback by your unexpected apology. "There's nothing to apologise for!" You make an unconvinced sound, grappling with guilt, embarrassment and undertones of anxiety in you. "D'ya wanna get showered, hop into bed, and watch one of those movies you like? I can get popcorn!"
Your chest swells with adoration, gratitude for his attentiveness. You nod happily and say, "We can watch The Breakfast Club!" He chuckles lightly, lovingly. "Yeah, we can." His fingers have wound themselves into your hair, massaging your scalp with just the right pressure. You melt into him, in disbelief that your boyfriend is Eddie Munson, and he want to watch The Breakfast Club with you.
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Yall can we get some bromance with agustín and Félix, those too would definitely have so many bromantic and may be joking about railing each other moments just saying 😞/j
Ay you know what- we don't fucking see them together that often. Lets GO??? Lets do these guys in their early adulthood, shall we?
Agustín yawned as he wrapped up his homework. He had a late start, but at the very least, it was done now. He put his book away in his bag, and was about to turn off the light in his room, when a sudden knock scared him silly. He looked towards the window, and aure enough, there was Félix. His best friend. He sighed, walking over to the window and opening it.
"Running from another ex, Félix?"
"Oye- what kinda greeting is that? ESPECIALLY your oh so very best friend inviting you to a party!"
"Tonight? Its a school night, Félix."
"So? Tomorrow is never promised. Come on! Get your swim trunks!"
Agustín raised a brow at his grinning friend.
"What-swimming? At NIGHT?"
"Yes, come on! I got a LOT of girls coming, and I swiped my brother Julio's beer. It's gonna be fun, but I can't have fun without my best friend!"
Agustín sighed.
"My parents won't let-"
"You sneak out my guy. Come oooon! We'll be back before you know it! When have I done you wrong?"
"Twenty five times."
Félix opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
"Okay I didn’t expect an actual number. But I know what'll get you to say yes."
"What?"
"I invited Señorita Perfecta Julieta ~"
He had him. Agustín was one of the many boys who had a crush on Julieta, the eldest Madrigal child. The idea of sneaking off with her...in her bathing suit...he sighed, and nodded.
"Deal."
"ESO! Now, get your stuff, lock your door-"
"My door doesn't lock."
"Seriously? Ugh, only child bullshit. Fine, we'll do the faker tactic."
Félix came into his room, stuffed his pillows under the blanket, and after making sure it looked alright, started to crawl back out the window. Augustín grabbed his swim trunks, and accepted Félix's hand in order to climb out the window. Good thing he held on, his accident proned ass almost fell down the tree. Félix shut the window almost all the way, before helping him climb down to safety. He had a few cases of beer plopped into his arms, with Félix carrying twice as much. He gestured for him to follow, and to do so quietly. Not too quietly though, Félix could never be quiet for long.
"This is gonna be GREAT! We gonna see plenty of ladies in their sexy little two pieces, get a little drunk, and I even heard Ortiz stole a pack of his dad's smokes-rock!"
Félix bumped him away from a rock in the ground, and quickly grabbed him when the force almost sent him down. Agustín was clumsy as a child, and it never seemed to improve.
"Lo siento- it's still kinda dark."
"Eh it happens. Do me a favor though, if you fall, land on your back, not on the beer."
He of course meant more than the beers, but Félix always joked about his accident proned ass. He was lucky to have him as a friend despite this. He followed him into the woods, eventually coming to a well lit area. A hot spring, lit up by candles, and the commotion of party goers. After they got dressed, Félix, ever the social butterfly, stood up on a nearby rock, and showed off his prize.
"WHO'S READY TO PARTY?!"
The crowd roared in surprise, and as soon as they set the drinks on a nearby table, everyone went wild. Félix grinned as he saved Agustín from the crowd, arm wrapped around him, and two beers in his other hand.
"You're the life of the party, Félix."
"I try. Now, come on, salut with your bro."
Félix used a nearby rock to pop off the tops, and they both clanked their glasses together.
"Salut, Félix."
The beer was perfectly cold, and it felt incredible going down. Agustín was too young to drink, they ALL were, but thanks to Félix (and even Pepa), he's had a beer or two. Didn't LOVE them, soda definitely tasted better, but who didn't love a cold drink? Félix whistled as a couple of girls walked by, making it obvious he was looking.
"Happy you made it, chamaco?"
"Maybe a little. It's...definitely got a nice view."
Félix snorted, nudging him with his elbow.
"Ah, a breast man, eh? I'm more legs and ass, but to each his own-"
"Félix! Ven y únete a nosotras!~"
"And bring your cute little friend!~"
They both turned to the voice of VERY cute girls, who were flushed from the heat and party atmosphere. Félix finished the bottle in a hot second, before leaping into the pool, much to the delight of those already in it. Félix parted his soaked hair away from his face, to look at his friend.
"Come on! The water is GREAT!"
Augustín damn near choked as he finished his drink, adding his bottle to the ground with Félix's, before leaping towards the pool. His foot caught on a rock, and he faceplanted into the water, with his body landing on the cold hard ground. He heard the crowd exclaim in surprise, and he immediately whipped his head up. Félix looked ready to help him out, but Agustín wasn't having it. He pushed himself up and into the water, hearing cheers that followed as soon as he lifted himself back up. Félix laughed, before motioning to Agustín's face.
"You got a bloody nose, chamaco, head up."
Agustín accepted a napkin from someone outside of the pool, using it to hold against his nose. Worth it. He was about to ask Félix if he cleaned it up properly, before a shadow loomed over them.
"Hola Auggy~"
They both looked up at the voice. Pepa Madrigal. Showing LOTS of legs and chest in her shameless two piece. Now Agustín was more attracted to Julieta, but you put a pair of tits in front a boy, chances are he'll look.
"Uh...hola Pepa. You look nice."
"Gracias. Hola Félix~"
Félix nudged him out of the way, mumbling 'dibs' under his breath. A L O T of people liked Pepa, but no one more than Félix. He looked up at her like a lovesick puppy, with a hunger in his tone more akin to a wolf.
"Well buenas noches Pepa~...damn girl, you a bank? Because you got 'fine' all over you."
She giggled, slowly letting herself be drawn closer to him by her twin tails.
"Idiota...you're lucky you're cute."
"And you're lucky there's people around, mi vida."
Agustín groaned from the pain in his nose. He wasn’t gonna interrupt his buddies flow, but he was threatening to drip into the water.
"Hey, you okay?"
He looked up, and there she was. The most beautiful woman ever to exist. Julieta Madrigal. Hair lovely and curly, eyes soft and inviting, and just a big, sweaty set of...hearts, barely contained by her bra.
"I'm f-mierda!"
That REALLY hurt. He was pretty sure something was broken. He felt something slip into his hand, and immediately put it in his mouth, thinking it was her healing food. It was a towel. A used one.
"Oh my god I'm sorry I thought you just wanted to clean up-here I actually have an arepa for emergencies."
He was about to apologize for assuming, when he watched her pull an arepa. From her bra. He hesitated to bite into it, acknowledging the fact that this was technically touching her boobs, but bit into it when she looked at him oddly. He felt immediate relief as soon as the cheese hit his tongue, and started to wipe his face free of mess.
"Thank you. I needed that."
Oh the smile she gave. She was just so goddamn pretty. Félix looked up at both the girls, still fiddling with one of Pepa's ponytails.
"How'd you girls make it tonight anyway? Doesn't your mami watch you guys like a hawk?"
Pepa shrugged.
"Bruno is faking being sick for us. I THINK he volunteered because he gets to act. And get all of mami's attention."
"How do you fake being sick when your sister makes healing food?"
"Bruno is REALLY good at it. Mama won't know we're gone. Which is great, Julieta needed a break."
Julieta shrugged a bit, pushing some hair behind her ear in just the cutest way possible.
"It...IS nice to be out. Is the water nice?"
Félix spoke for him, clearly playing the wing man. Félix was ALWAYS trying to get them alone together.
"Why not come in and see, Jules?"
He grabbed her hand, and yanked her into the water. She cried out in surprise before she hit the water, and upon coming back up, immediately splashed Félix in retaliation.
"Oye- that was so MEAN Félix!"
"You're just mad because you dunno how to have fun!"
"Don't have fun without me, idiota!"
Pepa jumped in right after, nearly sending Félix down with her. Not that he seemed to particularly mind. Agustín wasn't gonna lie, he was having fun. Bathing in hot water, getting to talk to Julieta (he learned she loved mint, and made it a point to look for the proper cologne later), having shitty beers, and watching everyone just run amok. Julieta tried to ask Félix for another bottle, only to immediately cover the side of her face, cheeks ablaze. Agustín wasn't surprised that Pepa and Fèlix were making out, just that it took this long. Agustín snickered, trying to help her by offering his hand to help block the view.
"Hey, at least she's happy."
"I...suppose. I am too though. Félix said you'd be here, and it's...kinda why I came."
Oh he felt his ears buzzing, he felt his heart pounding as she looked up at him with those big, pretty eyes. He gulped, a bit louder than he meant to.
"You...came here for me?"
"And because Pepa insisted she 'say hi to Félix', but yes. I like talking to you. You're sweet."
There was silence between them, and he decided to pluck up the courage.
"Do you...wanna get out of here?"
"If you could bring me a towel, then yes."
Holy shit. He was walking out of here with Julieta Madrigal? He was dreaming. He caught Félix giving him a thumbs up mid make out as he got out of the water, walking to get her a towel. Then he heard laughter. Eyes were on him, and many pointed. Sure his shorts had rubber ducks on them, but this seemed a bit much.
"Agustín tiene una gamba!"
He looked down at himself, and realized in between it all, his shorts came off. He was naked. His face burned as he tried to cover both his front and the back, and the crowd erupted in laughter. Julieta wasn't looking at him, but Pepa and Fèlix definitely were. No way would someone as socially important as him would wanna be friends with him. He could imagine the shrimp related nicknames, and could picture the bromance break up so clearly. Then Fèlix got out of the water, standing next to him. Agustín yelled/whispered.
"What are you DOING?!"
"Shh, I got a plan."
Félix then just took off his swim wear, holding it up in the air like a damn flag.
"Tira, perras!"
Almost immediately, people started to cheer. Men took of swim trunks, girls took off their tops- it was a MAD HOUSE of nude, drunk idiots. A guy in the back, definitely on the wasted end, wooped as he held up his boxers.
"Fuck yeah Agustín!!!"
There were chants of 'Agustín' over and over, with Félix not only being the loudest voice out there, but the guy who held him still as people DOUSED him in the shittiest, coldest beer. He sat there, body hot from the water but quickly cooling thanks to the drinks. He was basking in the attention, in the adoration, and honestly? He was glad Félix talked him into this.
--------------------
"Shhh!!! cállate!"
Félix snickered as his buddy helped him inside. It was WAY late, but who cared? They saw, they drank, Félix made out with the cutest girl in their class- it was a good night. Agustín reached into his closet, handing him a fresh towel. Félix snickered as he ran the towel over his body, drying himself just enough so he could sit on his buddies bed. As he rubbed it over his hair, he looked at his buddy with a smirk on his face.
"That's rude, given the fact that I made you the 'it' guy at the party! They were chanting your NAME, chamaco!"
Agustín looked a little embarrassed, given his red ears, before he chuckled.
"It...was nice. Thanks for the save, by the way. You didn't have to do that."
"What? And let you drown? Never. We've been friends since we were like, six. You aren't getting rid of my ass. Speaking of, guess who kept looking at YOURS, my guy!"
Félix leaned over to smack his little white ass, making him yelp. Agustín still couldn't find his clothes after the party, so they both made it here naked as the day they were born. Agustín huffed, turning to keep his ass away from him.
"Julieta was just in shock. I just think- okay can you put YOUR shorts on? THIS, is very distracting."
"Nope, that's not how my bros work. You gonna see my dick until it stops being weird."
"W-HOW?"
Félix leaned back, legs open, gesturing for him to look.
"We just need this little pow wow- look at it."
"I'm NOT looking at it."
"Dude I've LIVED this. Look at my dick for a minute."
Agustín didn't, and only looked at his face when he snapped his fingers.
"Félix dude come on, it's one thing to occasionally see it in the locker room-"
"Dude trust me. I've done this with all my friends. Just like a minute. Literally I've been staring at yours this whole conversation."
Agustín covered himself in shame, before groaning as he relented. Félix sat back still and let Agustín full on look at his dick. A few seconds into it, Agustín finally spoke.
"I. I kinda see what you see mean."
"SEE!? Now you can see my dick at any point and it's not weird. Especially the dick of the guy who got you Julieta's attention ~"
He nudged his buddy until he got a grin out of him.
"Don't. I know where this is going, dude."
"Come on, who takes care of you?"
"You."
"I'm not hearing you!"
Félix wrapped his arm around Agustín's head, bringing him into the bed with him and giving him a noogie. Agustín laughed, trying in vain to get Félix off of him.
"You, alright!? Come on dude, get off!"
"Aw, come on 'Auggy'! You gonna let me pick on you? Huh? Huh?"
So he was being a bit much. He was drunk, his buddy was drunk, they were happy, you couldn't blame him. He couldn't help bullying his little buddy, just a bit.
"Dude, seriously, you're heavy! And Gordo!"
"Oye-big talk from a guy LITERALLY pinned under me right now."
It was innocent, boys being boys type shit. Until the door opened.
"Agustín, honey? We heard a noise-"
Agustín's parents were right there, and Fèlix felt himself freeze. They were all frozen, until Agustín finally said something.
"Maman, Papa! It's n-not what it looks like!"
Okay, so he was nude, on top of his friend, who was also nude. In his room. In his bed. In the early morning. Looked a LITTLE weird. His mother gulped, looking pale in the face.
"Dear god, please tell me you use protection."
"What? No no no, I don't! I-"
His mom fainted. Full on fainted. Fell like a sack of potatoes onto the floor. Her husband immediately tried to help her up, and Agustín looked at Félix, in PURE panic.
"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!"
"I'm sorry! Look if I was fucking your tiny ass I WOULD wrap it, I promise!"
"THAT'S NOT H E L P I N G, FÉLIX."
His dad looked up at him, panicking just as hard.
"Félix please, at LEAST put some clothes on!!"
Right. He was still naked as hell. He got off of Agustín, quickly put on his shorts, and tried to help his mom. She came to, only to faint again upon seeing Félix. Well you know what they say.
It's not a real party till someone faints.
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emissary-of-the-moon · 6 months
Text
So im back to thinking about my little 'modern' au (heavy air quotes) so yall get to listen to me spitball ramble about the timeline (will i ever actually use the timeline in anything other than referencing it? Probably not, also adding ages, will probably be prone to editing)
Time:
Current age: 41
Birth year: XX02 (mid-summer)
Story Notes:
Age 11- Time's stort still plays out mostly the same with a few minor tweaks. He was raised by the Great Deku Tree in Kokiri Forest, Great Deku Tree is attacked and dies, Time leaves the forest and meets with Lullaby who tells him about her dream about Ganondorf and how her family won't listen. Lullaby intrusts the Ocarina of Time to Time, he gets the Sacred Stones and goes to get the 'Master Sword' only to be put into a 7 year sleep.
Fighting stuff, Ganon is dead (and he stays dead, Time is the only one that deals with him) Lullaby sends him back in time with proof (i dont care what it is its not relevant) of what Ganondorf is going to do. Ganon is executed, Lullaby resigns from her title now that she believes her duty is done, Time recollects the masks he originally collected from before he was sent back in time.
He gets to live an easy life for quite awhile with Malon and Twilight, up until the war where he joins in and ends up having to resort to Feirce Deity resulting in the markings and damage to his eye.
Twilight:
Current age: 23
Birth year: XX20 (early fall)
Story Notes:
Age 18- Twilight just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up getting roped into the war against Hyrule. He was at Ordona's springs after a fight with Ilia for pushing Epona too hard again when Zant had shown to incapacitate Ordona and rid them of their light. Ordona was able to fend off Zant, who was already magically exhausted after dealing with the other three light spirits, but not before Zant cursed Twilight into a perpetual wolf form.
Not long after, Midna, also already cursed by Zant, had arrived and was informed by Ordona about what had happened. She agreed to help restore the light spirits with Twilight under two conditions, she be told the location of the remaining fused shadows, and the light spirits help her to unbanish the rest of the Twili from Hyrule.
Tldr Wolf Twilight and Imp Midna restore the light spirits as quickly as possible, briefly fight alongside Warriors, Ordona hold up their end of the deal, and Midna uses the fused shadows to aid the Hyrulian forces at the tail end of the war. Ordona and the other light spirits reversed the curse on Midna and removed the cursed object from Twilight. Twilight gets to keep the shadow crystal.
Warriors:
Current age: 26
Birth year: XX17 (mid-spring)
Story Notes:
Age 21- Wars was definition 'idk what to do with my life after school' and joined army and then got wrapped up in war.
Four:
Current age: 17
Birth year: XX26 (early spring)
Story Notes:
Age 12- Invasion happens, Vaati turns Rune to stone, Four goes to the Lost Woods looking for the 'Force Gem' (essentially the Four Sword and Light Force in one, but its just physically the gem from the hilt of the Four Sword blade), Four is split into four + his shadow, un-stone Rune, Vaati is delt with, Four keeps the gem.
Only Rune and Smith know about the gem + it causing Four to split.
Wind:
Current age: 16
Birth year: XX27 (late summer)
Story Notes:
Age 12- Aryll gets kidnapped, Wind sets off with Tetra (they were docked at Outset to restock on supplies). At one point well looking for Aryll they dock in Hyrule, Wind sneaks into try to get supplies but ends up getting left behind as Tetra and the crew have to flee (Tetra continues looking for Aryll). 'Wolfie' (and by proxi Midna) find Wind at the docks where he's almost ambushed and gets 'taken in' by the two, later meet up with Warriors who they've fought along side with a few times up until this point. (It's just about the end of the war at this point)
After everything is all said and done, Tetra sends Linebeck to go retrieve Wind and bring him back to Outset (she didn't want to leave Aryll and his Grandma alone).
Wild:
Current age: 21
Birth year: XX22 (early summer)
Story Notes:
Wild and Flora were out of the country on a school trip when invasion happened. He did still get wrapped up near an explosion, which left him with the scars and some memory loss.
Met Legend and Ravio when the two were traveling.
Legend:
Current age: 20
Birth year: XX23 (late fall)
Story Notes:
Mother died not long after birth, leaving him and Fable with their father, who went AWOL and took Fable with him cause he was convinced she was royalty (she is not, he's just mental). Ran off to Lorule (few nations over, Holodrum, Labrynna, and Hytopia are in between) when the twins were about 5 years old, Legend was left in the care of his uncle (mother's brother).
Uncle dies, ends up in the care of Smith (family friend and Four's grandfather). Smith tips him off that he knows Fable and his father ended up in Lorule. Legend convinces him to let him look for them (mainly Fable), Smith takes care of Legend's family house outside of Hyrule Town and funds Legend's travel the best he can (he either agreed to it or kid was just gonna dip in the night). Legend is around 14 at this point.
Legend still ends up doing side work well traveling for more money, meets Ravio at the halfway point in Labrynna they travel back Lorule, reunite with Fable and Hilda, sibling bonding stuff. Hilda and Ravio go back with Fable and Legend to Hyrule.
Pre meeting Ravio, Legend is put into a cursed sleep after touching stuff he shouldn't have and u have the Link's Awakening game play out.
Hyrule:
Current age: 18
Birth year: XX25 (late winter*)
Story Notes:
Age 14- Roolie had been wandering around Hyrule for about a year into the invasion, avoiding as much of the fighting as possible well still helping where he could, went he hit Skyloft and learned Aurora was in a cursed sleep. Dawn tags along with him to help gather anything he'd need to wake up her sister.
Sky:
Current age: 24
Birth year: XX19 (late spring)
Story Notes:
Age 19- He was out of the country with Sun when the war started and was unable to return to Hyrule to help or aid his sisters, due to the border lockdown. (aka I haven't played ss yet and want to stay as blind as possible so idk much about sky's game)
Spirit:
Current age: 16
Birth year: XX27 (mid-winter)
Story Notes:
He's doing his own thing with Phantom, they're living their best lives. Perks of being in a different country than the rest, no horrors of war :P
Hyrulian War: XX38-XX40
^name is a wip might leave it as is
Current time is 3 years post-war (XX43)
*end of calendar year ~about December time
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rxttenfish · 2 years
Note
What are those fish plotting. What nefarious deeds are they up to
complicated question. namely because to answer this i'd have to get into merkingdom politics and history and how exactly their whole embargo on ANY contact with the land formed and for what reason, alongside some REALLY shady stuff that they have done, that people within the merkingdom are very aware of, but of a kind of nature that even miranda has been banned from speaking on it to landfolk. or showing them either. she's kind of bad at both of these, but its fine, just don't look too closely at what she's doing and you won't know a thing.
speaking of miranda: there's the whole REASON she was sent up as an ambassador to make those very first introductions to the land and forge brand new political relationships, which is a complex mix of history, merkingdom politics, and inter-vanderbilt drama that they've covered up pretty hard and are absolutely trying to distract even their fellow royals from. miranda herself only knows a part of the story on that last part, which unfortunately is the least interesting part of the story. if you asked any of her sisters, they would know, but they aren't exactly telling, nor are they in a position where its feasible to ask them. where the present-day is in my writing - only miranda and bellanda are on land, amanda and laudanda are still fully within the merkingdom and tending to business there.
and of course there's the king, but you KNOW no one's getting close to him to ask him anything. the queen's been dead for over twenty years and her spirit is MIA, so she's no use either.
in as far as anyone on land knows: mostly the merkingdom just seems interested in forging new political relationships, getting off on the right foot and generally being eager to please with a heavy undercurrent of "they have the kind of power behind them that you REALLY don't want to fuck with". all anyone's seen of that power so far is glimpsed through trade relationships, which the merkingdom seems very intensely interested in odd, basically worthless things from the people they contact, with a lot of high-value items and resources in return, which they seem all too willing to give out like candy. the quality alone is cause for suspicion, least of all how readily they can provide all of these things, and for almost nothing in return.
still, they're polite, and dont really come off as wanting anything else, and are clearly fantastically rich, so although something's clearly going on, it's hard to make heads or tails of it so far.
as far as miranda's friends know: miranda is clearly afraid of going home. she acted completely differently when she came up to land as compared to how she acts now, and even now she still gets WEIRD in certain situations and topics in an alarming way, be it either switching into complete and utter panic (dolphins being one of the biggest triggers for this one) or entirely blanking out and going numb or switching into a sort of "princess mode", abruptly coming across as strict and business-like and entirely divorced from her prior personality, and there's a lot of little hints that something is wrong. she still fawns over daddy, don't get me wrong, but she goes further with it. practically falling over herself for him even when he's not present and almost overcompensating by talking him up. hell, the only person in her family she's willing to speak very genuinely about is bellanda, and asking about the others only ends badly.
trying to bring up any of this to miranda herself is a bust, ofc, because all you're going to do is to make her reactive and lash out at you for daring to question her and question the merkingdom, and how DARE you speak such LIES. around spring she gets especially despondent and vanishes for days and weeks at a time, though she's obscure with the reasons why. she still vanishes for sometimes weeks during other times of the year, with absolutely no answers as to what she was doing, but it always happens a lot in spring.
and there's the business of what miranda's royal duties are specifically, but again, she's not talking about any of this and you can't make her.
the merkingdom is, likewise, not taking questions at this time.
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hokusu · 1 year
Note
it's really hard to balance irl stuff with online stuff sometimes >.< I've had a lot going on in my head recently, but I'm trying really hard not to let it overwhelm me, which is easier said than done lmao overall though I'm doing well! ^-^
you hit the nail on the head regarding what's so wonderful about Christmastime!! it's also just always been a really special/nostalgic time of year for me and my family, and I also adore Christmas music haha. it all just fills me with a lot of warm, cozy feelings~ I really like winter all-around though, I'm the kind of person who prefers the cold over the hot, although I think my favorite season is probably spring cuz it's the perfect in-between! 💕
who are some of your favorite characters?? and if you don't mind me asking, what do you enjoy so much about dabihawks? I think they make a really interesting pair and would love to hear your thoughts about them!!
~your animanga secret santa❤️
So true, as soon as you're busy irl time flies so fast and it's hard to catch up with everything (cough anime in my opinion too lol, I'm struggling to edit everything I want this season 😭). Im glad you're doing well though, Santa!! 💛 I hope your thoughts leave you some peace soon and whatever it is, works out. 😊
Yess xmas music is so nice and comfy!! I love trans-siberian orchestra ones the most. Do you have a favorite Christmas song? Do you get white Christmas where you're from? 😲 I also enjoy winter more! And fall is always so dreamy, but where I live it doesn't really have much of fall either lol.
I have a lot of favs but here are some ☺️:
One Piece (not caught up yet but this anime is probably the most of my hyperfixation after dabihawks rn lol. I love it so much) - Zoro, Trafalgar, Ace and pretty much all of straw hats
SNK (been a while but they'll always be special) - Levi, Eren, Jean
Haikyuu (this is the comfort show Im always into) - Kageyama, Kuroo, Nishinoya, Hinata, ...almost everyone tbh.
Given (re-reading recently so feels are back) - Kaji mostly, but also all the mains are good lol
Banana Fish - Ash Lynx
Kny - Uzui, Giyuu
And lastly my absolute favs right now and I can talk about them forever Dabi & Hawks - I love literally everything about them individually and together. Dabi, who was told he's never been enough but consistently proving that everyone is wrong (literally living when he should be dead through sheer will power and vengence) vs. Hawks, who always remember "what is he even good for" and desperately tries to prove he can be of use? Dabi, who's ready to die while taking revenge vs. Hawks, who's willing to die to save everyone else? They're both so much more than who they pretend to be, who they wear that mask for and I think sometimes people misunderstand them for it, but its why I LOVE THEM!
I love their dynamic and how they used each other in the manga, I love that they're on opposite sides of a war both with ideals that clash so differently and they're perfect foils of each other, and yet so easily they could have been in each other's shoes. I think it makes them understand each other in a way that no one else does when all their lives, they've been very much alone. Their tragic backstories also plays into their character development very well (and every ch it shows me this!) Contrary to some opinions out there (esp. about hawks oof) , I think Horikoshi did a fantastic job writing them and they are the most interesting in the animanga by far and why I picked up the manga. There's so much to explore with them, so much potential angst and parallels between them, but even on their own they're just written SO WELL.
Hawks views are so skewed and it shows because of how he was brought up (by a family who didn't want him and then bought by the commission to be a solider) and it's so ingrained into who he is today, but he genuinely still just wants to "do good and protect people", so he's still the best hero in my eyes. 😭 And Dabi, who obviously isn't innocent, but you can't help but root for him to live at the end of it anyways bcus Dabi was genuinely good once and he tried so hard to be, he couldve been the best fucking hero. They're so flawed and fucked up in their own ways, but I love them for it and they're PERFECT. At the end of the day, I know they've done heinous things but they both deserved so much more. Latest chapter with them meeting again has me screaming too and I'm so excited to see what's next in manga!! There's so much more I could say but sorry this is so long already!! How about you, are you a fan of BNHA and who's your favs? 😁
And I'm also into a lot of other animes (seasonal or otherwise like sxf (so so good and heartwarming), csm, tokrev, jjk, mp100, golden kamuy, a lot of slice of life and lesser known ones, etc.) if you wanna know more ^^
Please have a lovely week Santa! 💛
0 notes
hawkinshell-fire · 1 year
Text
TITLE
Eddie "The Freak" Munson
SUMMARY
Y/N just moved to Hawkins. Its the middle of the school year and almost spring break. You're not expected to find friends as you never fit in.
WORD COUNT : 1148
Chapter 5: Alone
"Oh sorry I should of warned you," You say looking down at your feet.
"Oh it's no problem it just means I get spend more time aloooone with you," He says sing songy,
You quickly brush off what he says. Sitting down next to your stack of boxes. Eddie comes and sits next to you. A little too close. You feel his cold leather jacket brushing up against your skin. Giving you cold chills. It makes your face heat up again. What is happening to you?
He grabs down a box, " So where does all this stuff go?" He asks.
"Um I'm not sure I'll have to find a place. I didn't really think anything through," You reply going to grab the box out of his hands to see the contents. Your hands brush against each other making your face flush even more. Your entire body is tingling at this point. You look up to him. He's so much taller than you. You're staring in to each others eyes. It's happening just like it did in your dream. You're hoping it finishes that way too. Without the waking up part. You can feel it happening. You know it is. You don't want to stop it. So you don't. He puts his hand on the back of your head. Pulling you closer. You can feel his breath.
"Y/N can I kiss you?" He asks. You feel every breath with his words.
"Please Eddie," You reply raspy.
"Mhhm," You hear.
He closes in, his lips are so close now. You feel them brushing yours. Almost like he's teasing you. Then finally his warm lips crash into yours. You feel his lips moving. Exploring yours. His warm breath fills your mouth. It tastes of cigarettes. You're entire body is on fire. Itching for more. Your hands have found their way into his long curly hair. Wrapping his curls around your fingers. You let a little moan escape by accident. He pulls away as he hears it.
"We should stop. I don't want to take it too far," He says.
You both are breathing extremely heavy.
"I really enjoyed that Y/N," Eddie says still looking in your eyes.
I did too," You tell him.
You lean back in for another kiss. But all of a sudden you hear a car approaching.
"Shit!" You scream.
What! What's Wrong? Eddie says back panicked now.
"My mom is home! She's not supposed to be here!" You exclaim.
"OOOH Y/N does your mom not know you have a boy here. While she's gone?" He replies teasingly.
"No Eddie She doesn't, Hurry up get in the closet," You say pulling him up, and pushing him in your closet.
"What a bad girl," He says as you close the closet.
You here the door open.
"Y/N where are you? Are you home?" Your mom asks.
" Yeah mom, I'm upstairs unpacking," You say to her as a box falls off the shelf in the closet.
"Shit," You whisper to yourself.
"What was that?" Your mom says and you can hear her coming up the steps.
"Shit shit shit," You keep repeating to yourself.
She steps into your room.
"I just dropped a box , mom.' You say to her trying to play it off.
"Y/N there's no box on the floor," She replies. "Anyway I just forgot my lunch. So I'm gonna go grab it." She continues as she scans your room.
"Okay mom Love You, Bye," You tell her as she walks out.
You wait until you hear her car drive off again before going to the closet that Eddie is hiding in. You open it to find Eddie standing there with your stuff laying all around him.
"Sorry about that," He says giving you puppy dog eyes.
"It's okay Eddie, but that was a close one," You reply back.
"Well Y/N maybe you shouldn't hide random boys in your closet." Eddie says poking at your sides.
"Oh shut it Munson, help me clean this up," You say back pushing his hands away.
__________________________________________
After the close call with your mom you and Eddie get back to unpacking boxes. You're nearly done and not once has he tried kissing you again. You really hope it wasn't a one time thing. He did say he enjoyed it. Right? So why wouldn't he try for more?
As you guys get down to your last box you're really losing hope he'll kiss you again.
"So princess what are we doing tomorrow?" Eddie asks as he's putting away some of your stuff on a shelf.
"What do you mean Eddie?" You ask him. You weren't planning on doing anything tomorrow.
" I just don't want to be away from you," He says pulling you in close again.
Your heart starts racing. Here we go exactly what you want.
" Eddie," You start to say before you feel his lips on yours. You feel your stomach doing flips. His lips are moving fluidly against yours. His kiss is getting more intense. You can feel him nibbling at your bottom lip. This time it's you who pulls away.
" I just thought maybe I could take you out on a proper date?" Eddie asks you.
"Of coarse Eddie, I want to spend everyday of break together," You say back to him.
Okay, Great! I'll pick you up at Seven Thirty," Eddie says and you can hear the joy in his voice.
"But for now you'd better go," You glance at your clock. It says Nine O'clock. "My Mom should be home again soon, and this time you might have to stay in the closet," You poke at his chest.
To your surprise it's actually kind of muscular.
" Walk me out," He says looking at you.
You both make your way down the steps. As you make it to the door Eddie begins to open it. He abruptly turns around to steal one last kiss. It was just quick and short. Almost like a peck, but it's enough for you. He turns back around and heads to his van. You stand in your doorway watching him drive away.
____________________________
When your mom gets home you're laying in your bed. She comes up the steps.
"Hey Y/N how did today go? Oh wow I didn't expect you to finish. Especially all by yourself," She says staring at you now.
Oh shit she knows someone was here. Play it cool.
"Yeah mom I just wanted to get it done. I was tired of my room looking a mess," You says back not looking at her.
"Okay," She says. As she starts to turn away.
"Oh hey mom, I'm going to be out tomorrow night, I'm going out with a friend," You call behind her.
She doesn't turn around, "That's great sweetie, Sorry I'm just really tired," She yawns as she walks to her room.
0 notes
plush-rabbit · 3 years
Text
The Brothers + Diavolo Making You Flustered
Request: Hi!hi! The aphrodisiac writing was absolutely *chefs kiss*. I have this habit of when I get embarrassed/flustered I immediately bury my face into the surface in front of me. Like if I’m sitting on the floor I’ll lean over and bury my face on the carpet, sitting at a table I’ll lean over and plant my face on the surface etc. How do you think the brothers (+diavolo if that’s okay) would react to seeing MC do that for the first time when they make them flustered? You’re so talented by the way! ily!
Word Count: 1K each
A/N: I hope you like this!! It was a bit difficult since i didn't want to make everything the same, but yeah!!
-
Lucifer:
His sleeves are rolled up, flour coating the tips of his fingers and dusting across his apron, and the smell of garlic and onion fills the room. It smells lovely, it smells like a home. You stand beside Lucifer, watching as the water boils, bubbles fizzling out and steam rising. A box of noodles is held in your hands, your eyes peering over to where the bread is held in his hands. Your tongue peeks between your lips- it’s a soft pink, tinged with blue from candy and for a moment, he forgets himself, wanting to taste the candy that rests on your tongue, wishing that he were your lips to feel the gentle caress of your tongue.
“Remind me what we’re making again?” You ask, sniffing at the pot, only to scrunch your nose at the scent. “And why it’s us making it?”
“A Devildom dish,” he responds, giving a side glance. “It’s similar enough to a human cousine, so you needn’t worry about it being anything unsavory.” He turns to you, his smile almost teasing. “And we’re making it because it’s our turn on cooking duty.”
“If you wanted to spend time with me, you could always ask.” While your words are true, he tries to hold his composure, not wanting to reveal that you had hit the nail on its head. “You don’t have to assign us both to cooking duty. It’s pretty sneaky for you, dear Lucifer.” Your hand pats at his back and he promptly turns away from you
Walking away from you, he starts the timer on the oven, the preheat button lights up as the oven begins to glow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I drew our names on a complete random.” He turns to you, his smile making you unable to see what he’s really thinking. “Do you not wish to spend time with me?” he asks cooly, walking towards you. Despite the flour on his hands that dusts over his face, and the apron wrapped around him, he still holds an aura of confidence and authority that makes you break away from his gaze first.
“You’re absolutely awful,” you mutter, giving him a grin to let him know that it was a playful insult.
“And yet, you’re still here,” he coos, his grin wicked and cool at the same time. “I must not be totally awful if you still wish to spend time with me.” You groan, shaking your head with a smile on your lips and he turns to hide his more giddy smile, smiling calmly when the oven beeps. The preheat session is done. He opens the oven, a wave of hot air making him knit his brows together for a moment. “There’s no need to be ashamed of being so fond of me. I am Pride, it’s only natural that you would gravitate towards me.” He grabs the rack of bread, carefully slipping it inside the oven and closing the door.
“Well you’re a lot more than Pride to me.” His eyes widen and he turns to you, his body facing towards the oven with his head half-turned. “You’re Lucifer. You’re someone close to me and well, I actually am glad that we got to spend time together. I would love to hear you admit that you simply wanted to spend time with me, but-” you shrug- “you’ve got that stubborn pride that I can’t help but adore.” You turn to him, a cheeky smile on your face that matches the light in your eyes.
It’s silent between the two of you. It’s comforting, one that is welcomed and isn’t making either of you awkward. He watches as you carefully stir the pot, your index skimming under the words of the cookbook. Your brows furrow as you carefully read over the direction, careful to not add the wrong ingredient or wrong measurement. You’re methodical, carefully going about everything, and in the kitchen with Lucifer, he can’t help but smile at you, his smile soft and eyes crinkled as he watches you carefully.
“I know I haven’t told you this enough- or perhaps before-” silverware clinks together as he reaches over from a baking brush, his eyes never leaving yours- “but I’m actually quite proud of you.” He tears his gaze away from you, his smile widening and his chest puffing. “You have this knack about you that makes it so easy for others to fall for you, that I have to admit that even I have fallen victim to you.” The baguettes are painted over with a mixture of garlic and spices, his words never stopping or falling to hesitation as he speaks. “You’re-” he sighs, not knowing how to put what he wants to say into words- “I’ve been Lucifer for such a long time, living and holding power, but I must say, when I’m around you, I feel more me than I ever had in my entire existence.” He turns his body to you, his hands open and knuckles brushing over your cheek, a thin line of white left against your face. “I’m glad that I’ve gotten to meet you.”
His eyes widen, his words finally registering to his ears. He looks up, eyes meeting the stone wall before he turns to you, his mouth agape and hands still holding a baguette, and the baking brush. The garlic and onion sizzle on the stove, the yellow glow of the kitchen and the buzzing sounds of the outside do everything to fill the room, not a single ounce of silence is graced to either of you.
“You can’t just say stuff like that!” You say in a hurried tone, your face hot enough that you can feel sweat start to bead. “It’s- It’s-” you can’t find the proper words, it isn’t embarrassing but it isn’t something that you hear everyday- “Ah!” You decided, burying your face further into the table, your hands cushioning the blow.
His hand claps over your back, slowly rubbing between your shoulder blades in an attempt to soothe you over. “I would have thought you would have enjoyed hearing the truth,” he teases lightly. “Was I wrong about that assumption?” he presses, his elbow nudging against your shoulder where you still lay with your head rested in your hands.
You peer upwards, your face slowly revealed to show a flushed color that makes his chest puff with pride, his smile . “You wanna know why I know that you wanted to spend time with me?” Lucifer raises his brows in confusion. “I hadn’t written down my name yet.” His smile twitches away for a moment. “You called it before I could even write my name down.” You smile at him, your smile gentle. “I still have the paper in my pocket. You really like me, huh Lucifer?”
Mammon:
Textbooks are left open, pencils and pens sprawled over the coffee table as you and Mammon rest on the couch. He talks vividly, and as he’s excited to tell you stories of his past, his mouth works faster, skipping over details and returning to them moments later. Your hands are wrapped tight around his bicep, your face hidden as you try to stifle your laughter. He can feel your hands tighten, the way that you cling to him and even try to push yourself closer to him. “So that was when I decided to just grab all the things I could carry and just book it!” Mammon exclaims, clapping his hands together and extending his right arm forward. “You should’ve seen how angry those witches were, but hell, they deserved it for thinking they could pull one over on me.” He turns to you, his grin wicked, slowly widening as he leans back cautiously to not let you move away from him. “Fuckers should’ve known to not touch my stuff.”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head and leaning onto him. His smile twitches for a second, softening into a gentler smile, watching as you turn your face into his arm, trying to stifle your laughter. It’s loud, infectious and it’s something that reminds him of a spring day that he once spent in the Human Realm. He isn’t sure how to explain it- something about it that screams life and youth, something that sounds so unapologetically like you, that it makes him breathless. When you start to pull away, he lets his grin widen, eager to look at you again.
He’s so close to you, your hand within arm’s reach that if he really wanted to, he could just take it in his. His mouth goes dry, his tongue too invasive in his own mouth and he watches as you adjust your hair, his eyes fixated on how your hair slips through your fingers. There are words stuck in his throat, but no matter what he thinks of to say, he isn’t sure what he should say. He’s at a loss, wondering what would be the perfect way to bring back the mood, to continue the conversation without it being forced, but in all honesty, he’s fine, just sitting here with you. He’s more than fine with just staring at you.
“Hey, Mammon?” He jolts at his name being said, a shock running through his spine. He nods his head, swallowing what little saliva is in his mouth. “I really like hearing your stories, you know?” You smile softly at the book in your hands. He watches you with unblinking eyes, wondering what it is that you’re getting at. “I really just like listening to your voice. I know you were stuck with me at first-” internally he flinches, he doesn’t like to reminisce when you were first put under his charge- “but I’m glad that it was you.” He is left breathless, his muscles tense as you look at him, a smile stretching past your lips and gracing your lips. You look at him for a moment, your eyes darting to where his hand is clenched tightly and you nod to yourself, turning your attention back to the book.
You’re facing away from him, your fingertips tracing over the edge of a page as you try to focus on the words but he can tell from the pout on your lips that you aren’t registering anything from the book. What should he say? What can he say? He knows he has to say something. He knows that he should match your energy or at least attempt to but he can’t. There are so many things he wants to tell you, and they all seem so disorganized. You’re pretty. You’re nice to him and you always let him sneak into your bedroom late at night. You rely on him and as much as you need him, he needs you more. You have such a soft touch that it leaves him tingling all over as if some ghost were the one responsible for it. He lets out a slow breath, his lips parted slightly as he breathes out. “You know,” he says quietly, his fingers twitching and moving to clutch at the end of your shirt, “you got a real nice laugh. It’s nice to spend time with you, ya know?” Once he’s started talking, he’s unable to quiet himself, unable to register the things that he’s saying to you. “I like hanging out with other demons and all, but there’s something about you that I like more. It’s like with you-” his hand waves in the air, eyes glancing around your room- “I get to just feel safe. I get to relax and know that I can count on you. And I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always be on your side. Forever and ever.” Mammon turns his head, his smile stretched wide and hand going to cover yours. “You turned me into a sap, ya know?’”
The moment is tender as he smiles down at you, only to slowly realize the weight of his words as you stop in your movements, your fingers letting the page fall back to the others, words lost upon themselves as your shoulders rise. His eyes widen and his lips thin. Heat creeps upwards from his chest and scorches its way to mar his features, his face turning into a darker shade as he flushes. His mouth goes dry, unable to produce any type of saliva as he sits beside you. Slowly, his mouth parts, and he’s unable to find the words to deny what he just said, but before he can, you curl in on yourself, burying your way into your hands, your hands spread and fingers parting to cover as much of your face as it can.
“I-” he coughs loudly into the rook of his elbow. You can tell that he wants to resort to his usual denial of feelings but he stops himself before he can even reach the middle of his sentence. “Listen, just because you-” you can feel his eyes on you- “will ya look up at me? I’m not gonna tear your head off or anything, I just don’t want you getting a bigger head than you already have.” You slowly turn to him, watching as he tries to avoid your gaze. “Let’s just go get a bite to eat. We can’t study on empty stomachs or whatever.” He rises quickly, his hand held out to you as he keeps his attention out on the door. “Come on, I’ll pay for ya and everything.”
Your lips thin and you look at his hand. You inhale a sharp breath of air, slowly letting it go. His face is still flushed, a deep color that burns against his skin. “Like a date?” You ask, hoping to see more of his reactions. He stiffens at your question, his brows furrowing to meet each other. He stammers out a response, clearly flustered. You lay your hand on his and he immediately quiets down. You smile at yourself, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that it was you who brought him to such a state. Slowly, his hand curls with yours and he gives a brief nod of his head.
Leviathan:
Leviathan sits alone in his room, a blanket pooled around his lower half, his eyes have begun to burn, tinged with red from lack of sleep as bright colors flash across his pale face. An empty bowl save for kernels that rest at the bottom of the bowl, his fingertips tinged with red and he can feel his mouth heavy with acid and past snacks.
His hands tap against his controller, his fingers already reaching toward a button before he can even register what he should press. His mind is on autopilot, reaching and stiffening when an enemy nears and even so, his character is still killed. He lets out a frustrated groan, careful to throw his controller towards his pillows and not the walls- he can’t risk losing yet another controller; least of all having to patch a hole- or in his case, covering it with a poster. His hands are thrown into the air, fingers outstretched before they are curled into a fist. He arches his back forward, the heels of his hands cushioning his eyes. He tears up slightly, wincing at the sudden realization of burning pain that lingers in his eyes. Slowly, he pulls away just in time to hear his door creak open.
“Password,” he says with a lack of conviction, turning slightly to watch as you enter with a bag in your hand. He raises his brows, his arm stretching outward as he blindly searches for his controller. “What do you have there?” He jerks his chin, returning his attention to the game in front of him.
The light clicks on- something bright that fills the room in a soft blue that stretches around him. He winces at the sudden light, the controller dropped onto his lap as he rubs his eyes vigorously. If it weren’t obvious enough that he kept himself secluded in his room, it was obvious from the way that he rubbed at his eyes, and had to blink multiple times before he could finally look at you without shielding his eyes. You end him a wicked smile that slowly grows until you reveal your teeth, the bag in your hand held slightly tighter. In response, he sticks his tongue out at you, his cheeks tinted with a pale shade of pink.
“I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to defeat the boss,” you say, walking towards the bathtub where he sits. You sit in front of the porcelain, your gaze fixated on a television system that he has set up for a more immersive gameplay experience. When you are met with a lack of response, you turn your head to see him with narrowed eyes. “What? No witty remark?” Once more, you’re met with silence. “Levi?”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “I- Fuck, you know?” This time, he’s met with silence. “First, I can’t get the concert tickets, then I can’t even get the new figure and now, I can’t even defeat this stupid game.” His cheeks fill with air, and he slowly lets the breath go past his lips. “And the concert was going to have passes to meet them behind the stage and the figure was signed and-” his character dies once more and the controller is tossed pitifully onto the pillow. He leans over the tub, his arms crossed under his chin, and his eyes on you. “My luck isn’t usually so bad, you know?”
You pat the floor beside you, your hand meeting the cold tile. “Come on, sit beside me,” you comment, shuffling over a few inches to give him even more space. With a huff, he rises out of the tub, small bits of crumbs falling onto the porcelain. He sits beside you, his arm brushing against yours but neither of you make an effort to move.
“I’m sitting, now what?” He asks, the television blurry as it replays his death with the words “Game Over” in bold letters.
“Well, Levi-” you hand him the bag, with fingers pinched over the handles- “since you’re having such rotten luck, why don’t you open the bag?”
He gives you a narrowed stare, slowly retrieving the bag from you and pulling out the pastel colored tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag sits a box, the words of a favorite anime of his stamped beside with the usual font. His heart skips a beat, as he slowly clasps his hand around the box, his fingers pushing against the plastic and he gaps, reality crashing onto him like a wave.
“It’s-” he doesn’t even finish saying the sentence, your nod is an answer to everything. “The figure that I wanted- I- How?” He asks, looking at the box, so worried that if he were to take his eyes away, the box would vanish.
“Ah, ah-” you wag your finger in the air- “that is a story for another time, my dear Leviathan.” You sound so smug and a smile is already evident in your words.
He bounces in his seat, his legs shaking rapidly, knees softly knocking against each other as he lets his excitement show. His hands flap eagerly, his smile wide and eyes closed. A sharp breath is sucked between his teeth, as he stares at you with bright eyes. You’re startled, your shoulders raising a few centimeters into the air with wide eyes as you stare at him. A nervous smile stretches across your face with him so close to you and looking at you with such eager eyes. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’re a bit flustered with how he looks at you. Your heart races and it beats against your chest, rattling at your ribs and echoing against your body. You nod rapidly, gulping what little moisture you have in your mouth when he grabs your hands tightly in him.
He shouts your name, enthusiasm laced into his word, his hands pulling yours close to his chest. “Ah! You’re the absolute best!” His smile is so wide that it’s almost comical, leaving you smiling both in response to and because of him. “I’m so glad that you’re here! Of course, you’d be my Henry!” He drops your hands and pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tightly around you, his head nuzzled into the curve of your neck. “I don’t know what I would do without you, but I’m just glad that you’re the one that’s with me!” He pulls away, his hands now holding onto your biceps. Deep breaths exhale through him, his chest rising and dipping rhythmically. He calls your name and it’s sweet like honey on his tongue. “You really are the best. I mean,” his tone becomes softer, his smile less eager and more true, “you do so much for me. I couldn't ever imagine my life without you. You mean so much to me.”
“Levi,” you mumble, and when his hands fall from you and return to hold the box, you pull the bag towards your face, hiding away from him. Your neck grows hot, scorching your skin and making you breathless. “I’m glad that you like it,” you manage to squeak out, the bag further pressed towards you.
A few seconds pass until he finally realizes why you’ve pulled the bag to your face. Leviathan stiffens, clearing his throat and turning away, his hand covering his lower half of the face. The figurine sits beside him with a delicate smile plastered on their face. With the air so light and heavy, he reached into the tub, eager to pull out the controller. With a meek cough, he fumbles with the controller, passing it over to you, with his eyes still glued on the figurine. “Would you like a turn? Maybe you’re better than me.” He can feel his chest tighten when his fingertips brush against yours and the hundredth time, the game tune plays in the room.
Satan:
Satan’s eyes narrow unconsciously as he reads over the same page for the tenth time. No matter what, he is unable to focus on the words, the letters and lines meshing into one that nothing fully registers past the first word of the page. If he were to be honest with himself, nothing has registered since the last few pages that he’s read. With a huff, he closes the book, a small gust of air blowing at the hair that rests over his forehead. The book rests on the table beside him, nudging against the lamp that makes the room flicker for a brief moment.
The room is filled with sound, the hum of the air conditioner unit, the distant sounds of footsteps and talk across the house, the demonic animals that roam around outside. He’s sure that if he were to focus, he’d even hear the scratching of a pen. Scratch that- he can now that he thought about it. All the sounds make his skin crawl, uncomfortable and itchy and as he drags his nails across his arm, he’s only offered a second of relief before the feeling returns. He leans against the chair, his neck arched over the back of it, as he lets his eyes flutter to a close, the bright light of the library barely shining through his closed eyelids. It’s not like to be so distracted- especially when it comes to a favorite pastime of his. And yet, his mind is distracted, wandering to images of you where you were talking to others that weren’t him. He isn’t the jealous type- at least, not when he compares himself to his brother, but it seems that you brought out something different for him.
His leg twitches and there’s a burning sensation on his arm that he chooses to ignore. It only intensifies when he hears footsteps approaching. The sensation spreads and becomes sharper, insatiable as it burrows itself in the demon. There is a presence standing beside him and he already knows that it’s you. He can tell by the steps, by the breathing, by your scent. He frowns at the thought. He doesn’t know if it’s romantic or not to know such small details about you.
Something clicks- your knee, perhaps- and your hand rests above his slender one, cupping and still, there are gaps where his skin is unfortunate enough to not to be touched by you. “Satan?” You call out to him in a quiet voice- not quite a whisper but not your usual volume either. “Are you asleep?”
“Is it you wondering or someone else?” He responds, slowly opening his eyes and turning his head, meeting the top of yours. “Is there something that you need?” He makes no effort to move, stuck in his position as he is content just sitting on a chair with your hand over his.
“It’s me,” you answer him, turning your head to meet his eyes. His lips slowly turn into a smile with his eyes slowly growing heavy. “You don’t normally sleep in the library without cause. You okay?” Your hand slips from his and his eyes widen his hand closing into a fist, already missing your touch. But, he is soon reconnected with your hand as it rests on his forehead. You soon look down at him with pursed lips. “I- uh, I can’t tell if you have a fever or not.”
He smiles at you and sits up straight, holding in a moan when his back is already sore, feeling the muscles whine as they had already grown taut. “No- No I just, I have quite a few things on my mind, is all.” He gingerly goes to grab your hand in his, uncaring that your eyes are on him and that the door is open for anyone to walk in and see Wrath so tender. “I’m sorry that I worried you.”
Your hand in his is turned, pulled slightly away but not enough to be taken away from his grasp. You walk from the side of the chair to stand in front of him, and when you meet his eyes, you nod down, gesturing to his lap. He smiles softly, nodding his head and leaning back, humming under his breath when you situate yourself on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder.
“You’re oddly touchy today,” he comments, his hand curved on your lap as the one he held is moved to behind his neck, your fingertips barely touching his collarbone. “Did I do something to deserve this?”
You give a half-hearted hum, and in the corner of his eye, he can tell that you have closed your eyes. “Think of it as a way to make you feel better.” You give him a play tap and he nods, his eyes staring straight ahead, lost against the colorful spines of the books. “So what does have you so worked up?”
Is now his chance? Is he now able to tell you the full extent of his feelings? He has you sitting on his lap, comforting him in a way that few people would ever dare to. There's feelings there, bubbling and forming on both ends and he knows that it’s both ends. It’s you that is on his mind. Filtering in when you shouldn’t, invading every space of his that he has until he’s completely overwhelmed. It’s a strong feeling, something that rivals his own wrath and for the first time, he welcomes it- he doesn’t put up a fight against it. He wants to feel whatever it is that you make him feel. He wants the intensity of it until he’s exhausted, until the wrath that has been boiling inside of him ever since he can remember, can finally evaporate, can finally be extinguished.
You call his name once more and he looks at you, his smile tight and eyes closed for a moment. “How do I tell you that I care for you in a way that says exactly what I’m trying to say without scaring you off?” His eyes close and his hand turns over on your thigh, palm open and empty. “How do I tell you that you’re the thing on my mind? That it’s you that is reducing me into a mess at the simple thought of you.” He turns his head enough, shrugging his shoulder to make sure that you’re looking back at him, your chest still and the hand that you had relaxed, is slowly crawling over to his open one. “The thought of you warps into this- this jealous demon that isn’t exactly something I’m fond of. I you to myself and yet, that I want you to myself and that the thought of you with anyone else, makes me more of wrath than I have ever been.” Your hand closes above his and he nods slowly, clasping his hand over yours. “It’s you, and it’ll always be you.”
With a jolt, his words finally register to him. He turns to face you, but you’re buried into his shoulder, your hand holding tightly onto his, as if he were your lifeline and the one over his shoulder is grasping at his sweater, bunching the knit fabric into a mess. Your heart beats over the sound of the room, the hum of the electricity erased, the steps and chatter muffled under you. He smiles softly, a slow chuckle taking over, until he’s laughing widely, his chest shaking and vibrating under you with every laugh. You moan his name and he can only say the first letters of an apology before his laughter takes over.
“Really, really- I’m not laughing at you,” he says through an attempt at laughter. “I just forgot how different you are. How you always seem to change depending on your mood.” He feels a harsh pat against him, your head shaking as you press further into him. “Please, never change,” he says with a laugh at the end, his head turning, his lips meeting against the side of yours in a quick press.
Asmodeus:
He’s flawless. He has to be. Or, maybe he’s just naturally like that. You are not the best when it comes to reading Asmodeus- too enthralled by him that you can’t seemingly tell when he’s told a joke or not that pertains to his beauty. Very little of it matters to you- you may appreciate that he is quite gorgeous, but you’ve also gotten to know the demon that embodies Lust.
Perhaps it’s because he knows who he is, that he is Lust, that he has to appear the best at all times. He can never make a mistake or it’ll be all that’s talked about- he knows as well as anyone else how easily a reputation can be damaged. However, when he looks at you, he doesn’t have to worry about that. He still wants to look his best for you, but he knows that if he were to slip, you wouldn’t see him any differently than how others see him.
You sleep beside him, nestled under his covers, the blanket pulled a little bit past your lips. Your hair is askew, small strands that stick up or curl around your face. Slowly, he takes a slender finger and softens the hair back to you, smiling when you try to lean into his touch. Your eyes flutter open, and you turn before he can see you, yawning and stretching your arms upwards, the cover crumpling above you. You lie still for a few more seconds and he sits upwards, daring to peek at your face. As if already knowing that he was going to watch you, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to make yourself look more refined, to fix your appearance before him. You rub your eyes with a knuckle, turning to him and opening your mouth only to have a yawn cut through.
“Did you have a good nap?” Asmodeus asks, watching as you stretch your limbs, your muscles pulled taut as you let out a whine of satisfaction. You nod in response to him. “I’m glad. You know, I do have to tell you that you were right. I try not to ruin my sleep schedule but that nap felt simply divine. I think I feel more rested than I usually do.”
You smile at him, turning over to rest your head on his chest. His hand immediately comes to curve over the back of your head. “I like sleeping with you. You have such a soft bed and you always give such nice hugs.” He laughs in response, his hand lowering to hold near your shoulder. “It’s true. Devildom is still-” you take a brief pause- “different. And somehow, when I’m with you, all my worries are just-” you blow out a gentle puff of air- “gone.”
“I’m here for whenever you need me. All you have to do is just call,” he comments, his hand running past the sleeve of your shirt, his index and middle fingers touching against your warm skin. “I think it’s almost time for dinner. Would you like to accompany me? I’d be more than happy to take you to that little restaurant we found the other day.”
The edge of your sleeve is toyed with, pinched between the fingers and released. His hand returns to where it lay only to be disturbed when you rise, causing his hand to rest beside him. You give him a blinding smile that makes his heart flutter as he looks at you. “I’d be more than happy to, but I would like to get ready before we go out.” He raises a brow at you, tilting his head to encourage you to continue. “I want to look my best for you.” You lean forward and he smiles, fully ready for a kiss, only to have you pull away and kiss his shoulder. He frowns, his lips pushing towards a pout as he looks at you.
“Not even a kiss?” He asks, a tease of playfulness loosely attached to his words. “I have to say that I’m hurt.” He watches as you move, curling your legs underneath you as you watch him with a hint of smile on your face. “After all that I do for you, and yet, you have the gall to deny me a simple kiss?” he lets out a huff, not trying to hide the smile that graces his features and you. “You should be ashamed of yourself. There are demons who would kiss my steps to even look at me.”
“Asmo,” you call to him and he quiets, looking at you with expectant eyes. Despite him being the demon who can be considered one of the strongest- and is- you’re still the one who holds all the power in the relationship. He nods, encouraging you to continue. “Why do you want to go out with me?”
He can’t help the smile that forms, that twists the already playful one into something more bitter. It’s a question that he asked himself the first time he realized his feelings towards you. He could have it all and you’re just a human with minimal magical abilities. He’s met countless lifeforms who were and are beautiful, their beauty forever imprinted and never seeming to age. But, he still chooses you. And he’s content with that. He’s more than happy that he’s with you.
His thumb traces over your bottom lip, his eyes focused on your cupid’s bow. “You know, there are times when I look at you and I wonder if you see yourself the way that I see you.” He knows what to say, it all comes so natural to him when he compliments you. “Your scars and blemishes, the stretch marks around your tummy and how they pale and wrap around you. The little moles that you have are kissed along your sides and cheeks.” His thumb moves down and now his hand holds yours. “I have to be perfect- I have to be loved and admired, but then I see you and I think to myself how as long as I’m loved by you, that’s enough. You really have changed me in a way I never saw myself. Beauty means everything to me- or at least it did. But now I have you, and I have to admit, that I prefer you over anything else in the world.” He leans forward and lets his lips press against the corners of yours. “I want to go out with you, because to me, you’re the best that there will ever be.”
It all happens in a flash, seeing your face darken, feeling the hand slowly shake and then your face is hidden by the covers. He can hear you whine his name, and when his hand touches between your shoulder blades, his nimble fingers reaching above the collar of your shirt and touching your neck, he can feel how hot it is. He laughs as his arms reach around you and pull you close to him, giggling and accepting your odd human behavior.
Beelzebub:
Detention is quiet, save for the ticking of the clock, but other than that it’s silent. The room is occupied by a total of three people- you, Beelzebub, and the unfortunate professor that is stuck to watch over the two of you who scrolls through their D.D.D. while music plays loudly every now and then. You suspect they are on an app similar to one from the Human Realm, complete with word play and aesthetic from Devildom.
You turn over to Beelzebub, quirking your brows when you see him scribbling over a paper with a pen. You peer over, sitting straighter to get a closer look only to find him mindlessly doodling, similar drawings cover the paper in blue ink. As if feeling your stare, he turns to you with slightly wide eyes before relaxing them, sending you a smile and raising his paper, to show you his work. You return the smile, pleased at his cute antics and his boyish smile. You send him a thumbs up, before the professor coughs, catching the attention from the two of you.
They stand up, their tail curling around their leg and with a yawn, they expose their teeth. Their phone is stuffed into their pocket as they slowly walk to the front of the desk. “I’ll be back. I expect the two of you to still be here. You both have an hour left.” With that, they walk to the door, the heels of their shoes clicking, the door creaking before it finally closes leaving you and Beelzebub alone in a room.
Immediately, you turn to Beelzebub, your chair squeaking as you shift it hastily. “Beel,” you say excitedly, patting your hands on your thighs. He answers with a hum, tilting his head to the side to show that he is listening to you. “You have power over the professors, don't you?” You see the corner of his lip twitch upwards. “I mean you're the Avatar of Gluttony, can’t you just get us both out of here?”
The pen is set down and he leans back on his chair, his legs sliding underneath the desk until they are stretched to their full length. He turns to you, his smile lazy and eyes half-lidded. “I don’t feel like getting in trouble anymore than I already have.” His smile is crooked, teeth barely glimpsing from behind his lips.
“But we’re already in trouble,” you try to argue, pushing forward. “Please?” You lean forward, holding onto his bicep, with a pout on your lips. “If I use the pact powers, I’ll probably be the only one in trouble.”
He snickers, crossing his arms and lowering his head to side his smile. “We have an hour.” He looks up at you, a hand coming to cover yours. “Just sit and wait, okay? I’ll treat you out later.” You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs, pulling away from your touch and turning his own chair to face you, his hand resting over the desk, pulling on the tip of the pen until it is pulled underneath his hand. “What makes you want to go home so early anyways?”
“Why don’t you wanna go home?” You shoot back, your arm bent above the desk, with your chin resting on the palm of your hand. He shrugs in response, his attention back to the paper as he starts to bounce the pen between his index finger and thumb. “What are you drawing, anyways?” it doesn’t go unnoticed that he stiffens at your question, his lips pulling into a thin line as his leg starts to bounce. “It’s the same image, right? Like the same character that you’re drawing?” You lean closer, watching as he bounces the pen faster in his hand.
“It’s- It’s for art class,” he responds, clearing his throat. His hands grab at the paper and for a moment you think he’s about to crumble the paper, but instead he slips it between a notebook, careful to not let an edge slip out before it’s stuffed into his bag. “We have to draw-” he hesitates, squirming under your attention- “a thing.”
“I thought sports took care of your electives?” He sucks in a breath through his teeth, turning his attention to the board smeared with chalky remains. “Oh? Are you lying to me?” Your hand flutters to your heart, your voice faux hurt as your slump over in your seat. “Beelzebub, I’m actually hurt. Here I thought we were close and yet-”
“I’m drawing you,” he says, effectively making you stop in your theatrics. You turn to him, your mouth parted. “I wanted to draw you and give it to you as a gift but I can’t get your smile right.”
“Well that didn’t take much probing,” you mutter, scooting your chair closer to him, the toe of your shoe nudging against his backpack.
“I don’t like lying to you,” he states, his body becoming still and eyes returning to where you sit so close to him. Close enough where he can smell your cream. “I just didn’t want you to find out.”
There’s silence between the both of you, your lips pursed as you nod. “My smile?” He nods. “It should be simple, shouldn’t it?” Just a curve and some smaller curves for the lips and boom, you’re done.” You grab his backpack, holding it in your hands, the opening pointed towards him.
“No,” he says with a frown, pulling the same notebook out and slipping out the paper. Upon closer inspection, the images of what appears to be you are roughly scribbled. They aren’t the best but the thought of him drawing something for you and being nervous about you finding out makes the drawing much sweeter. “You have a nice smile. It’s like- like,” you look up at him to see his brows furrowed. “I don’t know how to explain it. Your smile is nice. It’s a lot more than nice. When you smile at me, it’s just nice. I like seeing you happy. You smiling at me makes me feel special and I don’t want to half-ass some drawing of you. I want to make it special because you’re special to me. Your smile makes me feel warm, like I’m being hugged and everytime you smile, it always reaches your eyes and when your eyes crinkle, it’s like you’re just looking at me and that makes me feel so-” he takes a deep sigh and releases it slowly- “so safe.” His words come to a soft close, his face a warm shade of red. He lets out a nervous chuckle. “That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” When he looks at you, you’ve curled into a ball in your seat, your face buried into his backpack. He calls your name frantically, his hands on your shoulders, only to pull away when you let out a high-pitched whine. “Did I offend you?” His name is muffled between the fabric. “Yeah?”
“You’re really sweet,” you moan pitifully, clutching the bag tighter, hoping that it effectively hides your burning face. “I think I’ll actually die from what you just said.” Your heart beats in your chest, the sweet confession echoing in your ears and when you smile, you can only hide it, not wanting him to see the wide grin that is now plastered across your face. “I’ll take any drawing that you give me.” You hold your hand out, ready to receive the unfinished work, not yet lifting your head.
His hand covers your outstretched one. “Maybe if I can see your smile right now, I’d be able to get it right,” he teases slightly. Your only response is shaking your head, giggling through the fabric as you feebly try to shake his hand away. He laughs widely, holding your hand tighter as he urges for you to look upward at him.
Belphegor:
The room is quiet, no footsteps that echo from above, no noise that travels from the stairs into the room that was once Belphegor’s prison. Beside him, you lay curled on your side, resting against him, your hand playing with a drawstring of his hoodie, playing with the frayed ends at your fingertips.
“I thought being around you would make me sleepy,” you murmur, an ill-placed yawn ruining the validity of your statement.
Even where he lays, he knows that you’re pouting, with your brows knitted together. “It seems that I am already making you quite tired. You only lasted how long?” He’d make a show of checking his nonexistent watch, but he rather not, already too comfortable in his current position to risk moving. You blow a raspberry in response and he lets out a giggle, his hand that is placed underneath you is bent to hold a strand of your hair in between his fingers. “Come on, be nice now. I can also make you unbelievably tired but unable to sleep.”
“You’re so cruel Belphegor,” you say in a whisper, your hand finally still from playing with his drawstring. “You’d take away my sleep for a simple noise? How juvenile,” you tease, nuzzling further into his side, humming when his fingers part through your hair and scratch lightly at your scalp. “Here I am, whisked away from my homework to come and nap beside you. And what do I get in return? Teasing.” The last word slowly drifted off into a simple breath of air that was tickled against his side.
It really hadn’t taken you so long to fall under his own sleeping spell. A part of him is a bit bitter, wanting to spend more time with you where the both of you were conscious and could actually talk, while the other part of him, is simply glad that you’re resting beside him, that you’ve taken time out of your day to lay next to him.
“It’s not like you don’t deserve it,” he says through a smile, twisting your hair around his index. “I mean, out of all the reactions I can get, yours is possibly the best of them.”
“Thank you,” you say, sounding a bit more like a question. “You know, I’m glad that you invited me up here. I haven't been getting the best sleep as of late.”
“You can always come to me,” he’s quick to say, eager so evident in his voice that he’s drowning in it. He wants to be near you, he wants to be with you.
“I don't want to bother you,” you confess with a faint voice.
“You could never bother me.” It’s the truth. He’d crawl to you if it meant even a fraction of your attention would be given to him. He’d do what he could just to hear your voice. You’d never be a bother to him. You’d be his saving grace. It’s silent for a moment, one where he can hear the house come alive under him and feel your breath with even more vigor than before, feeling each and every pause, every gust of air a kiss against his skin that makes him yearn for more. He calls your name, and it’s thick on his tongue- foreign and light, and yet it sounds like he’s said it countless times before, as if he knew the name by heart. You hum in response and he takes a deep breath.
His finger twirls around a small piece of your hair, letting the hair curl around his finger before he releases it, only to do the same thing once more. “I’m always surprised that you let me get so close,” he says in a quiet voice, careful to not ruin the moment but a part of him knows that it might have been ruined already when it alludes to him. He can feel your eyes on him, watching him carefully as your lips part. “I know that I’m not exactly a knight in shining armor or anything and uh-” he lets the strad of your hair go, watching it bounce in freedom- “I just want you to know that I appreciate that you even let me touch you. I really like you, you know? I think you’re a much better person than I’ll ever be.” His lips stretch into a bittersweet smile that soon falls into a frown, twisting his features into something more somber. You say his name and it makes his breath hitch, a hiccup in his throat as his name fills the momentary silence. “I mean it. I think that’s why I- why you mean so much to me. I could never be like you. I can only admire you from afar and want you for myself.” He lets out a breathless puff of air that has humor etched into it. “I just wanted you to know that you mean a lot more to me than I’ll ever be able to put into words.”
With every continuation of his words, you felt your body respond to him. Your stomach twists with butterflies causing a storm inside of you, your chest tight and the sweet relief of air has escaped your lungs, and you’re hot, heat flush against your face and creeping from your chest and upward. You wonder if he could hear every change in your breathing, in your heart that beats, in just you.
He looks at you through half closed eyes and for once, you don’t think that it’s sleep that’s causing his soft smile and tender eyes. You stiffen, your muscles going rigid under his stare. The pillow is cool under your face as you stay hidden from him, gripping at the edges and turning away from his gaze, unable to keep as tight face as a smile creeps across your face.
He laughs as you lower your head, hiding your face from his after the tender words that were shared. “Come on, was it that easy to make you flustered?” He teases, the bed dipping as he moves. His hand tugs on the pillow that is held tightly in your grasp. “Oh come on, just look up,” he whines, weakly tugging at the pillow. “Seriously, you’re so dramatic and for no reason. It shouldn’t be news to you that I like you.” His smile is clear in his voice, light and full of kittenish behavior. “If you don’t pay attention to me, I’m going to continue, you know.” His grin widens when you finally peek at him, and he can’t help but laugh.
Diavolo:
There is chatter in the room, accompanied by the heels of shoes that click against the tiled floor. The room is lit in an orange glow that makes the atmosphere of the room seem almost dream-like. You tug wine glass, pulling it closer to you, careful to not let a drop spill over and stain the pristine white tablecloth. You glance around the room, watching people chat amongst themselves, their own eyes glued to their partners.
You look at the prince before you who takes a sip from his glass, his tongue peeking to wipe at the taste on his lips. “Diavolo?” The glass is set down and he looks at you with slightly widened eyes. “When I said I wanted to go out for dinner, I was fine with just some Akudonalds or ya know-” you glance once more around the room, your gaze focused on the silverware set carefully in front of you- “anything.
“This is anything,” he says, his smile cool and hands resting above the table. “We hardly go out and when we do, the others tend to accompany us. While I enjoy their company, I’d also like to just enjoy yours. So I thought, since this is a rare occasion, we’d make the best of it.” He leans close to you, and you know that there is no malice or hidden intention with him. He is honest, able to tell you what he wants without finding it necessary to hide himself. “If you are uncomfortable with such a restaurant, we can always go somewhere else, next time.”
“It’s not that, it’s just-” you clear your throat, leaning against the table, lowering your voice- “I’ve never been to such a high-end place. I don’t want you to overspend because of me. I’m fine just going somewhere low-key.”
He laughs, shaking his head and his fingers drum against the table. I’m a prince. There’s no such thing as overspending and even if there were, I don’t mind it if it’s you that I’m doting on.” You nod slowly, your fingers running at the edge of the fork handle. “Really, there is no need to worry. I’m just happy that you agreed to join me on this outing.”
You do your best to not shake your legs, mindful of the wine beside you. “‘M glad I was able to join you as well. I- I like spending time with you.” You smile sweetly at him, a hint of nerves tracing against your smile. “I just have to admit that I was taken aback when you invited me out. I know you mentioned how it’s always us with the others, but I don’t know-” you fingers find themselves tracing around the base of the glass- “I guess I always figured you liked me because I was able to get you out of work since you know, I am part of your work. I never would have assumed that you actually wanted to spend time with me.”
For a moment, it’s silent, a brief moment that couldn't even be considered silent, just a short pause but it's enough for him. “May I admit something to you?” Diavolo asks, his hands fiddling with the napkin beside himself. You nod, leaning forward, urging him to continue. “I was always fascinated with humans. I loved humans- they were these beings who had free will and they all lived different lives but in the end they shared the same fate.” He chuckles softly and his hand goes to the stem of the wine glass. “It’s the same for demons, of course. Any life can be taken and for the most part, they have free will, but I think I love humans. Or at least I thought I did.” He looks up at you, his smile faltering for a moment as he struggles to keep it up. “But I think rather than love, I hold admiration for their humanity. For their tenacity, and kindness; their love and warmth that they have with each other. And when I look at you-” his hand leaves the glass and is left open towards you- “I’m reminded of how beautiful humans can be.” His smile turns bitter for a moment, falling and he makes no attempt to keep up the facade. “I’m reminded just how fragile they are. I need you to know that I admire humanity, but I think I love you. I love how you do your best to help those around you, how you adapt to your environment, and just how easily you can make others fall for you.” He lets out a short laugh through his nose. “If I have to be honest, I think I’m also jealous of you. I wish I were the only one who could have the opportunity to fall for you.” His hand is still held out towards you, vacant without yours.
Throughout his monologue your body has been on fire, pooling in your stomach and against your back. You stare at his empty hand, trying to will yourself to hold it but the most that you can do is lay your head on the table, silverware clicking together and a dull thud heard. You want to let out a whine but you’re sure you’ve already called attention to yourself and- oh dear. What will people think of when they see Lord Diavolo with a human who has planted their face against a table. Your thoughts race, clouding your mind as the silence in the room is deafening, echoing in your ears as you rest with your face down.
“Is this a human custom?” Diavolo asks, his voice full of genuine wonderment. “Should I also be doing it?”
“Dia,” you mumble, your body slowly squeezing against itself in order to make yourself smaller. “You can’t confess so nonchalant,” you say in a hushed whisper, wanting to let out any type of noise that is slowly building up inside of you. “It’s- It’s too much for me,” you whine, slowly raising your head to peer at him.
“Well, I am a prince- a demon one at that. I suppose you can say that there are different customs for us as well.” His smile is jovial, and he reaches across the table, his hand open and this time you take it. Unable to look him in the eye, you resort to watching as his hand slowly threads to intertwine himself with you. “I must say, if that’s the response I were to get, I might as well continue it. I rather liked whatever it was that you did.” He’s so honest, looking at you with a wide grin that shows his pointed teeth and you can’t help but bury your face once more, grinning when you hear him let out a small laugh, his hand closing around yours.
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duskholland · 3 years
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Ritual || Boxer!Tom Smut
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boxer!tom x reader — smut.
summary ↠ with the championship fight less than two weeks away, tom adopts a series of frustrating pre-match rituals.... based off the request ↠ ‘boxer!tom refuses to have sex for two weeks before a big match then he wins a belt and becomes the top boxer and his s/o patches him up like she does after every match, but it quickly turns into really intense victory sex with dom!tom’ I changed a couple bits but this is pretty much the same :)) warnings ↠ this gets very, very smutty. for that reason, 18+ pls !! extended nsfw warnings are beneath the cut but this spirals into v intense smut. so just. watch out pls. word count ↠ 8k a/n ↠ I almost died when I wrote this. truly. I felt a piece of my soul leave my body. sheeeesh. anyway uh... this was a lot of fun to write! I found out so many fun facts about sports psychology whilst researching this, so thanks boxer!tom for enlightening me on the fun world of pre-match-rituals. enjoy!
*:·゚✧*:·゚✧ *:·゚✧*:·゚✧ *:·゚✧*:·゚✧
extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!
*:·゚✧Ritual ✧·゚:*
Thump. Smack. Thump.
Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.
You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.
He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.
You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.
“Having fun?”
You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.
“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.
Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.
“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”
You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”
Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”
When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.
No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.
“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”
You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.
“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”
He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”
You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”
Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.
“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”
He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.
“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.
“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”
Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.
“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”
To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.
“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.
“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.
“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.
“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.
“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.
“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”
He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.
“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”
“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”
Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.
“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”
Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.
“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”
———
The days burn by slowly.
About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.
If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.
So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.
You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—
You can’t cum.
A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.
You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.
“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”
You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.
“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.
“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”
Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”
Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.
“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”  
Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.
“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”
“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”
His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.
“I- I guess.”
Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.
“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.
You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.
“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”
You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.
“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”
“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”
———
If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.
It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.
“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”
In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.
“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”
It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.
“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”
It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.
As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.
“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”
Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.
“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”
It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.
“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”
Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.
“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.
You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”
“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”
You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.
“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”
“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.
“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”
You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.
“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”
Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.
“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”
You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.
“Love you, champ.”
He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.
“Love you too, darling.”
———
The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.
It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.
Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.
When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.
The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.
Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.
It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.
The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.
“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.
Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.
“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.
“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you.”
He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.
“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”
You nod.
“Don’t be late.”
———
You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.
Then, you wait.
You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.
“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”
You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.
“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.
Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”
“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”
“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”
You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.
“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”
Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”
“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”
“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”
Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.
You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.
“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.
“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”
You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”
Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”
“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”
Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”
You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.
Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”
Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.
“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”
You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”
Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”
You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.
“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.
“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”
Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—
“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”
Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.
“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”
You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.
“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”
He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.
“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”
Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.
“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”
When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.
“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”
Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.
“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”
He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.
“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.
Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.
“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”
It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.
“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”
You whimper, your chest heaving.
“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”
“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”
It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.
You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.
“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”
A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.
“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”
Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”
You smile softly. “Love you too.”
Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.
“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”
You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.
“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”
Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.
“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”
———
:)) I rlly like this tbh. I hope you do too !
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spicy-tomato · 3 years
Note
Can i pls req dream being reader's sugar daddy :O - 🌼
sorry this took a hot sec ive been working on this one for a while cause i really liked the idea, so here you go :)) it ended up being like 2k words so im sorry
You had it all, anything you could want and more. Wanted to go to rome? Done, your plane leaves tomorrow. Dream absolutely spoiled you and you couldnt be more happy about it. It started off as a thing to help you with rent, but the longer you did it the more you enjoyed being able to get what you wanted when you wanted. Today was your weekly lunch with dream, you had both agreed that at least once a week he would take time off to get lunch with you, it made you smile to see him take time for you. As the tease you were, you decided to wear something a little revealing to tease him since he had cancelled your shopping trip with him the day before. You put on a low cut crop top and some shorts that show a little too much before fixing your hair. You hear you phone ding, getting a text from dream,
Daddy dream <3
Hey baby, i'm out front whenever youre ready to go
You smile and put your phone in your pocket before walking out to his car and getting in. you kiss his cheek quickly “hi daddy” you giggle and smile at him
“Hi sweetheart” he looks you up and down before smirking “like the outfit, all for me?” you giggle and nod before he starts to drive to the restaurant, one hand on your thigh. “Do you know what you want? You know the rule, anything you want no matter the price. And after that we can go shopping to make up for my cancelling yesterday.” you smile at him
“I know, and we dont have to dream, we can just hang out. Its been a while since we did that. Maybe we can go somewhere for you to make it up to me instead” he smiles and squeezes your thigh as he pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant.
“Anywhere you want baby, only the best for you.” you look down and blush, moving over to lean your head on his shoulder as he moves a hand to pet your hair. “Ill take you anywhere anytime and get you anything you want.” you cant lie, at times you had thought about being more than just his sugar baby, having a real romantic relationship, but he was always so busy that it made it seem almost impossible. Sure he took time out to be with you but it was never a lot unless you were traveling. He didnt tell you a lot about his job either, just knew that he had a large following and that he didnt want anything serious and put his partner in a bad situation, but damn if you havent thought about him coming home to you and calling you his.
“Baby? You okay? You zoned out.” he waves a hand in front of your face and you blink back to reality.
“Yeah, sorry i just got a little distracted. Lets go get some food!” you pull away from him and he gets out, walking around to open your door for you and holds a hand out to help you. “Thank you” you smile and take his hand as you step out, he closes the door behind you and puts an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as you both walk up to get a table. You get seated immediately and he pulls your chair out for you. “Is there a single flaw with you?” you ask genuinely, he just laughs and shakes his head.
“Theres a bunch you dont know about me, sweetheart.” you roll your eyes as the waitress comes back with your mimosa and his water, asking for your orders. He orders for you and him before she walks off to put them in. He always knows what you want and orders it for you. It makes you smile that he likes to take care of you. You shake that thought away and go back to mindlessly talking with him, waiting on the food. It comes shortly and you both start to eat. “Where do you want to go? Japan? Italy? Oh we havent been to paris in a while, maybe there.”
“I think paris would be great, its always so pretty this time of year, maybe we can have dinner on the eiffel tower again!” your eyes light up at the thought of going back to paris. Last time you went was last spring, you both walked around and had the most wonderful time people watching and shopping. You take another bite and he looks like hes about to say something before he stops himself and looks down. “What is it? Is something wrong?” you look at him concerned, scared you messed something up.
“Its nothing darling, dont worry.” you both finish up lunch and he pays before helping you up and leading you back to the car. “I have something id like to ask you when we get to paris if thats okay, its nothing bad i promise its just something ive been meaning to ask for a while is all.” you nod as he opens the door for you and helps you in. “now, a pretty girl like you needs pretty new clothes for the trip, lets go get you some.” he smiles at you as he gets in, resting a hand back on your thigh as he starts the car, leading you both to the mall.
You spend hours in there going to different stores and trying things on, him getting you whatever you wanted without any hesitation. You walk back to the car with armfulls of bags and a couple new suitcases. “Thank you so much daddy, youre the best.” you kiss his cheek and he turns a little red.
“Its no problem baby, why dont you stay over tonight and we can leave in the morning to head to the airport. I can help you pack and we can watch a movie.” you smiles and nod, putting your bags in the back of the car and your new suitcases in the trunk.
“Id like that…” you think for a second about how nice it would be to wake up next to him every day and how nice it is to fall asleep next to him when it happens, even if when you did wake up after he wasnt next to you. The cold bed always made you remember that you would never be more than this, not that this was bad in the least its just sometimes you wish you could be more. He drives you both back to his apartment building and helps you out, grabbing most of your bags, only leaving you to grab the suitcases as you enter the building. He lived on the top floor in the penthouse, expected for how much money he had. You set your stuff down in his room, your new clothes already laid out nicely thanks to him. He walks up behind you and hugs you from behind.
“Youll look so good in all of those baby, gonna be the prettiest one in paris.” he kisses your neck softly before pulling away and taking your hand, leading you to sit on the part of the bed not covered by clothes. “Let me go run you a bath and you can pick out a movie.” you nod and he walks to the bathroom, leaving you alone on the bed. You turn on the tv and start scrolling through netflix looking for a movie, finally deciding as he walks back in and picks you up. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, moving your head to rest on his chest as he carries you to the bathroom. He sets you on the counter and takes your shirt off carefully, leaving kisses down your neck and chest and he moves down to take your shorts off. You lift yourself gently to help him take your shorts off. He takes them off quickly before nipping and kissing your inner thighs, ghosting over your core. You whine and try to move closer to him before he presses your hips down into the counter.
“Stay still baby, dont wanna have to punish you. Daddy just wants his desert.” you nod quickly and stay still, his head diving to softly kiss your clit, causing you to whine. He chuckles and starts to slowly eat you out, almost at a teasing pace. You whine and grip the counter, trying to keep from pulling his hair. He pulls away and smiles, “good girl, being so good and not pulling my hair. Just letting daddy eat you up.” after he says that his hands move down to your thighs open as he starts to eat you out like a man starved. You let out a loud moan and throw your head back, your hands moving to his hair and tugging closer. At this point he didnt care about you pulling his hair, to blissed out by hearing your sweet moans and tasting you. Your cries became louder as he dragged you closer to the edge. as you were almost there he stopped, causing a loud whine from you as he moves up to face you. He looked like heaven like this, face covered in your slick with eyes dark from lust.
“Now my good little girl, i want you to get off the counter and bend over for daddy.” you quickly move off the counter and do as your told. “Such a perfect little girl, i want you to watch as i make you feel good, got it? You look away and i stop,” he chuckles and grabs your neck after you nod. His hand moves from your neck to your hair to hold you in place, making eye contact with him through the mirror.
“Such a precious little pet for me, arent you?” you whine as he lines up with your entrance, teasing you, causing you to press your hips back against him. He smacks your ass roughly and pulls you against his chest by your hair. “Thats not very nice bun, its almost like you want me to leave you all worked up.’’ he smirks at you before pulling you roughly back against him, ripping a scream from your throat. He sets a brutal pace, leaving no time for you to adjust to him. He keeps the pace, your legs starting to shake as he brings you back to the edge of your orgasm before quickly throwing you over it. You let out a cry of his name, trails of tears starting to run from your eyes as he keeps going.
“Pretty little bunny, always so good and tight for me. Gonna breed you so good. Fuck you until i know it takes.” he tugs your hair roughly and starts to bite and suck at your neck, leaving marks in his wake. You whine and cry, moving your hands to tug at his hair. “So close princess, gonna fill you up so good.” he moves a hand to your clit to punctuate his statement, causing a louder cry to come from you as you tip over the edge once again. His hips start to stutter as he fills you up, riding out his high with shallow thrusts letting out a few more quiet moans before pulling out of you carefully. You whine and tug at his hair as he does so. He picks you up carefully as he pulls away.
“i figured we could take a bath and then cuddle before we pack and figure out what time we should leave for the airport.” you nod and he carries you carefully over to the tub, setting you down carefully in it before getting and sitting behind you. He starts to wash your hair as you slowly drift off to sleep. You wake up briefly as he lifts you from the tub and carries you to the bed. He moves the blankets back and sets you down gently before crawling in next to you , pulling the blankets back over you.
“Be my partner,” he says as you turn towards him
“Only if we can still go to paris” you giggle and he nods, kissing the top of your head before you both drift off.
660 notes · View notes
hoe-doroki · 3 years
Text
steel and lace
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minors do not interact
warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie
pairing: bakugou x fem!reader
wc: 3.8k
summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.
a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333
edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop
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Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.
Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.
What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.
Every year he regretted it.
The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.
Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?
And the singing.
If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.
But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.
But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.
Well. Guess what happened?
“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”
Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.
Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”
Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”
“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”
Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.
“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”
Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.
“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”
Oh. So that was it.
Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.
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It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.
But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.
And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.
At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.
When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.
Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.
It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.
Like barren.
For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.
No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.
He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.
He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.
You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.
“New prototype. You like?”
The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.
But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.
So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.
Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.
You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.
Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.
“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.
“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”
Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.
“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”
That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.
“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.
And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.
“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”
“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.
There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”
You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.
He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.
After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.
“Ready?” he asked.
Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.
Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.
“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”
You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.
“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”
Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.
“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.
No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.
“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”
The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.
“God you feel so big.”
“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”
The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.
“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”
“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.
Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.
“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”
Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.
“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”
All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.
He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.
Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.
Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.
“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”
You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.
“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”
In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.
“A fucking lingerie line?”
A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”
Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”
“But Katsuki,” you whined.
“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.
There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.
He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.
“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”
Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.
“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.
“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”
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prettypinkpuddles · 3 years
Note
Kinktober number 2 for Toji from jjk 🛐
That I can do! Luckily it’s the weekend and I have all the time in the world these days… hopefully.
Shower Sex with Toji
Fem Reader for this one… sorry!
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♡︎𝙰/𝙽- 𝚂𝚘 𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝚄 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚃𝚘𝚓𝚒 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚎𝚝𝚌.
♡︎𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜- 𝙱𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝙽𝚎𝚠𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐
⚠︎︎𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐- 𝚈/𝙽 𝚒𝚜 𝚂𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝚈 𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚜𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚢. 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚃𝚘𝚓𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚜
♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎
Parties like this bored you. All you did was decorate your husband’s arm, drink fruitless cocktails, eat chilled meat on a spiced cracker and smile and giggle. But this wasn’t the party you were expecting, first one woman left her husband’s side, then two more, then you found yourself leaving, taking with women about anything you could think of. You were there all night, sometimes leaving to get a glass of champagne one of the waiters were carrying. You knew all the now wife-less men were watching you catwalk you way to the bubbly, so you’d put on a show for them each time, fixing your top, swaying you hips as you turned to walk back, or stop and look for something non-existent, making sure to show your chest, it’s was practically spilling out your v-line.
When you got home, you realized just how much you had drank, almost tripping over your own heel. You stopped on the entertainment floor, remembering you left your phone there.
“Hi, Gumi, Itadori…” You waved to the two boys, them playing on one of the many consoles in the room. Megumi turned and waved to you, and Itadori couldn’t even look at you, his ears red and burning. He squeaked out a simple greeting and kept as much focus on the game as possible. You giggled and walked back to the elevator, clicking for the bed floor. You found Toji there, and he seemed rather mad. He grabbed a drink from one of the mini fridges and sat in one of the chairs, flicking on the giant tv. You walked up to him, leaning over the chair, draping your arms over him.
“I’m sorry, but the girls were so interesting… I made so many friends! More than I do at the other parties…” You put on a sympathetic pout on but he wasn’t buying it. “I just wanted a change..”
You sulked off, slipping out of your heels and putting them by the balcony door. You walked out and rested on the edge, staining at the ant-like people on the oh so low street. You felt a pair of large warm around hug you in place, a gentle sigh coming out from Fushiguro’s chest.
“I know how bored you get… I’m sorry I got so mad. I just like showing you off to the douches there, thats all.” He mumbled, lighting a cigarette. He took a puff and blew out in the direction the wind was flowing so it would land on you. You playfully reached up for the thing and but he said no.
Toji doesn’t like when you smoke, he wants you as healthy as possible. You knew this but still tried to take the smoke he had, no matter if it was a cigar or weed.
You slipped from his grip, telling him to enjoy his cig, walking off to your maid’s room, seeing her fast asleep. She must’ve been in a huge panic to get everything cleaned, she was still in uniform, not under the covers. You giggled and let her sleep, walking to the elevator. You slipped off your dress, knowing Toji was watching you, but you ignored him as he stared bullets into your back, pushing the button for the bathroom floor. You slipped off your panties, putting them on the elevator floor and immediately dipping yourself in one of the hot springs. You let out a broken groan of relief, the stinging water kissing and flicking your skin, as you sat down you reached for a white cloth and close hair tie. You put your hair up as best you could without a mirror, slipping deeper in the water. You heard the elevator ding and saw Toji walk up behind you.
He swiftly joined you, settling next to you.
“This is sooo nice.” I love this damn tub.” You smiled, and he kissed your forehead, pulling you on his lap. You took hold of his hand, putting his hand on your ass. You put your head in the crook of his neck, dozing off as you listened to his heartbeat and his voice as he spoke of everything he saw at the party.
“Y/N, wake up, shower.”
You opened your eyes and giggled at him, get out the tub and getting in the glass shower. It was right in front of a mirror so you could see yourself, you ethereal you found yourself and you sighed; reaching up to one of the lavender plants growing at the top(the garden floor above you).
You grabbed the shower nozzle, spraying the suds off you, the water lingering over your lower half a bit too much. You bit your lip, keeping it there until a knock on the glass made you scream. You looked to see Toji, a smug smirk on his face and a towel wrapped around him. He hung the towel over the glass and stepped in with you, pulling you and himself under the running water.
“Water’s nice, huh?” You grinned and he pushed his lips to yours, putting down the shower nozzle. You began kissing down his neck, mumbling about how nice it feels to be in the shower after a pretentious day. You manage to get yourself on your knees, right at your destination. You planted yourself right under his dick; a perfect match to your liking, it just just the right size for you and always had a pretty clear bead of precum at its head when Toji got hard.
You licked the tip of it, wrapping your lips over it, swirling and twisting your tongue around it, slowing engulfing it until you hit the base. You let out a sultry moan, looking up at Fushiguro.
“You good down there? I can do it?” He asked, holding his hand on your head. You nodded, letting out a hum and he gripped your ponytail, shoving your head back and forth on his cock. You choked and gagged as little as you could, taking as many fluids down your throat as possible. He held you at the base at one point for a few good seconds, letting you get a good breathe before he continued his self pleasure with your mouth and throat.
He finally yanked you off, releasing himself down the drain as you caught your breathe. You quickly got back to him and waited for his loving cum, looking at him with a pouty, annoyed look when you realized what he’d done.
He chuckled and got on his knees, helping you stand and pulled you over his face. You bit your lip devilishly.
“Do that thing you did… that time we were in the kitchen, and you put that whipped cream on me, you tongue felt sooo- Ah~! Fuck….”
Toji began ravishing your cunt, stimulating every part he could at once. You tugged his hair, dipping yourself into his mouth until he began to suck on your clit, flicking it at rapid speed. You squealed like a pig, trying to push him off, but you couldn’t. His hands were firmly on your waist and lower back. He relented and let you go, standing back up and kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him pick you up and put you under the water again. He quickly slipped himself inside you, so the water wouldn’t wash all the slick away from your pussy.
“Ooh fucking… shit!” You couldn’t hold you moans back, sure the boys could hear you even in with Toji’s fingers around your throat. He pounded away at your sopping cunt, his grunt being drowned by the rushing water. He suddenly pushed you to one of the glass walls, still fucking your little hole and you began digging your nails into his back and shoulders.
“You wanna cum that badly huh?” He breathed and you shouted a yes as response. He chuckled, bucking his hips into you even more. You desperately wanted an orgasm, trying to match his thrust but it was futile; he put you down, turned you around and now you could see yourself. The mirror, you could see it.
You wiped the clouding fog away, able to see Fushiguro fuck the life out of you. The way your face contorted in pure pleasure, the movement of your fits, the slapping sound you could hear. Your eyes became hooded with lust, more languid, drawn out groans coming from your throat. Toji pulled you up to him, biting down on your neck hard, his fingers going at your nipples and clit. “Cumming! Fuck-!” You choked on your cries of pleasure, an orgasm flooding your veins with an overloading pleasure. You shook in Toji’s hands, falling limp as he turned to let you get rinsed one more time.
He peppered your face and neck with kisses and sucks, carrying you to the bed floor. He went into one of the room with colored lights, set you in the bed and changed the colors to a deep blue. He settled in and pulled you onto his chest, humming to make sure you weren’t knocked out already. You popped your head up with a hum of pure confusion, which made your husband smile.
“You were green the whole time, right?” He asked and you nodded.
Green was one of your safe words, you used them when you got into new stuff or some form of dangerous physical or mental play. There was Green to let Toji know you were fine and you were actually having fun, Yellow to tell him you were ok, just to make something a little less, like his roughness, grip or pace. Orange to tell him to stop or not do something anymore and Red to stop the play completely. You’ve rarely told him red, or yellow. You were mostly green because you loved everything you did with Fushiguro.
“Did you get my present in the elevator…?” You whispered.
“I did, of course you wore red…. It’s your go-to when it comes to those parties…”
“Well my dress was black, simple.” You grinned and put your head on his chest, slowly loosing focus in the conversation and drifting off to sleep.
Bonus
You woke to find a nice breakfast awaiting you, fluffy pancakes, melted butter with cinnamon, maple syrup, eggs with cheese, salt, and pepper, and of course bacon. You found a note folded up for you from Toji.
𝔾𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕟𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘, 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟, ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤
You smiled and ate your food, got dressed and went out to the other beds, seeing the boys passed out. You smiled at how contempt they were, remembering how cute they were together playing their game. Then you thought back to last night, how the elevator rang twice before Fushiguro met you in the bath… the pause in the rings. You recall how long it can take for the elevator to reach a floor, the distance of the entertainment floor to the bed floor. The bathroom floor was the floor two floors above the entertainment floor… so the elevator hit the entertainment floor befor picking up Toji. You tested your hypothesis, checking the elevator rings. You were right. You gasped, realizing one of the boys must’ve seen your little ‘gift’ before Toji.
You giggled of embarrassment for you and them, and of how funny it was.
158 notes · View notes
world-of-aus · 3 years
Text
I’ve Got You
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: 18+ (use of vibrator, fingering, p in v, use of daddy, princess, and sir) If you are not 18+ please stop reading here! This is not for your eyes!
A/N: this was supposed to be out this weekend BUT life happens! Anywho this is my first time trying out a more dominant(soft) side of Bucky, but with tales of submission being released in the near future I need to dip my toes somewhere and I’ll be honest I was thirst trapped all weekend. Please enjoy my mess. Happy Readings!
All Other Work Can Be Found On My Pinned Page!
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He’s hard; cock twitching in his slacks as he watches you writhe helplessly on the bed.
“Bucky please,” you plead the noise dying off into a moan as a jolt of pleasure courses through you.
“Sorry what was that princess,” he hums over the sound of the vibrator buried between your legs.
You pull against the restraints holding you to the board of the bed, a smirk tugs at his lips, “what’s wrong,” he coos, “you wanted to cum didn’t you,” he questions, “you wanted to cum so badly that you even broke the rules I set for you,” his legs part, his hand gliding down his torso to cup his aching cock. “If you really stop and think about it, I’m just helping you out.”
“In fact,” he murmurs squeezing his length a low hiss falling from his lips, “why don’t you thank me for being so generous?”
He watches you writhe on the bed, your muscles tense as you try and pull away from the onslaught of pleasure coursing between your parted legs.
“Please,” you breathe, the clanking of the metal cuffs adding to the rushed noise of the room.
Bucky raises a brow, his hand stills then moves away as he sits forward. You stop moving though your thighs quiver with the anticipation of release.
“I didn’t ask you to beg princess, what I did tell you was to thank me for being so generous and letting you cum, don’t you think daddy deserves a thank you from his good girl?”
Your hips begins to roll against the vibrator, a giveaway that your moments from falling apart.
“Well,” he questions with a smirk, “what do we say princess?”
Your lips part a moan tumbling out, “t-thank you s-sir - oh god,” you squeal as your head falls back body taut and tense as your orgasm hits you.
Buckys smirk turns predatory as he watches you fall apart on the silk sheets.
A growl bubbles deep within his chest as he pushes off the chair stalking towards you.
Too lost in the pleasure you don’t catch when he closes the distance between the two of you, don’t feel the moment the bed dips or his hands reach for the strap that holds the toy to your wet heat.
Bucky wastes no time getting his hands on you, his fingers delving into your slick. Your eyes pop open back arching almost instantly as he fucks his fingers roughly into your heat.
He revels in the moans he’s drawing from you, the pleas falling from your lips, “you’re so beautiful, all spread out like this for me.”
“Bucky please,” you whine, “please,” and he can hear the struggle you give against the cuffs.
His fingers don’t slow as he looms over you, “oh you want to touch, is that it, princess wants to touch?”
You whine low in your throat, pulling on the cuffs further as you let out a pitiful ‘yes please’.  
Bucky tsked a smirk tugging at his lips as he flicked his thumb over your clit drawing your pleasure further, “see now that's too bad,” he answers, “you should have thought about that before you touched yourself, didn’t I tell you what would happen if you disobeyed tonight?”
Your thighs clenched, muscles tense at the approach of your second orgasm, though the pleasure was masked by the smack to your spread legs, “answer me,” he growls, “didn’t i tell you what would happen if you disobeyed?”
You give a futile nod, “yes what,” he questions with another smack to your thigh, his fingers stilling altogether. A low whine leaves your lips, “y-yes you told me there would be consequences if i disobeyed your rules.”
“and what rule did you disobey princess,” he questions his fingers moving within you once more.
“I-i touched myself before you got home.”
“You touched yourself before I got home,” he murmurs, his fingers buried deep in your wet heat, digits curled as he sought out the bundle of nerves that would have you screaming his name a second time.
“and since you decided to touch yourself without permission, now you don’t get to touch at all isn’t that right?”
A whine leaves your lips because god did you want to touch; wanted to feel the littered scars that kissed his sculpted body, but you had disobeyed, and you know daddy didn’t like to play. 
A smirk kisses the corner of his mouth, his body covering yours as he leans down to press his lips to yours. Its a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue as he demands that you cum, “C’mon princess,” he growls, fingers pressed in deep, “come for me baby, come on daddy’s fingers.”
He swallows the loud moan of his name, his tongue sliding into your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure. You struggle against the restraints, your body trying to roll away from his fingers the pleasure overwhelming.
“ah, ah, ah,” he growls his hand slipping away from the slick between your legs, “don’t put up a fight if you know what's good for you, and you know what's good for you, don’t you princess,” he questions his pussy slicked fingers gliding up your naked body.
“yes daddy.”
“now that's a good girl,” he hums, “open, get my fingers cleaned up.”
Your lips part tongue peeking out as he brings his dips the digits passed your parted lips.
“you see, you can be good for me,” he groans grinding his aching cock against your hip, “you can be so good for me can’t you,” he questions his fingers slipping out of your lips with a wet ‘pop’.
And you were good for him, you were so good for him, but sometimes you liked to rile the burly man up, liked to see how much you could get out of him.
“You gonna be a good girl and let daddy fuck this pretty pussy,” he hums fingers gliding back down to your heat
Your cunt throbs with want; the filthy promise filling you with the desire to be filled, “please,” you moan.  
“god I know you want it, always so eager for it,” he answers as he pulls away, “look at this pretty pussy,” he sounds wrecked and you’ve barely done a thing.
His fingers dipping into your heat have all coherent thoughts flying out the window, ‘fuck me’ you thought.
“you want me to fuck you princess,” he whispers leaning down to nip at you ear.
“Yes please, want you, need you to fuck me daddy,” you answer leaning up to press your mouth to his.
Bucky growls against your lips, “since you asked me so nicely.”
You watch with dazed - hungry eyes as he pushes up his hands working his own slacks down, cock springing free from the confines of his blackened material. 
Your tongue runs over your bottom lip, “like what you see sweetheart,” he grins pumping himself a few times, the tip running over you wet folds.
Another plea falls from your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance sinking in slowly, low groans falling from both of your mouths.
Bucky’s head falls back feeling your pussy clench around his aching member, “fuck that feels so good,” he hisses through gritted teeth. He falls forward forehead pressing against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face.
His eyes are dark with desire; as he sits sheathed inside of you, a desperate need grows from within you as you feel his cock throb inside of your warmth.  
“fuck me, please fuck me,” you moaning against his lips.
His hips pull back slowly, his cock dragging within you leaving behind a delicious burn, he’s just at the tip before he’s slamming back in. The pace he sets is relentless, your body sliding against the sheets till he has you nearly pressed against the head board.
His hips drive into you, hands keeping you in place as he fucks up into you.  
Moans of his name falling from your lips, in a desperate plea for release.
His thrusts grow wild, desperate, muscles tense under your legs that keep him bound to you. You loved having Bucky like this; so desperate, so needy,  so very out of control.
Your close and Bucky can tell, your walls clenching around him tightly as he draws your wound up body closer to release, “you going to cum for me sweetheart, cum all over my cock,” he questions fingers sliding down to circle your aching clit.
A loud moan is falling from your lips as he drops in close to you,“Cum for me y/n, come on baby cum for me,” he moans into your ear, licking over the shell of it, that’s all it takes for him to have you falling apart in his arms. Your back arches, chest pressing into his as your orgasm takes over your body. The moans falling from your lips is enough to send him over as well, his warmth filling you up, “fuck y/n!” he groans continuing to fuck you through both your orgasms.
He slumps forward body crushing yours, face nuzzling your neck as he breathes you in, “you did so good for me princess, so good,” he murmurs.
Your hands tug at the restraints fingers aching with the need to touch, Bucky’s picks up on the urgency.
“I’ve got you baby, don’t worry I’ve got you.”
WorldofAUs Forever Tag-list: @cap-n-stuff-main @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes @kseniiafirebrace @sideeffectsofyou @pinknerdpanda​ @thefridgeismybestie @b0nkybarnes @oliviastan17 @fandom-basurero​ @lookiamtrying​ @baddie-barnes​ @xxloki81xx​ @fortyninegal​ @peacelovehobbitness​ @xo-spidey​ @noeaerialist​ @the-cry-of-youth​ @liebs82​  @jbarness​ @morganclaire4​ @runaway-escape​ @melimelbean​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @rebekahdawkins​ @thinkaboutmara​ @im-squished​ @angstysebfan​ @pncesscarryyy​ @strangersstranger​  @stuckyslutt​ @courtneychicken​ @tonystankschild​ @fallenoutofrose​  @jasminepaz​ @nnuree​ @ene-rene​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @andromedasstarship @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @doozywoozy​ @buchanansebba​ @purselover2​   @connie326​ @bestofbucky​ @white-wolf1940​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @thefifthmaraud3r​ @stuckysavedmylive​ @cherryblossomskye​ @sarcasmoverlordxo​ @avantgardium-leviosa​
688 notes · View notes
jeonjeonggukenergy · 4 years
Text
May 31
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summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed
genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts
wordcount ~ 5k
warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut
a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')
~ read on ao3 ~
You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.
"You...sold...your bed?"
"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.
"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"
"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.
Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."
Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"
"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."
"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"
You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."
Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—
"The couch was his too. I gave it back."
"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”
"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."
"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."
At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.
Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.
Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.
"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.
"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.
Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."
"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.
"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"
"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."
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You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.
~
Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.
"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.
Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."
"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."
To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.
"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."
"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."
"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.
Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.
"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.
"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.
Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.
Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.
~
Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.
~
"Jungkook?"
You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.
"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.
"What?"
"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"
"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.
And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.
Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."
Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"
"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.
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Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."
As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."
"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.
"Can I kiss you?"
Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"
"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."
Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.
"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.
"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"
"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.
"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.
"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.
He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.
"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.
He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.
"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.
"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."
"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."
Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.
"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.
"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.
"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."
You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."
"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"
"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."
"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."
"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.
"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.
"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.
Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.
"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.
"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.
"Fuck. Yes."
Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.
"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.
"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.
"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.
Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.
"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."
"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.
"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.
"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.
"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”
"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.
"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.
You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.
"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."
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diavolosthots · 3 years
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Request are opeeeeeen yay
Oh, well, could you please do a comforting scenario with Belphie and a depressed MC that's usually very cheerful but not right now (y'know, because of✨ Seasonal depression✨) with a lot of fluff and love?
Thank you in advance, and thank you also for all the things you write! It is amazing!!!
Requests are not open, this is from last time. Also i love how you go to emo boy for seasonal depression haha
Warning: mentions of seasonal depression
As the Seasons Change (BELPHEGOR X GN!READER)
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As if life wasn’t already complicated enough as it is, it also just had to throw yearly change at you. The warm, fun, light, bright, and outdoors-y stuff was suddenly replaced by cold, long nights and tons of darkness. Now, for some people, this was great. Who doesn’t prefer shorter days and more sleep? But to people like you, this just put you into a spiral of moodiness. Everything that you looked forward to in Spring and Summer suddenly got taken away and it wasn’t… it just made you feel bad, you know? Things are dying, animals go into hibernation, and people are dressing more darkly. It’s almost as if the world decided to be emo for 6 months out of the year and as much as that is okay, it really isn't. You liked the sunshine and warm days with the softest of breezes. The beautiful flowers and trees and animals that come out to play. Of course, people also just seemed happier. It’s beautiful, to you. Besides, the Devildom already gave you a shock with its constant darkness but you somewhat got used to it, up until Diavolo decided that he needed to “keep up with the human realm” and decided to bring winter down here. So now instead of dark and hot as hell, it was dark and cold as hell. Seriously, it may not be affecting the demons too much but how did he think his two human and two angel exchange students would react?
Still, you can’t blame it all on Diavolo. The guy was trying to do something nice by bringing a little bit of human into the Devildom, probably forgetting that not all humans react the same way to sudden change and or dark and cold dynamics in general. Bottom line is, you were less than pleased. Your moods spun out of control ranging from sadness to anger to not feeling worthy. It was a confusing time and right now, the most you could feel was ‘okay’. “Lucifer, why don’t demons get weirded out by the sudden change in temperature?” You hoped that the eldest could give you some type of explanation or maybe even a little bit of sympathy so you didn’t think you were the only one, but he only shrugged. “Demons adapt easily. We have to, otherwise we’d be tormented by our own minds.” It wasn’t exactly the answer you were looking for and Lucifer could tell, but it didn’t take away from the fact that that was the only answer you would be getting out of him. 
You hated this, genuinely. You even tried talking to Diavolo about it but it seemed to fly right over the guy’s head. “Haha isn’t this fun? I forgot what the cold feels like!” No, Diavolo, it’s not fun. Did you know that some people prefer the cold and get depressed over summer too??? No??? Well, then don’t assume! Of course, you didn’t say that to the Demon Lord because although he himself never scared you, you were terrified of what Barbatos may do had you disrespected the future King like that. You felt alone because even Solomon preferred the dark and although the angels are being of light, they didn’t seem to be affected much by this either. Was it just a human thing? Maybe just a you thing? The more you thought about it, the lonelier you felt and the brothers began to notice your change in behavior. How couldn’t they? They felt bad for you. Beel tried to cheer you up with food, which usually made you laugh, but now you’re just turning away from him. 
Belphegor is the only one who somewhat seemed indifferent, although his looks at you lasted a little longer than usual. Usually you’d annoy him with your constant happiness and ability to jump around everywhere, so now that it’s gone, it’s weird that he actually kind of misses it. “Come cuddle with me.” “Belphie I do---!” But he didn’t even care. He just grabbed you and then dragged you up into the attic with him. That’s probably the most exercise he’s done in a while: dragging someone up the stairs, but it was worth it. Kinda. Maybe. “I didn’t ask. I told you.” You rolled your eyes at him because when does he ever ask? He just does his thing and seems endlessly happy with that, although something told you that was the biggest lie. 
“I don’t want to cuddle.” Now he’s rolling his eyes, falling down onto the bed in the attic and holding out his arms to you. “Maybe you don’t want it, but you definitely need it. Stop fighting with me.” you groaned but gave in, falling down beside him, trying to keep at least some space between the two of you, but Belphie didn’t care and immediately rolled closer, putting his head on your chest. “Stroke my hair and tell me what’s wrong.” What? See this is why you and Belphie rarely ever hang out. He’s so demanding, so needy, and you swore he rivaled Leviathan at times. Levi would beg you to stay until you would, though, and Belphie would just have a death grip on you. Right now you didn’t know which was worse. “Belphie I don’t… I don’t want to.” “Fine then just hold me, but talk to me.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around him because that seemed like a fair compromise and he was already half on top of you so what’s the point of arguing? 
“I just… my emotions are all over the place. I’m sad and then I’m angry. I get annoyed and then I get lonely… it’s because Diavolo changed the damn weather…” You felt stupid for saying that out loud and you could almost guarantee that Belphie thought the same thing, but he didn’t say anything, instead waiting for you to go on. “I just got used to the dark and the hot of the Devildom and now it’s… it’s dark and cold and it feels lonely and empty and I can’t cope with that. He did it to be ‘hip’ or whatever with the human world but he fails to realize that just because it happens naturally up there, doesn’t mean people like that.” “So you got seasonal depression.” You nodded, slowly beginning to let your fingers run over his back while he wrapped himself around you. Well, he more so climbed fully on top of you and snuggled his face into your neck. It tickled a bit so you managed to let out a little giggle, but it disappeared just as quickly. 
“Yeah… I was… you know I could’ve gotten used to just having dark and hot all year around but then he goes and does this and I can’t feel happy right now… everything is just so sad and gloomy. Spring just started in the human world and yet Diavolo decides to start late and extend winter…” Belphie snorted, finding amusement in your words. He has his own opinions about his Demon Lord, including the fact that that guy is a huge himbo, but he could never voice that out loud. Not when he knows Lucifer lives under the same roof as him. “He sucks. But you know… this does give you an excuse to just lay with me all day.” And yes, he truly believes that’s a good thing. Why wouldn’t it be? No expectations, just sleep and cuddles. He pulls his head out of your neck and leans up a bit, kissing your forehead before looking at you. “Just stay with me. I can make you sleep until Lord Diavolo decides winter is done. He’s going to get tired of it sooner or later.” 
You laughed softly at his proposal, shaking your head a bit. “I don’t know if you’re aware but humans need to eat and drink and you’d have me play sleeping beauty, meaning I’d die due to the lack of food and water in my body.” Belphie only shrugged, laying his head back down and snuggling closer. He was behaving like a baby right now, but a cute baby, who wouldn’t let you go. “I don’t see the issue, but suit yourself.” Of course the Avatar of Sloth wouldn’t see the issue. You rolled your eyes again and then poked his sides before holding him tightly. “You’re warm….” “I know.” Another eye roll but you also couldn’t help but smile. He’s such an idiot but at least you’re not alone right now. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer… for just a little bit.” 
Belphie smiled into your neck, kissing it gently before closing his eyes, “I thought so.”
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