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#but he'd still have six legs
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so i was thinking about how Howdy has eight legs bc he's a caterpillar - those have lots of legs. but butterflies? they only have six
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imagine he comes out of his chrysalis and he's down two limbs. mf would have to relearn how to Walk
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
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🎀💞
I just know that Simon Riley wants his face sat on🤭
nsfw below the cut 🪷 mdni
You'd always been a little shy when it came to sex, understandably so considering that your boyfriend was a real life Adonis, some kind of cruelly beautiful deity come to taunt you for your prudishness. Obviously, you and Simon had done it, you'd fucked countless times when he came back from deployments or frustrated from debriefings gone bad, but it was always, for lack of a better word, tame. You'd always assumed, given his past, that he wouldn't be down to have sex, period. The beginning of your relationship was a minefield of navigating boundaries and understanding the complexity of the beautiful man you got to share your bed with. What you foolishly failed to recognise, however, is that whist you subconsciously saw Simon as wounded, he saw your fragility as clear as day, like a ripple under the surface of clear water.
He'd aways been so impossibly gentle with you, even when you'd wanted things differently, too afraid to ask him and send Simon spiralling back into that dark place he'd only recently been pulled from.
"Want you to fuck my face." Simon's deadpan voice snaps you from your reverie, brings you back to where you lay sprawled and waiting in the centre of your shared bed.
"I'm sorry?" You barely manage to splutter, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at where he sits patiently between your knees, not even needing to look down to your panties to know that your cunt is already dripping.
"Fuck, love." The sound of his exasperated sigh makes you feel like you've done something wrong, but the almost pained crinkle of his eyes confuses you. "You need me to spell it out? I'd like you to sit on my face and let me eat you out." Simon's words make you choke, jaw hanging agape as you process the fact that not only is he willing to take such a step in your sexual relationship, but also that he's so seemingly comfortable with the idea of you essentially fucking his face. Sure, he's eaten you out before, but never in such a compromising way. "Are you -" A soft kiss being placed to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is enough to silence you as you look down at Simon practically grovelling between your legs.
"If you don't want to, you can say no, baby." "It's not that I don't want to. I just don't want to - fuck." You huff, slumping back against the mattress with a sigh as you struggle to find the words you need to express the way you feel. "You don't want to fuck?" He smirks wickedly at you, one hand still cradling your outer thigh as he presses his cheek to the warm skin, trying to lighten the mood. Ease you up a bit. "Simon." "Tell me what you're thinking. I'll make it make sense." God he's always so unbearably patient. It almost has you in tears.
"I just - I'm not so confident with stuff like that, you know? I mean it took us six months of having sex for me to even feel comfortable enough to ride you. Now you want me to sit on your face?"
Simon's eyes soften at your reasoning, and he practically drags himself up the bed until he's face to face with you, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down at your face, so beautifully flushed and bashful.
"If you don't want to do it, that's fine, but I need you to know, that I look at you and get hard okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've seen. Ever. If I died by being suffocated between your legs? Fuckin' kill me already, yeah?"
His words have you giggling softly as you play with his hair, distracting yourself from the burning arousal in the pit of your tummy.
"Okay." You nod, slowly, meeting his eye to make sure that he sees you're serious. "You don't have to say yes if you're not sure." "I'm sure, but can we go slow?" "Of course, baby. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with."
It doesn't take long for you to be sat nervously on Simon's hips, clothes piled on the floor, discarded in order for you to sit naked atop him, bottom lip pulled nervously between your teeth. "Do I just -" You point awkwardly between the general vicinity of your cunt to Simon's face, heart fluttering when you catch the way he gazes up at you like some sort of statue, some masterpiece. "Mhm." He nods slowly, pupils blown impossibly wide, the chocolate of his gaze turning almost entirely black. You feel his massive palms take your hips, guiding you up to your knees before settling your slick cunt just over his face.
"Sit." He grunts when he doesn't immediately feel the press of you against his mouth, his nose barely touching your puffy clit. "What if I hurt you?" "I'll let you know. Now, sit." Before you know it, his fingers are digging into your hips, leaving you gasping at the suddenly overwhelming sensation of his entire lower face stuffed against your pussy.
"Holy sh-" You whine, already beginning to roll your hips in search of stimulation, all whilst Simon gives a contented hum which rumbles through you and has you clenching around nothing. His hands guide your hips in their rhythm as his tongue licks a flat stripe between your wet folds, leaving you stuttering and your eyes rolling back, all whilst you grip onto his hair like of you let go he'll disappear entirely.
He sets a languorous pace with his tongue, eating at you like you're his final meal, hands digging firmly at the meat of your ass whilst he uses the slight bump at the bridge of his nose to press up against your clit, making you dizzy. Whilst he uses both hands to guide you, you use the hand not tangled into his hair to roll a hardened nipple between your thumb and forefinger, the sensation going straight to your pussy and making you gasp. Simon, perceptive as ever, notices your want and pushes his tongue inside you to push just that little bit further - and he can tell that you're close by the way your thighs clench around his ears and the fact that you're wonderfully more vocal than usual.
Similarly, sensing your oncoming orgasm, you desperately attempt to pull yourself off of him, all of a sudden shy about cumming on his face like you haven't done it countless times before. Your wriggling is met with a small slap to your ass which has you seeing stars as the small sting snaps the elastic band stretching taut in your lower belly, and Simon laps up every bit that you'll give him.
"Didn't think that men like me got to go to heaven." Simon sighs when you both lay sprawled and happy in bed together.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
I did not intend to write 1.1k of smut when I opened my laptop this evening but boundaries and communication are just so !! sexy !!
N e ways I'll just leave this here for y'all💕
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roosterforme · 1 month
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Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.
Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation
Length: 8600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @mak-32
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"I need to move."
Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout. 
"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"
For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."
"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.
You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"
"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"
"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"
Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."
You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."
"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."
Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"
"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."
You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."
Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.
"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."
You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."
Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.
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You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.
He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.
"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.
You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time. 
"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."
But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.
Fuck.
It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"
His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."
His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"
He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."
--------------------------
You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.
"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?
But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.
He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was. 
You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."
He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge." 
When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"
"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.
You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"
"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"
You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."
He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."
With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."
"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked. 
"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.
"My treat."
"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."
"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.
"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."
He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."
Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."
Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."
You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth. 
He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.
"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."
Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."
"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"
He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.
You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"
Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?" 
"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"
"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."
You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"
Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"
You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."
"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."
Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."
He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"
"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.
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You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"
"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.
You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."
"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza. 
"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"
His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking." 
He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"
Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."
You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"
"What?" 
You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."
He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar." 
"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."
He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"
You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"
Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"
"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."
Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"
"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."
A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."
"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep. 
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Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.
He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.
You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way. 
When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."
"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."
"M'kay." 
Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side. 
Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"
He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."
You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.
"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him. 
The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him. 
After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs. 
"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."
He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."
Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."
With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.
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Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home. 
The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you. 
So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there. 
You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.
"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.
"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"
"Right now?" he asked immediately.
You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."
"I'll be there soon."
He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.
"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"
"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."
"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."
You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."
Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."
That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.
Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"
"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"
"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"
You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."
You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."
He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."
Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers. 
"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."
"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.
"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room. 
"I don't really want to do that."
You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"
He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.
"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.
He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."
------------------------
You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar. 
"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.
"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."
Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."
Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."
Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him. 
"I think you should quit," he told you blandly. 
"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."
"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."
You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"
He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.
"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"
You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too. 
You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.
Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.
If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar. 
"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started. 
"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."
Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."
That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.
The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them. 
Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped. 
Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process. 
"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"
He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."
"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit. 
"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."
You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again. 
"Not those ones."
You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"
His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him. 
Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."
"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."
He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet. 
"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."
"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding." 
He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips. 
Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case. 
But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.
His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him. 
Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life. 
Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered. 
"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.
He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot. 
"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers. 
"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone. 
Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms. 
"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.
"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."
Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.
Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.
You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."
"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."
You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"
"Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."
"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache. 
"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.
You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."
"Why?" he demanded again. 
Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."
"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body. 
You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."
Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."
His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."
"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."
"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response. 
"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.
He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."
"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.
"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."
"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."
----------------------------
You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.
"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk. 
"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.
"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."
"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."
"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.
You moaned. "I owe him so much."
Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."
"What conclusion would that be?"
"That you're in love with me."
You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."
Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."
That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love. 
"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."
"Just for that, you get a remix too."
---------------------------
I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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boycasanova · 4 months
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Imagine giving Malleus an existential crisis when yuu explains how fragile humans are compared to fae. He's had an inkling of it before from Lilia's stories of splitting the heads of human soldiers they simply meant to scare, but not the degree that Yuu explains it.
"If we," Yuu paused, trying to think of something that may sound outlandish to the fae, yet still a common scenario. "If we drink too little water, we die a really gruesome death."
Well that makes sense to him, any creation can experience dehydration. But when Yuu explains how little time they have to acquire water before they experience thirst hallucinations and other symptoms, he's frightened. Three days is nothing to him, he's once slept for six without a second thought after a particularly good meal.
He would wrap you up in bubble wrap and order Sebek and Silver to keep an eye on you as pass through the halls. If you slip near the stairs, he reasons, you can't use magic to gain steady footing. You'll likely just hit your head and incur some incurable, debilitating brain damage. "Or break both of your legs," Silver injects. So please don't fight it, he'd hate to see you hurt. LOL
2K notes · View notes
escapenightmare · 1 year
Text
soft n pouty bf nagi <3
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"you forgot something," nagi mumbles from behind you.
"what?" you ask him as he wraps his arms around your waist from the back, resting his chin on your shoulder. he had stopped you at the door a second before you were about to leave, telling you that you had forgotten something. "what is it?"
he holds out a book in front of your face, "book."
"oh shit," you quickly stuff it in your bag, escaping from his lingering touch. "thanks sei."
"you forgot something else too."
his drowsy voice makes you stop again and let go of the doorknob, groaning. "what now?"
"kiss."
"bro." you deadpan, turning around to face him and his little unconscious pout. you quickly press your lips to his, "okay?"
"that wasn't meaningful," he narrows his eyes at you, looking sleepy even though he'd been awake for an hour already. his hair was all messed up, more than it usually was, sticking out in all ends and looking all soft and fluffy, just like him.
"sei," you groan again and kiss him once more, making it last longer than the previous one. "happy?"
"no," he lightly huffs, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours with a more defined pout.
you narrow your eyes at him the way he did at you earlier. "why?"
"’don't want you to leave," he said softly, pulling you to him with your hand and wrapping his arms around you once again.
"but i have to go, sei," you tell him, lifting your hand to stroke his hair.
"why?" you could literally picture him stomping his feet like a child. "return the book tomorrow?" he suggests.
"the due date's today," your hand is still stroking his hair and he leans into your touch, face relaxing and eyes closing.
when he speaks again it's almost in a whisper, "just for a little while?"
you think about it. if you stayed for even just five more minutes, you'd be smothered with affection and attention, pulled onto the couch for cuddles, probably get so caught up in the moment that you'd forget you had to leave in the first place.
or, you could leave right now and come home to a poutier and more affection-seeking, drunk on not having your love seishiro.
"...?" even his silence looks like he's asking you a question.
"what?" you reluctantly ask.
"don't go," he says, voice drowsy and as soft as could be. "just for a little. ’swear." a pause before he adds, "please."
your heart almost shatters at how broken he sounded, and you let him know your answer by wrapping your arms around him in a hug. "okay. but only for a little."
he eagerly nods, tugging you to the couch and sitting down before pulling you on top of him, hugging you close to his chest. you could hear his steady heartbeat as he looked down at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.
"so," you start, maintaining eye contact. "what's wrong?"
his long legs tangle with yours and he seems to hesitate before he answers, voice as gentle as it was before. "just missed you."
"hm?" you brush a few locks of his hair away from his forehead and look down at him. "we were together the whole day yesterday."
"i know," he replies, hand on your back and thumb tracing random shapes that you could feel through your shirt.
a circle.. a six... an eight.. a square...
nagi lets out a soft and content exhale. "i like it when it's like this." his eyes sparkle a little and his lips curl up in a small smile. "when it's just the two of us."
you snuggle closer to him, letting him lean his forehead on your shoulder as he hugged you tighter. "me too, sei."
unsurprisingly, you fall asleep, wrapped up in nagi's arms and warm and comfortable hoodie.
only for a little while my ass, you thought when you woke up again.
he's setting a mug containing your favorite drink down on the coffee table in front of you.
your eyes immediately wander to the window and you sigh, it was dark outside.
the library was closed now.
"here," your boyfriend hands you a book, sitting down next to you and cuddling up to you.
your eyebrows furrow, it was a book in your reading list.
"i went and returned the book for you," nagi says. "and got that."
you brighten up with a grin, "thanks, sei." your hand moves up to pat his head a few times and he pouted when you put your hand down.
there's no words exchanged as he curls up to you, and you wonder how someone could be as cute as he was in this moment; hair messed up more than ever, eyes sleepy and half closed again, drowning in an oversized hoodie and lips forming a tiny 'o' shape because of.... well, you had no idea.
you bring your free hand up to his cheek and smile. his hand comes up to hold yours as he nuzzles into your palm, eyes affectionate and loving, pout no longer visible on his face.
"i love you," he mumbles, leaning down and slowly kissing the corner of your lips. "a lot."
you gently smile, "i love you too."
nagi pokes the book in your hand, "read to me?"
"always."
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keeksandgigz · 5 months
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okay okay, but imagine an older!modern!eddie getting ticked off every time you have your phone on 'do not disturb.'
this was supposed to be a blurb but pls queens turn off your dnd this is loosely based on a true story
eddie munson x fem! reader
word count: 3k
cw: porn with a little plot, spanking with a spoon, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv (pls don't do that), use of nicknames (sweetness, sugar, baby etc), established d/s dynamic (even if there isn't much of it here), no physical description of reader, minors dni, smut below the cut!
Like, it starts off kinda funny like "Honey, c'mon I need you to return my calls if I know you're free. I needa know my girl is safe" he says, voice real sweet. You just apologize and turn it off.
Until it becomes a recurrent thing. He'll call you to ask if you still need to get picked up after class while you're out running errands. You don't see his call until after class and you hurriedly call him to come pick you up.
Or he's at the grocery store to pick up dinner for later and he's texting you to ask what he needs to get for you and you just don't answer him. You don't see his texts.
He tries to call. Voicemail.
He later gets home with whatever he was craving and just starts cooking.
"But I thought we said we were gonna do pasta, Ed? Why're you making chicken?" you ask, literally without a clue as to why dinner plans have changed.
"Well, sweetness, if you don't answer my texts or return my calls how the hell am I supposed to know what kinda pasta you wanted, huh?" he just shrugs, voice a bit hardened. You can tell it's starting to tick him off.
"Oh, shit. Sorry Ed, I don't even know where my phone is, really" you scratch your head, looking around but not really in search for your phone.
"Well, if you didn't have your DnD on you'd know where your phone is once I call or text you. It's starting to get a little frustrating, baby, can you please be a little more mindful and turn off your 'do not disturb' when you don't need it please?" you just nod sheepishly, like you've been scolded for not saying 'thank you' to a gift you didn't like.
And it does end up happening numerous times. Luckily, nothing too insane.
Sometimes he'd ask you if you wanted to call and you just sit there waiting for him to call. After ten minutes, you assume he's gone to sleep (he's a bit old after all), so you turn off your phone and tuck in for the night.
"Why didn't you pick up last night baby? I called you like six times" he asks the morning after.
"Wait, you called? I was waiting for you to call and then you didn't so I just went to bed" you explain, then clocking the issue there. Shit.
"You had your DnD on, didn't you, sweetness?" and he gets close to you. Close enough for you to hold your breath, too entranced by his big presence, filling up every bit of your vision. You feel suffocated by him.
You look down, too much to be looking at him right now, with the aura of calm and cool control that he exudes. It'd be easier for him to swallow you whole than for you to be making eye contact with him right now.
He just takes care of that promptly for you. He gingerly places two fingers under your chin, making you look at him in the eyes.
"You look at me when I talk to you. You know better, don't you baby?" and he puts on this fake pout that makes you blush all over. You imagine the butterflies at the bottom of your stomach tinging a pretty shade of pink with every domineering word that comes out of that man's mouth.
You just nod, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth, releasing you from the delicious torture of him invading your senses as he takes a step back, letting your chin go before he just goes back to what he was doing.
"Oughta punish you one of these days if you don't turn that damn DnD off" he mutters and then he's back on his computer.
The gruff words make your shaky legs stutter as you decide you cannot be standing anymore and you plop yourself on the couch.
His last straw, however, is when you're out at a club with your friends. You've had one too many drinks and you text Eddie to come pick you up. He has no idea where you are.
Yeah, baby I can pick you up. Where at? 12:34 am
Can't pick you up if you don't tell me where you are, sweetness. 12:42 am
You there? 12:50 am
Turn off your DnD PLEASE 1:00 am
I'm omw 1:03 am
And he pulls up in front of the bar you were helplessly staring out the door of. You're not drunk, just not having fun.
You run into the car, shivering from the biting November breeze.
"Had to call one of your friends to tell me where the fuck you were. Are you drunk?" he asks. Voice stern, laden with what you could only define as barbed wire. Cutting, angry, almost.
"'m not drunk." you mutter "I had, like, a shot, then I decided I wasn't having fun anymore. Didn't wanna go out in the first place" finding the creases and ridges of your hands very interesting all of a sudden.
"Trust me when I tell you you won't be having fun at home either. Fucking sick of that 'do not disturb' thing on. You had me scared to death." he seethes, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. You notice he's wearing his pyjamas.
Fuck. You made him get out of bed. You shrink in your seat.
"Y'don't wanna be disturbed? I'll fuckin' teach you about being disturbed" and that's the last thing he says before he just speeds home.
There's thick tension between the two of you when he opens the door to his apartment. You sit on his counter, looking at the floor and getting ready for another scolding.
He's leaning on the wall opposite to you, arms crossed.
He breaks the silence "Floor's lookin' clean? You gonna look at me now?" you shiver, then look up to meet his darkened eyes.
He scoffs and takes a few paces towards you, until he's placed between your parted legs.
"What do I gotta do with you, huh? Do I gotta start checkin' your phone to make sure that damn thing is turned off? As far as I'm concerned after your classes you shouldn't have it on at all" he remarks, his hands caressing over the nylon of your tights, toying with the fabric of your dress.
You interject "I just forget, Ed. I'm so busy these days I forget to turn it off" you jut out your bottom lip, trying to coax a bit of sweet sympathy out of him. Something that'll make the punishment a bit lighter.
But he remains unmoved, his lips in a straight line as he moves his hands up, up, up to firmly hold your waist. "So forgetful, aren't you, baby? Maybe you need a reminder, carve some space in that big, busy brain of yours to remember to turn your DnD off, hm?" he chides, playing with the insides of your arm, skin sensitive and waiting as his thick finger moves up and down and you can't help but nod.
Your breath begins to pick up ever so slightly. But he notices, of course he notices. The way your mouth parts and your pupils dilate. The way your chest begins to get closer to him, rising and falling in anticipation.
"So pretty" he teases, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his palm, letting out a sweet humming sound that makes Eddie's stomach flip despite his hardened facade "Y'wanna play?"
His voice goes to a deep, dark timbre, the question making you shiver. You speak for the first time in what seems like forever.
"Yes, sir" voice thin and quiet as you keep looking at him, not wanting to worsen your precarious position as he undoes the zipper of the short dress you're wearing, helping him out by taking your arms out of the thin sleeves.
"Good girl," he remarks, tapping the sides of your thighs to make you lift your hips, removing the dress off of you completely.
He licks his lips when he finds you're wearing tights. He loves spanking you with the nylon barrier between his hand and the soft skin of your ass. A weird quirk of his.
You feel the hardened pressure of his bulge against the inside of your thigh as his body turns to litter a trail of kisses over your jawline and you keen into his touch, arch towards his chest demanding more, more, more. Even if you're in no position to demand anything.
A whine escapes you as you keep arching your hips towards him. Eddie's quick to stop you with a strong hand pinning you down against the marble of the counter. He tuts.
"Don't be greedy. Hop off and bend over" he commands, and who are you to say no to him as you comply with a meek "Yes, sir," resting your elbows on the cold counter.
His nose skims the length of your spine, taking in the way you smell. Sweet and musky, after a night of dancing among sweaty bodies. The thought intrudes Eddie's head. Did a body press itself against you? Is the scent of a random man now on the skin of your back, the fabric of your dress?
He shakes the thought away as he reaches the waistband of your black nylon tights.
"Pass me that wooden spoon, will you, sugar?" he says sweetly, snaking a hand in your hair. You shiver as you reach for the wooden utensil in the metal bucket next to the stove. You pass it to him, skin pricking up from the anticipation of not knowing what he might do with it.
"Thank you, baby" he kisses your shoulders, as the spoon comes into contact with your ass. Caressing up and down.
"Now, I hate to do this, you know me, but I gotta teach you a lesson, sweetness. Tell me you want this" he says, the utensil snaking its way between your legs, rubbing back and forth. A wicked smile appearing on Eddie's lips when you begin to helplessly whimper, your head lolling on its side against the marble counter.
"I- I want this" you say, loud enough to make him hear you.
And that's all he needs. A green light.
The wooden spoon lands on the meat of your ass. You hiss. The feeling is new, he hadn't spanked you with anything aside of his hand before, but the feeling of the wooden handle cracking on your skin makes your head reel.
"You gonna put your phone on DnD again?" he asks, a question he knows the answer to as he cracks down the spoon again.
"Ah- ow- No, sir. Thank you, sir" you say, sweet and compliant, hoping that it will relieve you of your penance earlier than he'd planned to.
His hand sneaks itself on the seam of your tights, knowing you never wear panties with them, feeling the heat radiating off of your core, a dampness that had been sitting there since you'd climbed in the car.
He chuckles to himself, a dark laugh, a notice that he will not go easy on you tonight.
"You're likin' this?" you can almost hear the wicked smile in his words. "You little slut, you're getting wet from this? Me smacking you with a spoon?" he taunts and your legs quiver as he administers two more cracks to your ass.
You have cotton in your ears. Your skin feels everything and nothing at the same time as you begin slumping against the counter.
"So horny you can't even stand, huh, sweetness?" Eddie smacks you again and then reaches his arm around your waist to pull you up "Little slut didn't want me to disturb her, hat true?" he asks, another smack, this time he expects an answer.
"Fuck- ow- no Eddie that's not-ah" another smack "t-true" you sob, tears beginning to well on the waterline of your eyes.
Your ass feels on fire while Eddie puts the spoon down next to your head. Your legs shaky in your heels as he kneels between your legs.
Two of his fingers hooked on the seam of your tights as he rips a hole in them, exposing you to him. You gasp, more at the suddenness of the motion than at the action itself.
Your tights never had a long enough lifespan when you wore them around Eddie.
"You got so wet, sweetness." He whispers, entranced by the way the skin glistens in the dull kitchen light.
His hands hook around your waist to keep you still as his face narrows into your pussy, and he begins to lick.
Broad stripes of his tongue, slurping and lapping up whatever he missed. Eating like a man starved.
Your back arching to get more, more, greedy in the best way possible as you mewled and cried for him to keep going. As you mewled and cried nonsense, feeling your brain turn fuzzy and your eyes becoming accustomed to going to the back of your head every time his tongue lingered long enough on your clit.
When he begins to suck harshly on it you have no choice but to grab the back of his head and push it further, if there ever was a further, as he is wedged deep between your legs, eating you out like his life depended on it.
He doesn't like it, though, the way you grab and push at his head like you're the one calling the shots.
He unhooks his arms from your waist momentarily to reach for your wrists to pin them behind your back, that's when he stands from his place in between your legs.
"Y'think you're a big girl, huh? Callin' the shots?" he lands a smack on your ass, turning you around to finally face him. Hands still pinned behind you as he pushes you towards him.
"I didn't- I don't-" you try and justify yourself, but he just delivers a smack to your face. Light enough to give you a slight sting.
His chin glistens with your slick, and you can smell it on him.
"Look what you did" he says, taunting you. His free hand comes to squeeze your cheeks, making you look at him.
"Clean me up, since you wanna be so fuckin' messy" and he squeezes harder, your tongue jutting out to lick at the clear wetness on his face, slight stubble scratching your tongue and chin. You lick around his mouth, under his nose, until he pushes you away from him.
"Greedy, greedy" he chants, as he places you on top of the counter, cold marble a relief against your aching ass.
You could clearly see the outline of his cock against his sweats, you bite your lip as he inches closer to you. “Look how hard you made me, baby," he mutters, low and dark "it’s impossible to be in your presence when you look like you want to get fucked all the time." he continues "Goin' out in that tight little dress like you don't want everyone to see your pretty tits" he says, grabbing a handful through the bralette you're wearing.
He moves the cups to the side as he toys with your tits, a hand reaching into your mouth to wet his fingers. You gag and sputter around his digits.
"Theeere you go, sweetness. Y'like having your mouth full?" he asks, Hardened stare urging you to answer. You nod and let out a weak hum in approval as his fingers keep pushing in and out of your mouth.
He removes his fingers from your mouth as he begins circling the sensitive buds of your nipples. You let out a desperate moan.
"So sensitive, aren't you? You wanna cum like that while I fuck you?" he asks, and you can't find the words fast enough to nod your head yes.
"Ask me nicely. You know better" he says sternly as he uses one hand to lower the waistband of his sweats, letting his cock spring free.
"F-fuck, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me, sir" is all you can muster, before he guides his cock to your entrance, sinking in all the way to the hilt. A gasp escapes you. It never gets old.
"That's a good girl. Wasn't so hard, was it?" he teases, both his hands returning to deliver their ministrations on your tits, thumb unforgivingly grazing your nipples. The motion makes you scream as Eddie sets a quick pace.
"That's right, sweetness, keep singin' for me. Lemme hear that pretty voice" he says, his words making you clench around him.
His hands come off your tits to place your legs on your shoulders, making you curl in on yourself as he leaned his body to make your faces touch.
"Kiss me, baby" and you kiss him with such fervor and need. He hadn't kissed you the whole night. You don't know how much you need him to kiss you until you do and it's like fireworks are going off behind your hooded lids.
His tongue slips past your lips as he keeps thrusting, unforgivingly, hitting your g- spot every. single. time. You whine into his mouth, he chuckles at how needy you sound.
"My baby just needed a good fuck to remember to not put her DnD on, didn't you?" he taunts, an especially harsh thrust follows as you feel his breathing become more ragged and his pace begin to stutter.
"Feels good, huh? Shit, baby you're so tight" he begins and you can't help but moan.
"Feels good Eddie- huh- so... so deep" you hiccup, and you feel close. "Hmm so ah big" you groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head when a particularly well- angled thrust deliciously hits your spongy walls.
"You like that, sweetheart? God- fuck- so gorgeous, baby. Look at you" he rambles. He's getting close.
"Oh fuck, Ed, 'mclosesoclose" you cry out and you're seriously teetering on the edge of orgasm. A few more thrusts and you'd be gone.
"Me too, sweetness, c'mon cum for me" he thrusts a couple more times and the coil snaps. You're clenching and whining and screaming his name while he follows after you, finishing inside you.
He stays there even after he's done, laying his head on your sweaty chest while you both try to stabilize your breathing.
"Feel free to disturb me whenever you want" you say, and he chuckles, giving a soft kiss to your shoulder.
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pseudowho · 6 days
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Cunt-Drunk
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18+, MDNI, just a filthy little drabble...
For @delirious-donna , my Higuruma brainrot muse
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Hiromi didn't often go out with his colleagues. But one week, duty called, and he was obliged to attend karaoke and drinks with his firm's new clients. He was going to be out for hours. It was a Saturday night, and you were off too, and he was absolutely incensed because--
"They said no spouses allowed! Can you believe it?" Hiromi ranted, clattering around the kitchen in a strop, shoving scattered files into his briefcase, "It's almost like they think I'd spend the whole evening talking to you, and squeezing your thighs under the table, and--"
"--well let's be honest, Hiromi, you would--"
"--and who could blame me, really--"
"---Hiromi it's just one night, I won't be doing anything interesting anyway, just go, and have fun, and send me videos of you doing karaoke--"
Hiromi scoffed, clipping his briefcase shut, "I do not do Karaoke."
He stood staring down at you, straight, and tall, and serious for a moment. You bit your lip, barely hiding a smirk. Hiromi slumped dramatically, his face crumpling into a look of abject despair. He cupped his hands around his mouth and nose, head tipped back.
"...do I have to?" He whined. You did not answer. You simply sidled up to him, straightened his tie, and pulled him down by it, pressing a kiss of promise to his lips, so prophetic that he moaned into you.
You whispered against Hiromi's lips; "Off you go, my brave soldier. Have a drink or six for me."
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You worked your way through the usual bottle of Shiraz that you and Hiromi shared on a Saturday night, but, without him there, being drunk just felt sad. You took yourself to bed, in just one of his shirts fished out of the laundry, and fell asleep in the thunk way that only drunk women do.
You woke in the small hours of the morning with a jolt, feeling yourself dragged down the bed by two strong arms looped around your thighs. You squeaked, reaching down and tangling your fingers in a familiar shock of grey-streaked black hair.
"I-- Hiromi--" you started, mumbling and half-asleep. You heard a giggle from between your legs.
"Shhhh," Hiromi slurred, and giggled again. You heard a p-tuu, and felt a glob of warmth, slippery-wet, dripping down your labia. With little warning, Hiromi lathered his tongue between your folds, and you cried out, your body still sizzling with the wine.
"...missed you," Hiromi whined, nuzzling between your puffy folds, "...wanted...to see you...our S'day night...ruined...s'boring without you..."
"--Hiromi--" you panted, dazed and disoriented, "--just come to bed--"
"Shhhhhh," he whispered again, loudly, "m'fine...right here...pull m'hair...jus' hold onto somethin'..."
Hiromi ate your pussy without remorse, without restraint, as drunk as could be, and fucking the bed in his sloppy, rumpled suit. Hiromi moaned, pornographic and dirty, every time he fucked his twitching, aching length against the sheets.
Still suckling your clit between his lips, Hiromi reached down to hook his cock up to press against his belly, his cockhead frictioned deliciously between his black happy trail and waistband.
You had never been eaten out in a way that was so primal, with Hiromi fucking his tongue into your heat, massaging the area around your clit with his liquor-soaked lips, and rolling his tongue over the hard little pearl of your clit until you almost blacked out, your nerves stripped bare by the shock and wine.
Hiromi was rough, looping his arms over your thighs and dragging you back to his mouth every time you mewled and tried to crawl away from him. He'd respond with a sharp nip to the inside of your thigh, and an admonishing look, before rubbing his face savagely from side to side over your sopping cunt and clit, growling into the wet mess he'd made of you.
As you squirmed and yanked the roots of his hair, clamping your thighs around his head, Hiromi mumbled into your pussy, focusing his tongue and lips on your clit before abruptly sliding three bunched, long fingers into your hole, fucking you hard and fast with them until he felt your silky sweet spot.
Hiromi fucked the bed in time, imagining in his drunken stupor, that the wet squelches and frantic cries from you, were from his cock slamming in and out of you instead.
"--c'mon baby...in m'mouf, cum in m'mouf...good girl, so good, s'good...gonna cum...m'gonna cum...fuuuuckkk, shit--"
Dragging you with biting, sucking, growling urgency through your orgasm, Hiromi came in tandem; his ruts into the mattress, and his pitched, desperate moans became slower, and softer, as his seed poured out under his shirt, soaking the white fabric, sticky and cloying against his twitching belly.
His fingers still inside you, his nose and mouth still between your folds, face-down on the bed as you came down from your absolutely feral high...you heard a snore.
Rising on shaking elbows, you looked down the bed. Cum-soaked, drunk, and sticky with your arousal, Hiromi snored soft, drunk snores into your pussy.
In the morning, you showed him the photo you took of him, this way, before watching the video Hiromi's colleague sent you of him singing old rock songs while the whole karaoke bar cheered him on.
569 notes · View notes
k00sblogger · 1 month
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BROTHERS BEST FRIEND
Synopsis: The one where you're attracted to the one person you can't have.
Warnings: Yoongis direct ASF, oc is crushing hard, praising, inexperienced reader, age gap (25&19), soft dom yoongi, pussy eating , fingering, little bit of fluff?
Pairing: bbf!yoongi x fem!reader
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Setting my phone down, I put the phone on speaker as i put my hair up into a ponytail. "Yeah i'll be there jun." I reply to my brother. Me and my siblings made it a point to hangout at least once every month to catch up on life. Just because we were getting older didn't mean we had to grow apart.
After conversating a little more with jun i agreed to meet him at his house in about a hour. I spend a little extra time on my skin care and picking out my pajamas for this sleepover. Sweats and a t-shirt wouldn't do today. I had a feeling seojun was gonna invite his bestfriend, and i'd be lying if i said i didn't have the tiniest crush on him.
Let's be real, yoongi was six years older than me. I doubt that he'd ever look my way, but that didn't mean I had to look like a complete bum around him, you never know what could happen.
I finish up what i'm doing and look at the time. "Fuck, i gotta go." I mutter to myself, grabbing my belongings and rushing out of the house.
__________________________________________________
I arrive just on time, grabbing my small bag out of the car and heading up to seojuns door. Before I knock, i quickly fix my dress and move my hair out of my face.. just in case.
I go to knock on the door but it's opened before i can, and my brother bombards me with a hug. "Y/n!" I smile at his excitement. It felt as if i hadn't seen my brother in months. "Hi jun" I say, taking it upon myself to step inside, taking off my shoes at the front door and placing them onto the mat.
Seojun closes the door behind me and leads me inside to the living room. "Oh shit- i forgot to mention, i invited yoongi to hang with us. Hope you don't mind." I almost let myself smile at that statement as i come face to face with yoongi. He gives me a smile and hugs me, like he does everytime he sees me, and i find myself wishing it would last a bit longer when he lets go, like i always do.
Seojuns loud voice makes me turn my attention back to him, reminding me what I was really here for. "Come on both of you, let's make snacks for the movie."
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We end up watching movies all night, the last movie was horror of course. I'd begged not to watch it but the boys insisted. Eventually they both fell asleep, leaving me to watch the movie by myself. I'd had enough of watching the scary scenes on my own and ventured off into the guest bedroom.
It's only when i go to take a shower that I realize i left my bags downstairs. "Shit." I say, annoyed at myself for forgetting it so easily. I open the door to my bedroom only to be met with yoongi's face staring back at me "Fuck!" i shout, he looks just as startled as I am, and i notice my bags in his hand.
"Sorry.. you scared me." i mutter, allowing him to step into my room to put my bags down. "I thought you both were still sleeping" I state, looking at him as he makes himself comfortable in what was supposed to be my room for the night, even taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Honestly, you woke me up when you walked up here." i give him a apologetic smile and he shakes his head to let me know it was fine.
There's a awkward silence for a moment and i shift my eyes back toward the ground, trying to find the right words to say. "Uhh.. did jun say you were supposed to sleep here tonight?" I say, looking around awkwardly. No way seojun wanted us to sleep in here together.
"No, I just came to talk to you about something. Sit down." He says, i hear a seriousness in his voice, so I obey him. Taking a seat next to him on the bed, and crossing my legs.
"Yes?" I utter, my voice quiet. His eyes finally meet mine and i bite my lip awkwardly, it'd become a bad nervous habit. "I know you like me, i'm not stupid."
My heart drops to my ass, was this some kind of sick joke? I didn't like him really.. it's just.. a little crush. "W-What? I don't.." I say, itching at my arm as i try to avoid his intense gaze.
"It's okay, I like you too." he says, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. Him saying that was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I shouldn't feel this way, i know i shouldn't. But him confirming his feelings for me made me want him even more than i did before.
"I see the way you look at me y/n.. you.. you just.. fuck." his hand moves over his pants, and i suck in a breath. For the first time I felt like I really wanted a man to touch me. Yoongi specifically.
"Fuck me." I blurt out, and he looks up at me as if he was shocked to hear those words come from my mouth. A laugh escapes his throat. "Thought you were a virgin." he jokes, but the room falls silent.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, it wasn't until then i realized his hand was on my thigh, and i only realized because he moved it away. "Your actually a virgin?" he asks me, looking at me as if he pitied me. I was embarrassed, but i'd never lie about it, so i nod.
It's quiet again, for a long time, until yoongi stands placing his hands on my shoulders and pushing me down onto the bed. "Lay back." he says, his voice low. If this is what being turned on felt like, then i definitely was turned on.
"You still want me to touch you?" He asks, his body coming to lay in between my thighs. I slowly nod, i wanted him to do whatever he pleased with me. I didn't want to have a say in it, as long as he was touching me.
"I won't fuck you." He says, and for the second time my heart drops. Until he pulls my shorts and underwear to the side with no warning, revealing my bare pussy to his eyes. "I do wanna eat you out though." butterflies stirred in my stomach. I was nervous, horny, and excited all at the same time.
"Such a pretty girl." he says, his eyes scanning over my body. His words make me nervous and a blush creeps onto my face, not knowing how to react to this type of treatment.
"Look at me" He says, and i lift my head up, making eye contact with him. "You know how beautiful you are right? All of you." i slowly nod, struggling to look at him.
His arms wrap up around my thighs, holding me in place. "Would've got you naked way sooner if i knew what you were hiding under here." and with that he buries his face in between my legs, licking a long stripe from my slit to my clit. I let out a quiet moan as he lifts his head up to shush me.
"Seojuns asleep." he mutters before dipping his head back down between my thighs. His tounge moves over my clit repeatedly and my hand flies over my mouth, preventing any more sounds from escaping.
He ignores my whiness and protests and slips a finger in, continuing to swipe his tounge over my clit as he looks up at me like i was the prettiest thing in the world.
Tightening around his finger, i lean my head back on the bed again. This was so much different than the books and movies made it seem. It felt way better than I'd thought. I never wanted him to stop.
"Getting so wet for me, you like getting your pussy ate dont you?" he says, his hand moving to rub my clit as he awaits a answer. "Y-Yes.. like it so much.." i whisper out, he chuckles at me, enjoying the effect he had on me.
His tounge dives between my folds, slipping in and out of my hole as i squirm in his grasp. "Don't move baby, let me please you." as much as i wanted to be good it felt too good to stay still. No way.
"Gotta be quiet when you cum on my face okay?" he says in a hushed tone. Finally pulling out his finger to focus on eating me out, my slick covering his mouth and tounge.
"Mmph.. feels so good.." my voice comes out in a whisper and yoongi doesn't bother to respond, to busy sucking on my clit as he senses my approaching orgasm.
"Cum on my face, you can do it." he mumbles into my pussy, and that's all it takes for me to release. My orgasm creeps over me and my back arches off the bed, his hand coming up to rest against my abdomen. He only lifts his head when my cries of overstimulation become too loud.
He half wipes his lips and climbs over me, immediately kissing me as soon as he lays eyes on my face. I kiss him back with no thought, tasting a bit of my cum on his lips before he parts.
"Such a good girl." He says, fixing my shorts and underwear. He crawls off the bed and i sit up, feeling a bit of awkward tension.
"You know i'd stay in here with you if i could but.." I shake my head, I already knew what he'd say. He couldn't stay in here with seojun downstairs sleeping, that'd be stupid.
I nod in understanding and stand up from the bed. "Thank you..?" I say, giving him a soft smile and he grins. Finding my behavior cute. Without another word he walks out of the room and i close the door behind him.
The look on his face told me this wouldn't be the last time this happened.
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peaktora · 8 months
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𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ when gojo comes home, he’s delighted to see his daughter applying makeup to his wife's face.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. you & gojo have a daughter (obviously). established relationship (married). the reader is referred as “mommy” by the kid but other than that there’s no use of fem terms.
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊i completelyy overdid it, this was supposed to be under six hundred words but oh well
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late at night, with the moon casting a soft glow, gojo wearily steps into his home. all he wanted now was to unwind. his body was sore and he craved food, a hot shower, and then sleep. as fast as possible. which he was sure would be put on hold because of you and his daughter. two people he trusted were still awake — who always stayed up just to see him.
he laughs to himself, remembering the countless times he scolded you and your daughter for sacrificing your sleep. but in truth, he loved the surprises he came home to. whether it was you two baking together, with him joining in, or watching a movie where he'd have to catch up on the first 30 minutes, he cherished those moments spent with you and your daughter. it was a family thing.
he quietly slips off his shoes and places them on the wooden rack, the only sound in the house. "they must be sleep," he reasons. he couldn't help but frown. carefully tiptoeing to the kitchen, he heads straight to the fridge, first thing on the list of unwinding being food.
just as he's about to open the fridge, a symphony of giggles dances down from upstairs.
his brows furrowed, hand hesitating on the fridge handle, and glancing towards the stairway. after about thirty seconds of silence, he's convinced that he must've misheard it. but to his surprise, he hears it again.
a smile spreads across his face, knowing his girls were indeed awake and waiting for him.
his mind races as he weighs the options: dinner or investigate the source of the giggles? though deep down, he knows it's a pointless battle. especially when without a second thought, he finds himself practically skipping upstairs. anticipation intertwines with exhaustion, knowing that his loved ones awaits, ready to embrace him in their hold.
thankfully, the sound was so loud that it led him straight to the room where the laughter was coming from. as he approached his bedroom door, voices began to replace the laughter, growing louder and more distinct.
“hmm…what should we do now?”
“well, you’ve got a lot of options.”
his curiosity piqued, he tiptoed closer, skillfully avoiding the creaky floorboards he knew so well. with a gentle touch, he pushed the door open just enough to create a small crack, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the scene inside.
there, in the softly lit room, his daughter sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an array of colorful makeup. the girl’s tiny fingers carefully picked up an eyeliner pencil, her brows furrowing in concentration.
"okay, eyeliner is next mommy!" she declared.
you chuckled softly, leaning closer to her. "alright, my little artist, show me what you've got.”
sitting face to face, eyes locked in a shared moment of love and trust, she delicately traced the pencil along your eyelids. her movements were a mix of focus and excitement, her small hands guided by an invisible artistic instinct. as the lines took shape, her face brightened more and more.
"you're doing great, my little artist," you whispered, voice filled with pride.
she just poked her tongue out from the corner of her lips.
even by only looking through the door, gojo’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and tenderness watching the scene unfold. it was a simple moment, yet it held so much love. and he loved that.
just as he started to close the door, a sudden creak reverberated through the room. damn it. he stands frozen, desperately hoping that neither of you had noticed. but his hopes were dashed when his daughter's voice rang out, "daddy, is that you?"
his nerves tingled, and he hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before finally responding, "yes, sweetheart, it's me."
he slowly pushes the door open, finally revealing his presence. your eyes lock, and a silent conversation unfolds, filled with unspoken words and understanding. it was as if he wanted to say he should've let you know he was here, but before he could speak, the girl infront of you interrupted.
"daddy, come join us!" she exclaimed.
he quickly took a seat beside you, watching as his daughter moved from you to him with the eyeliner in hand.
gojo playfully shook his head, teasing his kid, "no way, kiddo. eyeliner isn’t my style." though once she pouted, he couldn't resist her charm, and with a smile, he relented, "alright, just this once."
"maybe twice," she added, dragging the pencil gently along his eyelid.
“maybe twice.” in his head, he was more than happy to let her do it as many times as she wanted.
groaning, you stood up. “well, you two have fun."
gojo shut his eyes, "hey, how ‘bout a little photoshoot after this?" he suggests.
you place a kiss on his head, "yeah, no, tough pass." and with that, you retreated into the bathroom.
soon as gojo heard the bathroom light flicker on, he peaked open an eye, a playful grin on his face. "looks like it's just me and you now, kiddo.”
“close your eyes!” she huffed.
he obediently replied, "yes ma'am," as she closed his eyes for him.
it didn't matter to him if his eyeliner was smudged or if he hadn't done his nightly routine as planned. what mattered was him getting to add another midnight memory to his collection of family moments.
for the most part, he didn't really care if you three stayed up late if it meant he could add more. actually, scratch that — and put an emphasis on "the most part" because he is fucking exhausted.
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apocalypseornaw · 2 months
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Things Happen
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Dean Winchester x Reader
When you and Dean get hit with a powder on a hunt you're not sure what's gonna happen until you get stuck in an elevator
It's smut yall
It all happened so fast. One minute you, Sam and Dean were chasing a witch through an old warehouse the next she'd turned, throwing an orange, fruity scented powder all over you and Dean just as Sam got the kill shot.
Your eyes met Dean's as both of you were struck with the realization something was wrong. You could hear your own heartbeat, every inch of your body felt like it was on fire and you were acutely aware of the green eyed hunter clenching his jaw tightly against his own pain to ask if you were ok.
“What the hell is this Sam?” You asked, turning to look at the younger Winchester who'd smartly stood a few feet away from the two of you. “I have no idea” the fire that had been contained on your skin chose that moment to rip through your stomach, nearly making you double over. Dean rushed to your side but the moment his hand touched your back it only made the fire worsen, a groan escaping his lips as well.
“You two go back to the hotel. I'll call Rowena in and we'll figure it out” you glanced over at Dean who nodded “Yeah, ok Sammy. Just watch your back until red gets here”
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Every bump the impala hit shot straight through you. Every nerve ending was on fire and the heat between your thighs was getting worse with every passing moment. It took everything you had to concentrate on anything besides the movements of Dean's fingers on the steering wheel. The thought of those fingers on you, his hands splayed across your body, those damn lips of his tasting your skin. What the hell was going on with you?
You'd always been attracted to Dean, you had eyes. He was a gorgeous man, sweet, caring and no matter how he saw himself a truly good person at his core. You had feelings for him beyond friendship but had never once considered acting on them yet now the only thought you had was what would he feel like inside of you?
—-----------------
Dean was trying to concentrate on the road, clenching every muscle in his jaw hard enough there was a chance he'd cracked a tooth. The fruity scent of that powder still clung to the air but under it he could smell you. The shampoo you preferred, the scented lotion you loved. Every damn bump he hit a low moan would slip from you and his cock would twitch at the sound.
You were a beautiful woman, an amazing hunter and one of the most important people to him. He'd always wanted you, wanted more but wouldn't risk it yet now all he could imagine was having you underneath him.
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You followed Dean into the hotel about the time a loud crack of thunder went through the sky and what seemed like hell itself unleashed. “Fucking tsunami” Dean muttered, heading for the elevator.
You stepped in behind him, shaking slightly. Your legs felt like they were made of jello at that point. Your heart rate was higher than it normally was on hunts and you were certain the slick from your core was dripping down your legs at that point. You fell back against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore Dean's breathing.
You closed your eyes when the elevator began to move but it only went six floors then screeched to a halt. Your eyes flew open “Dean?” He shrugged “I'm trying sweetheart, I'm trying” he was hitting the emergency call button repeatedly.
You slid down to the floor, sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest in hopes to soothe the ache throbbing through you. You vaguely heard Dean curse something about a rolling blackout but couldn't care less. The fire, the heat, everything was starting to hurt. You had to get a release “Dean?”
You knew you sounded wrecked but you didn't care you needed it, you needed him. He knelt in front of you and one look in his eyes told you he was barely hanging on himself “I want you” you whispered and he groaned “Sweetheart, baby please don't say that”
You looked up at him and he swallowed hard “I'm barely hanging on here” you leaned forward “Then let go” the moment his lips crashed into yours the heat roared back to life.
Everything in you was screaming that this was Dean, your best friend, your best friend who had never shown interest in you but it didn't matter because if you didn't do something for relief you'd die here in this elevator.
—-----------------
Dean grabbed your ankle and gave a tug, pulling you down onto your back where he could move to be between your legs. Hovering over you he took a few deep breath “Sweetheart” you shook your head “Shut up” 
—-----------
When you pulled him back into another kiss, hooking your legs around his waist Dean felt what resolve he had crumple. Whatever was happening it demanded you. It craved you and he was powerless to fight it.  His hands went to the hem of your shirt and you broke the kiss long enough to snatch it off and throw it. His lips went from yours, down your neck then he started to kiss down your chest “I need more Dean, fuck it hurts and I need more”
He knew what you meant. He was hurting. His cock was harder than it'd ever been and the fire, fuck the fire nipping through his body. He had to help you first, had to get you somewhat level headed. He nodded then lowered his lips to your stomach.
He used one hand to unsnap your jeans and then slipped it inside, he moaned into your skin at the feeling of the warm moisture he found seeping from your pussy. You were soaked and responsive to the point that a barely there flicker of his fingers made your back arch off the floor. “Please”
He freed your body of your boots and jeans faster than he'd ever undressed himself even. He took a moment to sit back on his heels and look at you. A brief moment of clarity telling him to stop this, he could handle the pain but what if you regretted him when this was over? “Dean it hurts please help me” you begged and that was all it took. He licked into you in one fluid motion and your fingers tangled in his hair “Yes, fuck Dean”
—------------
Dean began to work you towards an orgasm, flicking his tongue against your clit while he added a finger, curling it up to hit that spot inside of you. The pleasure began to push back against the pain and you found yourself unashamed as you ground your hips down against Dean's face. Your moans urged him on and when he shifted just slightly that blinding heat gave way to pleasure. He worked you through the orgasm and you could feel the pain roll back a bit.
When you became too sensitive you weakly shoved at his head. He pulled away and smiled up at you “Feeling better?” You nodded “Wanna take those jeans off?” His smile slipped into a grin “Yes ma'am”
—--------------
Dean slipped his jeans, shirt and boots off before tucking his shirt under your head as a makeshift pillow. Even if this was something pushing you two to do this he was going to make you as comfortable as possible. His hand shook slightly and he wasn't sure of the cause of it but you underneath him, all spread out and begging made that heat roar to life. 
He held your eyes as he slipped into you, both of you groaning at the feeling. Once he was fully inside of you he stilled, his muscles shaking with the urge to take you hard and fast. He could fight this enough to be gentle, to make it amazing for you. It was the only hope he had for you to not hate him when you were both clear headed.
Your eyes focused on him and you smiled “Fuck me Dean, please” he caught your lips in a hungry kiss “Oh sweetheart you're gonna be the death of me” 
—----------------
Dean buried his face in your neck as his thrusts got harder and deeper. You were so close to that edge you just needed a little more. Without you having to say anything Dean slipped a hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your back arched, pressing your breasts up into his chest as you came with a loud moan of his name. 
Once your vision cleared a bit you could feel Dean holding back. He needed to come, he needed that release from the heat, the pain. “Come for me Dean. Please” you begged, tightening your grip on his shoulders and spreading your legs further to give him deeper access.
You could feel his thrusts get harder and knew he was close. He pulled his face up to catch his lips in a kiss. You poured everything you'd always felt into the kiss, trying to tell him you'd wanted this for years that it wasn't just magical shit forcing the two of you to do this. You wanted Dean, you wanted to feel him come inside of you, you wanted to be his.
He groaned into your mouth as he slammed into you one final time and you felt him come filling you up.
—---------
You lay there for a few moments, Dean's now softening cock still inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. Both of your heads were cleared now, the effects having worn off. 
“Dean I..” your words were cut off by Dean's phone ringing. He pulled out of you gently before retrieving his phone. You could only hear his end which consisted of “Yeah we figured that out….just what it sounds like Sam…..what?...That's not..yeah ok…. I know….I know”
He hung up then looked at you where you were now slowly slipping back into your clothes. He did the same but when you started to tie your boots he knelt down and tied them for you. Neither of you had spoken the last few minutes.
When he stood up he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you “Sweetheart” yet again the two of you were interrupted by the elevator choosing that moment to start working again.
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You stayed in Dean's arms until you reached the tenth floor. You stepped off first and he watched you carefully. What was going through his head? What was going through yours? You'd figured out it was sex pollen. A few hunters had run across different variants but the cure was always to fuck it out your system. It was never meant to kill but would if you didn't give in.
You stepped off the elevator first and Dean walked off behind you. You headed for the conjoined rooms you, him and Sam had gotten. You could feel the heat from him at your back but this time it was a very human feeling.
—----------
You unlocked the door to your room and was about to step inside when Dean's hand grabbed your arm. You looked at him and he took a deep breath “That was..” “Sex pollen, I know. I know that's why that happened” 
He shook his head “No, sweetheart you don't. The pollen may have caused it but it wasn't just the pollen”
“What are you saying Dean?” You asked pulling your arm away from him to cross it over your other arm. “I'm saying I tried to hold off as long as I could because of how much I care about you, how long I've wanted to do that. I just, I hope you don't hate me now”
You shook your head “I couldn't hate you for us saving both our lives. I couldn't hate you for anything, I care about you way too much”  he half smiled “Care about me like you care about Sam or?” You cut him off by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 
You stepped back and shrugged “Care about you like if you want to try this between us for real I wouldn't be opposed to it” a grin slipped onto his face “I want you for a lot longer than a day or two” you returned his grin “Good cause it's gonna take a long time for me to get sick of you” 
Before you could say anything else Dean stepped closer and picked you up, his hands bracing under your thighs. You gasped lightly and he grinned “Sometimes witches aren't too bad I guess, if they got me you”  you laughed "Oh shut up and take me inside"
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doumadono · 3 months
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MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
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💥Late one night, while heading home, you realized someone was tailing you. Your pace quickened, and eventually, you broke into a run, with your pursuer doing the same.
💥Running in fear, you accidentally crashed into a solid chest. Gazing upward, you recognized the face of the pro hero Bakugo Katsuki, also known as Dynamight.
💥He noticed your scared expression and asked, "What's wrong?"
💥You shared what happened, and he handled it.
💥"Come on, doll, I'll walk you home," he said after handling the person following you.
💥You and boxer!Bakugo have been dating for a while ever since. Despite being quite different, things just clicked between you two.
💥He used his limited free time to train and get stronger, while you worked as a sidekick in a pro hero's agency.
💥He was well-known in town, and folks often wondered how a timid girl like you ended up with someone as tough and dangerous as Bakugo.
💥He was the best part of your life - your tough, strong, beefy boyfriend, and your cuddle buddy at the same time.
💥You weren't exactly a fan of his boxing hobby, but you still supported him.
💥After each fight, he'd return home victorious, winning every time. But, along with the victories, he'd also bring back cuts, bruises, and a heap of pent-up frustration.
💥Seeing him so broken broke your heart; the pain weighed heavier on you than on him. You'd carefully treat his wounds, bruises, and cuts, gently asking about his fights and questioning if he's certain about pursuing his side career while also juggling daily hero duties.
💥"I'm good, doll. No need to fret," he'd reassure you as you cared for his injuries. "I enjoy boxing. It's quite calming." Honestly, for a strong guy like him, the cuts and bruises weren't that painful. Still, he allowed you to care for his injuries because it warmed him to know his girl cared so much.
💥Boxer!Bakugo enjoys hitting the boxing gym regularly for training; it keeps him toned and in impeccable shape, ready to effortlessly pursue villains.
💥One day, you decide to visit the boxing gym Bakugo frequents five times a week. After finishing your shift, you enter the gym. A friendly lady at the reception offers help, but you decline, explaining that you're just here to see your boyfriend.
💥You see him right away; there's no mistaking him. He's wearing a snug, black tank top highlighting his muscular torso and six-pack, paired with dark grey sweatpants. Black boxing gloves adorn his hands, and a black bandana secures his hair, keeping it away from his intense crimson eyes.
💥You perk up hearing Katsuki's grunts as he throws punches and kicks at the heavy bag. Watching your boyfriend train gets you all excited. A quiet sigh escapes you as you notice sweat trickling down his forehead and nose, dripping to his neckline, and running under his black tank top. You bite your lower lip - he looks oh so fuckable.
💥Spotting you, he grabs a towel, mops his sweaty face, and strides to the edge of the boxing ring. "Hey, doll, what brings you here?"
💥You confess that you wanted to watch him train to get a better grasp of his world. Surprisingly, you admit you never realized how deeply he was immersed in the whole boxing thing.
💥He chuckles, "Yep, been telling you, doll. Okay, I guess that's all for today. Come, I need to change."
💥You follow Bakugo into a locker room after he assures you it's fine and no one will mind. The desires become too intense, and he pushes you against the door, shutting it firmly.
💥Protest? Not a chance. You just let out a little yelp as he catches you off guard.
💥His lips meet yours forcefully, his hands gripping your waist. You reach to remove his bandana and run your fingers through his hair.
💥Simply sharing these heated kisses with you ignites a fervor in boxer!Bakugo; he feels hornier than a teenager.
💥As he removes your snug uniform pants from your legs and casually kicks them away, his calloused finger slips in you, slowly stretching you out. You unfasten the top part of your uniform, slip it off your shoulders, then pull your arms back to peel your tight sports bra off, freeing your breasts; they bounce after being released.
💥Bakugo places wet kisses all around your exposed chest, his tongue poking out and flicking over your hardened buds as he slips another digit in you, stretching you out.
💥At that moment, you're already a moaning mess, and all of your shyness flew out of the window.
💥Bakugo emits a low growl as he senses the dampness seeping into his training sweatpants as he slips a third finger into your tight, wet hole, fucking you relentless, using his thumb to massage your clitoris. Boxer!Bakugo feels himself getting painfully hard as his cock twitches within his pants.
💥He withdraws his fingers, and there's an extra string of your wetness covering his thick digits. "Mmmm, look at ya, doll," he cooes, "already soaked, just for me."
💥Bakugo pulls down his sweatpants and boxers at one go, allowing them to pool around his ankles.
💥You yank his tight tank top off, revealing a muscular torso covered in sweat.
💥Bakugo uses the slick leftover on his hand from fingering you to lube up his rock-hard cock.
💥Gazing downward at the red tip leaking pre cum, a moan escapes your lips as you endeavor to press against his pelvis with a subtle grind as if to slide his cock in yourself already.
💥Boxer!Bakugo leans in, finally gliding the engorged tip of his dick along your dripping hole, which is clenching around nothing now.
💥He finally enters you, stretching you deliciously, and you clench around him blissfully, making him groan.
💥He promptly thrusts into you with a vigorous rhythm, yearning for the melody of your sweet moans, the snug embrace of your thighs, and the gentle contractions of your velvety walls enclosing his hard cock. Lifting you effortlessly, you instinctively coil your legs around his hips, securing your ankles behind him as your thighs press against his sides.
💥While he's fucking you, he begins uttering the most lewd words into your ear. "Yea, you like that, don't ya, doll?”; "Yea, baby, squeeze me tighter, give it to me, give it all to me!”; “Fuck, it feels so fucking good, doll.”
💥As you start moaning like a whore, Bakugo skillfully places his fingers into your mouth, a move aimed at tempering the volume of your pleasure-filled noises as you continue to moan around them.
💥You're uttering incoherent words and moans around his fingers — part desperate pleas, part unintelligible expressions —as he relentlessly fucks your tiny cunt.
💥As your cunny clench tighter around his throbbing cock, he withdraws his fingers from your mouth and descends them to firmly stimulate your clit.
💥“Yes! Please, Katsy! Right there, right there!" you moan like a cheap whore, trying to roll your hips for more friction.
💥You're trembling and convulsing as he feels you cream all over his throbbing cock. Bakugo emits a loud moan at the sensation and can't resist following suit, filling your swollen, abused pussy to the brim with his warm, thick cum. Yet, he doesn't cease there; oh, not at all.
💥With his cock still inside you, and with the mix of your cums dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs, Bakugo initiates a more rapid and vigorous rubbing against your swollen clit than in the previous instance.
💥"Come on, darling, one more for me. I know you've got it in you. Just one more. I've been fucking missing for you all day, doll."
💥Your mouth hangs agape as pleasure consumes you, drool trickling from the corner of your parted lips. "K-Kats!"
💥Katsuki spits on his hand and moves it down where you both are still conjoined, intensifying your arousal; the slick is dripping from you onto the floor as he continues to rub your wet, glistening folds.
💥You release a slight cry as you gush and squirt on his cock, spraying and covering his abdomen with the wetness; some of your juices is trickling onto the floor.
💥"Yes, doll, I knew you had it in you. Show me more, unleash everything you've got," he chuckled with a dark undertone.
💥He swiftly becomes hard once more, and thrusts in you at an unrelenting pace; occasional droplets of slick juices are squirting out of you and landing on his toned abs.
💥Boxer!Bakugo is chasing his second orgasm, basically using you as his own fucktoy; his hold is firm around your waist, and he effortlessly brings you up and down on his throbbing dick, his hips pistoning into yours.
💥At this stage, your juices are beyond control - every thrust Bakugo gives is met by a gush of your wetness, creating a pool on the floor. "Kats! Kats! O-Oh! OH! Fuuuck!"
💥Bakugo halts abruptly, executing a series of preliminary thrusts before you feel his warm cum shoot into your abused pussy once more.
💥You cry out, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, as Bakugo gently lowers your feet to the ground.
💥After he pulls his flaccid dick out of you, the blend of your cums trickles down your trembling thighs.
💥"You did so well f'me, doll," he whispered before kissing you again. "Well, looks like we both could use a shower. Fuck, you've worn me out more than a hardcore training session, doll."
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haeryna · 3 months
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first time that i called you mine (that wasted summer) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☀︎。 ⋆。 ゚
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← previous | ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | next →
summary: suguru figures out he loves you the summer when you're both fifteen. satoru calls you his a few months after. when you finally realize it, there's nothing left to call yours. ↪ a continuation of this drabble
tw: angst, referenced abandonment, homophobia, implied mild sexual content, reader calls satoru a manwhore (affectionate), swearing, the author loves parentheses a concerningly large amount, not proofread teehee
notes: title taken from loote's wasted summer. reader is a teenager, along with satoru, suguru, and shoko. banner from @/cafekitsune
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Suguru is only six years old when he falls in love with you.
At first, it was entirely childish. When he saw you for the first time, tears streaming down your cheeks by the creek he'd explore with Satoru, he liked feeling needed. He liked how you'd clung to him so desperately, and selfishly, he liked having something he didn't share with Satoru.
(He should have known that whatever was Suguru's inevitably also became Satoru's)
He knew he loved you when you were eight, bravely defending Satoru from a group of bratty kids who were calling him slurs before Satoru had even knew what love was. He knew he loved you when you were twelve and crying for him when Suguru got into his first fist fight, sniffling as you patched up the bloody scrapes after.
But this was different.
"Sugu, sit still!" you hissed, as he squirmed uncomfortably on the lumpy sofa that resided in his basement. You were fifteen, and tired of Suguru complaining about how the nearest piercer was a two hour drive away. In one hand you brandished a piercing gun; in your other, the piercings that were meant to go into his earlobes. Besides you, Satoru gleefully filmed Suguru's discomfort.
"Are you sure that's sanitary? Why are we doing this because you're bored, can't you experiment on Satoru first?" Suguru shot back, leaning away from the piercing gun.
"You're such a big baby, you've been complaining about your empty earlobes for months now. You literally came with me to buy the piercing gun, which cost me my whole allowance by the way, so sit still. And it's summer break, so if you're going to do something dramatic to your appearance, you have to do it now." Before he could stop you, you determinedly swung your leg up and over, lightly straddling his lap.
Suguru realized several critical things as he registered your weight sinking into him.
You smelled like the meadows you'd roamed as kids, mixed with the smell of cigarette smoke (Shoko had convinced him to take up smoking with her) and burnt sugar (Satoru's failed attempt at some monstrosity that still sat smoking in Suguru's kitchen). You smelled like them, he realized. Like a mix of the people who loved you.
You were pretty. He'd always known that, but now, with the heat of your body pressed against his, he didn't realize how somewhere along the way you'd grown into your gangly limbs and the clothes you complained were a few sizes too large.
These two realizations were combined with the fact that he was a boy, a teenaged boy, and you were so close that his heart was going to burst. You smelled like flowers, smoke, and sugar, you smelled like him, like you could be his, and if you moved an inch lower you would know that the Suguru you always came to for comfort was just another boy, and he couldn't bear it. He would rather die than lose you, he would do anything just to have you, he wanted, he wanted, he wanted-
"Yay, all done!" Effortlessly you slid right off his lap as fast as you'd hopped on it, and it was then he realized his earlobes were stinging. In the time he'd spent dazedly staring at you, you'd pierced his ears.
Satoru snickered, still holding his phone obnoxiously close to Suguru's face. "He looks like he's in shock. Hey, if I get a piercing, would you straddle me like that too? You'll make me jealous, you know."
As the two of you bickered in the background, Suguru couldn't help but swallow shakily, lightly pressing his fingertips to the round black earrings you'd picked out for him.
"I love it," he says quietly. "Thank you."
(I love you, is what he meant to say, but you didn't understand because you merely shot him a smug smile before berating Satoru for being a "manwhore, Satoru, I'm not like your groupies at school, go get one of them to pierce your ears for you if you want one so bad!")
Suguru has always known he's loved you, but that summer, he knew he loved you.
Where Suguru goes, Satoru follows. It's only inevitable that he'd realize he was in love with you too. Despite his easygoing nature and flirtatious charms, there's a critical difference between Suguru and Satoru. Satoru gets possessive, a dangerous combination of the spoiled upbringing and how guarded his heart is.
"Who is that?"
Satoru blatantly stares at the boy leaning against your locker. Pettily, he thinks that he's definitely shorter than Satoru, and uglier too. It doesn't seem to matter though, because you're laughing at whatever the he said. As you turn to reach for your books, the hungry look in the boy's eyes make Satoru's fists clench.
"Kenji?" Shoko looks amused when she sees the look in Satoru's eyes. "Isn't he in our English class? He's got a massive crush on her, apparently it's all he talks to his friends about."
Satoru grits his teeth. "Oh, does he?"
He can't quite explain the burning, insidious feeling that forms in his chest. What could've possibly been so funny to make you laugh like that? The smiles you're giving him, why didn't you give those to Satoru too?
The boy, Kenji, reaches over to your face, looking as though he's going to tuck a loose strand of hair around your ear. Something inside of Satoru snaps. He stalks over, ignoring Shoko's snicker, calling your name loudly and abruptly.
"There you are!"
You turn, surprised, as Kenji's hand drops away, his lovesick smile turning into something that looks something similar to fear. "'Toru, where were you? Suguru said he needed to stay in during lunch for a club, but I couldn't find you when I waited outside your classroom."
Satoru's heart lurches traitorously inside his chest, and before he can stop himself, he latches onto your wrist, tugging you towards him. "Don't scare me like that," he murmurs, cradling you firmly in his arms. "Shoko and I couldn't find you, it made me worried."
You peer up at him, clueless to the long forgotten boy fuming behind you. "Ah, I'm sorry, I forgot I left my lunch in my locker." Something in Satoru's chest yearns. Is it because you're so used to his physical affection, his touch, his love, that you don't give him the same starry eyed look as the boy who's still awkwardly waiting by your locker? How can he get you to look like that? How could he make you love him too?
The realization doesn't strike him like he expects, but it feels a bit like finally finding the choreography that fit with the song, the way that he would find a lyric for a song Suguru was attempting to write. It felt like coming home, and reclaiming what was once lost.
Satoru loved you. He has always loved you.
"Let's go," he says, signature smile back on his face, any trace of vulnerability long gone. As he intertwines his fingers with yours, he turns back to see the resigned, frustrated look on Kenji's face.
Just to be an asshole, he tucks your hair behind your ear as you walk away.
You're sixteen when Suguru and Satoru get together. They don't tell you anything. They don't have to. You can see it in the way that Suguru cradles Satoru's face when he falls asleep, affection settling warm in his dark brown eyes. You can see it in the way that Satoru somehow always needs something from Suguru at the precise moment that a girl tries to ask him out. It's in the dark purple marks you can see peaking out from Suguru's collarbone when his shirt slips down an inch, in the way that when Satoru stretches, you can see angry red scratches down his back.
You're sixteen when Satoru's parents find out, shattering the life that you once had. You're sixteen, sitting in Suguru's basement, sobbing as his parents tell you that he's gone. Shoko is saying something to you, but everything feels muffled and hazy, as you let out a choked wail. You know he's gone. The guitar you gave him only a couple months ago, the binder full of music he's composed, even Satoru's clothes that he'd keep in the dresser next to his bed. Every trace of them is gone. You feel as though they took your heart with you.
You're sixteen when Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru leave you, and it's in that moment that you realize you loved them a little too late.
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fangisms · 8 months
Text
wish it on your worst enemy
A/N: if you see me butchering british slang 🤨 it never happened 🤫
Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your worst nighmare takes a nasty spill during a scrimmage because he was distracted by you. It’s only right you go and check on him. 1.9k words
Warnings: violence by bludger, description of injury, cursing, lovesick losers, enemies to lovers???? ‘enemies’ to lovers but really idiots to lovers
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George taking a bludger to the face was not the kind of news you would have liked to wake up to. Something had gone wrong during an emergency weekend scrimmage. He was laughing at something Fred said or shouting at Ron or maybe he was just distracted by his own thoughts and hadn't noticed the pesky bugger barreling towards him with every intent to bludgeon him unconscious. So he took a nasty spill from a considerable height and has been passed out in the hospital wing since six forty-five.
You rush down the hallway in your pajamas, cursing under your breath, face scrunched into a scowl, dead set on your target. Bloody quidditch. A few first years watched you nearly trample a group of girls in the hall. They were traumatized. It was bad.
"He's gone daft! This is absolutely mental—nothing is that distracting!" you shout at Ron who is actively trying to defend himself against you. He stopped you at the door because he heard you storming down the hall a full minute before you arrived.
"Calm down! He’s still alive isn't he?" he says.
"Not for long if I have anything to say about it—"
"Oi," Fred shouts, lounging in a rickety chair beside George's cot, "would you wait 'till he's at least cognizant to threaten him?"
"You!" you fume, "why didn't you warn him!" Ron has given up trying to stop you at this point. You push past him, headed straight for Fred.
"I did! I shouted for him three times. The git was proper distracted. Must've been dreaming of something really special." He winks at you, and you think you could ring his neck right about now.
"I think you mean someone," Ron teases.
Both of them. You'll ring both of their necks.
"What the hell are you two chittering about?" you hiss.
"Oh, nothing at all, your graciousness. We'll leave you two lovebirds"—Fred clears his throat, standing and nodding to his youngest brother—"I mean friends... to it."
You grumble and flip them both off as they leave. You plop down into the chair just in time for Madam Pomfrey to come fluff the pillow propped beneath his left leg. She catches your weary glance over his limp body.
"I wouldn't worry too much, dearie. Nasty spills are what young men are made for. He just needs a little rest. Time to recover," she coos, smiling up at you from the base of the cot. You briefly worry the back of your neck before managing a nod.
"Thank you, madam. I appreciate it."
She grabs a quilt from the stack she had brought to his bedside and flattens it across his torso. You tug the side to even it out, a hitch in your breath when your fingers brush his cold knuckles.
"You know, when I attended Hogwarts, the quidditch boys were all the rage. My boyfriend was a Beater as well—"
"Oh, George—! He's not my..."
"He was wonderful. But of course, he was always getting into spills. It drove me mad to see the boy I loved in so much pain. In the end, I told him he'd have to be more careful or I'd call it quits. He told me he had to focus on his career anyway." She stands silently for a moment. Solemnly.
"That's terrible. I'm so sorry."
"You live and you learn. Boys will be boys, I suppose." Out of her trance, she shrugs and gestures to the clipboard sat on the desk. You hand it to her.
"May I ask... what became of him?"
"He retired from Quidditch very young. Only a few years in and, bam: traumatic brain injury. Some people can't be helped!"
You can't help but snicker at her frankness. She smiles, pats your shoulder, and sighs.
"You just have to love ‘em while you can."
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."
"Of course, dear. You let me know when he wakes up." She scuttles away.
You take the silence of the moment to look at him. While you can. You prop your elbows on the edge of the cot and rest your head in your hands.
"Not sure how I feel about all of that information. Not sure how much I trust that advice." You tell him like it’s a secret, nose scrunched like there’s anyone else within earshot.
How fragile he seems laid flat atop this plastic wrapped bed. How rich the watercolor purples and yellows of his bruise. Down his neck, out across his jaw. The subtle swoop of his lashes, the rosy bridge of his nose. Then down to his bird bone fingers, your heart skips at the thought of tracing over the delicate skin.
He twitches, and you startle and sit pin straight. His muscles relax, though yours refuse to. You notice a rip at the hem of his folded quidditch robes and perk up.
Eight minutes later, you’re tugging just the edge of his robe into your lap while the rest is feathered out across the linoleum floor. Your emergency sewing kit is perched on your other thigh as you thread your needle and begin stitching.
George blinks the ache from his eyes, finally awake just to find you with a thin string caught between your teeth, your brow furrowed, and your fingers pinching fabric together. He reaches up and presses the heel of his palm to his forehead.
"Thank Merlin I wore something under my uniform today—"
"George!"
The sewing kit clatters to the floor along with the robe and thread. Hopefully that needle will be easy to find. But you smile for now, and it’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever seen. No wonder he took a bludger’s hit. You’re bloody distracting. Even when you’re not around.
“I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey, she said—"
"Were you... stitching up my quidditch robes?” he says, just a hint of teasing in his hoarse voice.
You look down and gape at the mess.
"There was a tear in—when you fell, the bottom—there was a rip! I had a sewing kit on me, I was just... helping a friend."
He blinks. If he wasn’t completely crushing on you before, it’s safe to say that was the nail in the coffin.
"That's adorable," he warbles.
You look cross and put your hands on your hips and scoff.
“Well, you can’t very well play with a rip in your uniform!"
"No. No, of course not,” he mumbles, “Silly me.”
Usually, you’d mock him. You’d call him names and tease him for getting knocked on his ass by and inanimate object. But that smirk has you incapacitated. He's making this very difficult for you.
"Well!” he chirps, “Don’t let me bother you, I’ll just be lying here."
"But Pomfrey—"
"I'll live. My mind is alive, the neurons are firing. All is well, it can wait,” he says, “Please.”
Goddamn you, George Weasley. You muster up a pathetic sigh and sit back on the stool, getting back to work on his robe.
But he’s back to grinning like a fool, admiring the way your tongue pokes the corner of your mouth when you focus. It’s incredibly endearing.
"You're very beautiful."
Daggers. “Shut up.”
He chuckles. "What? I find you to be very agreeable, poppet."
"Gee, thanks, Weasley,” you huff, “Do you want this stitch fixed or not—"
"Don’t get your dear panties in a twist, I’m only trying to compliment you. Would you just take it while I’m too ill to make fun of you properly?"
But he finds you very agreeable. And now you know that out loud. More than an inkling. More than friends. Oh, he’s awful.
"Quit staring."
"Sincerest apologies."
You roll your eyes and glare at him while the needle punctures the thick fabric.
"Why don’t I just tell Madam Pomfrey—"
"And ruin a moment? Come on, let me get a good look at you, you're the reason I’m in this mess,” George mumbles.
"Me?"
"Yes, you! Your stupid face won't get out of my head."
"Be serious, Weasley—"
"I am! You’ve cursed me, poppet, can't think straight unless I’m thinking of you."
"That's not fair!" you say.
"No, it’s not," he huffs, "I love you."
Shock. From both of you. More than friends, and more than a simple crush, now. But love. Love, for Merlin’s sake! Do you love him?
"You're being idiotic—”
"No. I'm not. I've thought long and hard about it, and I love you, and you can't change my mind—"
"George, quit it,” you say.
"Everyone knows it, poppet, I adore you, and—"
"I love you, too, George, now would you shut up!"
Well, then. Secrets out, no holds barred.
And he’s smiling all smug to himself, even though his left side is a bit swollen. And you’re back to fiddling with the stitched up tear in his robe. You’ve got crazy eyes. He thinks you might murder the stitched up tear in his robe. Or confess your love to it.
You groan.
"Stop smiling like that. You look crazy."
He shrugs. "I am crazy…"
"Do not—"
"… Crazy in love."
"I hate you"
"I know."
You look at him. And he’s looking back at you terribly fondly. As fragile as he seems now, he feels invincible. You fold up his fixed uniform and set it on the desk.
"George,” you sigh, “you have to stop getting hurt."
He nods curtly. "Okay. I’m sorry."
You squint at him, suspicious and expecting just a little pushback.
"... It's... okay, I just worry about you. I don't like seeing you like this." The stool scrapes against the floor, and George reaches for your hand.
"I know you don't, poppet. It won't happen again,” he says.
"Good. And if it does, then—"
"Then I’ll quit the team.”
"What!"
"I’ll do it. I’ll quit for you. I’ve got other things to worry about anyway. More important things than some silly sport where balls fly at your face."
Your eyes sparkle. For him, and it makes him absolutely giddy. He presses his thumb to the back of your hand and cocks a brow.
"Now,” he sighs, “would you come here and give me my hard won kiss?"
"Oh, so you won a kiss.”
"Nobly so. Dutifully and honorably. Nothing less than the best for your highness."
"Fine, whatever, only because you think I’m beautiful.”
You lean over his arm, trying not to nudge any of his tender injuries. While you’re being so careful, he’s straining for your kiss, jutting his neck out and shuffling under the quilt. He grunts at the overexertion, and you sit back before he gets his kiss.
"Nope! I’m getting Pomfrey!"
"One peck! Swear, I won’t move an inch!"
"Madam, he's awake!”
"Wonderful news, darling!" she calls from the other side of the wing, preparing a jug of water and a two glasses.
"You're horrible, and you torture me. You don’t love me at all, witch!" he whines, voice low
"On the contrary, I love you a good deal too much, which is why I’m so horrible."
He grumbles something under his breath.
Then chirps: "Be my girlfriend.”
You fold your hands in your lap. "If I must"
"And let me be your boyfriend,” he pleads.
"Well, what else would you be?"
"Your servant, your house pet. A footstool if you needed it.”
“George Weasley, you’re a fool,” you tease, reaching over to fix a strand of hair behind his ear.
"Yes, I am. A fool who loves you very much.”
“Sap.”
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weird-is-life · 1 year
Text
Sorry, i'm late
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Summary: You are late to your first date with Spencer and he misunderstands it as you standing him up
Warnings: language, angst, fluff, mentions of food, use of y/n and pet names
Words: 1k Masterlist
A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes
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It was your first date with Spencer, the cute, a little shy neighbour. You didn't know him long, only since you'd bumped into him one late night.
You were dragging a huge pot for your new plant to your also new apartment and Spencer just came from a case. Somehow, you started a small talk and it went from there.
One day, he gathered enough courage to ask you out and when you didn't immediately respond, he was ready to apologise and run away. But you said yes with a big grin, you liked Spencer a lot, so of course you said yes.
But the date didn't start the way, you thought it would have, like at all. You were late and you felt like crying because of it.
Your car decided not to work just when you went to leave. Then you went to call a taxi, but your phone was fucking dead.
You couldn't drive there, you couldn't call a taxi and most importantly you couldn't even call Spencer to let him know, that you were running late.
You literally ran to the closest bus stop and got on the first bus, which's stop was the nearest to the restaurant, you were supposed to meet at.
You looked worriedly at your watch, you didn't know if you were thankful or not for at least it working, 'cause it showed, that you were 20 minutes late.
Your leg was bouncing as you impatiently waited for the bus to stop. As soon as the door opened, you bolted out of there and sprinted to the restaurant. By the time you got there, your lungs were burning and your side hurt.
You wasted no time to go inside and look for him, but you couldn't find him.
"Umm miss, can i help you with something?" a waiter asked you.
"Yes, my friend made a reservation here? Reid, Spencer Reid?" you questioned, hoping he'd still be there.
"I'll look..." he looked at some paper and you nervously bit your lip,"Ah yes, table six. But i think your friend has already left."
Your face fell, god you felt so stupid for accidently standing him up, " y-you wouldn't happen to know when he left, would you?"
"I think it was around 5 minutes ago."
"Thank you so much..." you stumbled with a frown out of there, mad at yourself. Spencer probably thought you just said yes to make fun of him.
And indeed, he really thought that. Spencer anxious waited for you. The first ten minutes, he still thought you were coming, it was normal for people to be late. But when 10 minutes turned into 25, he gave up.
He really thought, you would come and worse he thought, you actually liked him. A big mistake as it appeared.
He payed for the water, he ordered and went home. The embarrasment was nowhere near as big as the dissapointment, he felt. Swallowing hard, he drove home and slumped on his couch, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
You on the other hand were running (speed walking, 'cause your stamina was gone) through the city again. You couldn't let Spencer think you stood him up, there was no way you'd let that happen.
And to your 'luck' it even started raining. You felt like the biggest fucking joke. You got to your apartment complex in record time. You were soaked to the bone and gasping for air, but still very determined to explain everything to Spencer.
You quickly knocked on his door. You stood there, a water puddle formed under you, while you waited for him to open. He didn't.
You could hear the sounds coming from the inside and you saw his car parked outside, so you knew, he was home.
You tried again, this time calling his name out, too.
You heard a shuffle of stuff and then the door swung open, " Yes?" He asked, avoiding looking at you.
"I'm so-"
"We don't need to do this. I get it, you didn't want to go out, it's okay" he went to close the door, but you put your hand on the door.
"Please y/n, j-just leave" he pleaded quietly. It wasn't the first time, someone played a cruel prank on him.
"B-but i did want to go out with you, i really did," you sighed and he looked at you for the first time, surprised to see you all wet and he clearly didn't believe you.
"I mean it. I was ready to leave, but my car wouldn't start. So I wanted to call you, let you know i was going to be late and then call taxi, but my phone was dead, well still is," you pulled it out of your pocket, finding it also drowned now, " So then i got on the first bus and ran to the restaurant. You weren't there a-and i asked the waiter, he said you left around 5 minutes ago. So I quickly ran here, hoping to explain, "
You didn't even notice, that Spencer started smiling halfway through your explanation as you rambled, looking everywhere but Spencer.
"I was really looking forward to the date, Spencer. I would never stand you up like that "you paced anxiously from one foot to the other, eyes fixed on the floor.
"You ran to the restaurant?" Spencer  asked, astonished and amused.
"Well yeah," you sheepishly admited, "as i said, i was excited about the dinner."
Spencer couldn't stop smiling, he was so relieved to find out, it was just a misuderstanding, " W-would you like to come inside for a pizza?"
"What?" you looked at up in confusion at Spencer and found him softly smiling at you.
"I'm not mad at you, i believe you" he said.
"Really?"
"Yes, so would you like to come over for pizza?"
"Definitely," you said, maybe too quickly, but you didn't really care,"just give me a second. I have to change out of these" you gestured at your soaked clothes.
"Great, i'll leave the door open, yeah? So you can just walk inside" he beamed at you. Spencer was glad, that you said yes to this back up plan.
"Okay, i'll be right back" you sprinted to the elevator with a big smile, making Spencer chuckle at you.
Maybe the date didn't start the way you imagined it would, but the rest of it was better than your expectations.
...
...
...
Hey guys, thank you for reading. Feedback is always appreciated. Please let me know what you think. Also, i'm thinking about taking some requests, sooo if you have any feel free to send them in.
Have a great day and stay safe everybody. Peace out ☀️
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moondirti · 1 year
Note
Idk if you have answered an ask like this already but please feed me some possessive/ jealous Ghost hc or whatever bc that man is 10 times sexier while jealous and possessive.
Pls just imagine jealous sex with this man omg…
he would not know how to handle himself i'm pretty sure. sorry to sabotage your thirst anon, i just love me a repressed man :) anyway, this is for the same mc in cigarettes out the window (reader with the call sign 'scout') but it can be read entirely separate! so, without further ado here's some jealous ghost
He's colossal, a force composed of pure brawn and unfathomable depths. Talk of Ghost illustrates him as a norse warrior to end all, the nightmare fuel of enemies who can't help but pale at a skull face. Wholly a reputation founded on that tactical precision; charcoal eyes, half-lidded to contain the ire that bubbles like magma. It's all physical. You'd just assumed that strength extended to his emotional conviction as well.
But he gets quiet sometimes, eerily so. The type where he embodies his name and dissipates like shadow on you. You don't see him for days.
It definitely depends on the stage of your relationship. Catch him jealous before the six month mark and he'd choose to abandon ship. It's that instinctive fight or flight, the choice to back down and reassess before he loses another one of his men. But you're not the enemy; your hands are soft and supple when they cradle his face, never seeking to add to his scars. You're gentle when you tell him that it's him, always will be; no one can ever compare to the behemoth you'd surrendered your heart to.
It takes a lot of time to get Simon to the point where he allows himself to be possessive. The first time, it goes something like this:
Some bar in France, cleared out for their obligatory drink post-mission. Johnny had held him up, pulling him off to the side to start on a tangent about his makeshift bomb that ended up saving their lives. His eyes stay fixed on you, edging to his peripheral where you're caught up in a rather funny conversation with Gaz.
You muffle your snicker behind a shaking hand. Simons' own squeeze into fists.
While your relationship with the Lieutenant has yet to be defined, the men of the 141 recognise the silent claim that curls over your shoulders. It was written in your sleepy sigh, dewy skin gleaming with contentment, that night they'd woke at a safe house to find you three inches closer to his mattress. It was the first of many, many hints.
Garrick isn't flirting with you, not by a long shot.
But he is making you laugh. Perhaps harder than Simon ever has.
He can't really describe what overcomes him. It's a rib-shattering heartbeat, working overtime to supply his vision with brimming red. A deeply vulnerable pit bottoming out in his gut; that fear, still there, that you're only temporary. He only acts on the former so he won't face the latter.
He leaves Soap with no more than a clap on the back. The sergeant takes it for what it is, a promise to continue later.
"Price wants you on reports."
"Does he?" You shoot him an incredulous expression, shifting back and forth from his blank stare and the captain, who huddles near Laswell over a game of gin rummy.
"Affirmative." The response comes out faster than he'd like it to, clipped with full-bodied aggression.
"Right..." Licking your lip, you take a moment to match your scrutiny to his. Simon thinks he sees it, the glint your pupils take when you finally catch on. It combats the spite that courses through him, pooling down to fill the weight between his legs. Clever girl - you know him, probably better than he knows himself. "And I'm assuming you need to consult me on something regarding that?"
"Yes." It's all the indication you need.
"Well." You look to Garrick. "I'm sorry to cut this short, mate. Remember to tell me about Serbia some other time."
And Simon doesn't miss the odd look the sergeant gives you, lips curled downwards in an acknowledging humour. He doesn’t like that he’s comfortable enough to give that much. 
But you follow him, smaller footsteps matching his as he finds a secluded hallway near the bathroom. It’s a good thing, he – rather, his internal monologue that sounds too much like your voice – echoes.
"Gonna bring up what's wrong, or will I have to force it out of ya. Hm?"
"Didn' appreciate the way he was lookin' at you, pet."
Your breath hitches, clumped lashes fluttering as you take him in anew. If this were anything else, Simon would credit your grin to a cruel sadism. As it stands, though, he lets it guide the flow of his plastered heart. He's on the right track.
"And how was he looking at me, Si?"
The growl that leaves him is untamed, the feral rip release of a hand grenade. A large hand clamps over your jaw, pressing inwards so your lips pucker out at him. The other pushes your torso to the wall, skimming past the hem of your shirt.
It's new. It's thrilling. It's a wildfire turned eternal damnation, fuelled by a fatal sin that forever trumps envy. Lust, bubbling poison to his insecurity - practical headway into something he's good at. Words were never his forte, but he can fuck you like no one else can, thrusting deeper between your velvet walls than thought possible. It's always been enough to spur breathless awe.
Enough, enough.
"Like he could ever amount to me."
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itstheghostofmypast · 4 months
Text
One More Hour
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Idol San x (f)Reader
Summary: If Choi San was sure about one thing, it was the love that occupied his heart, his love for her. She had become everything he needed, everything he believed in and everything he worshipped, not a thought that went by that wasn't followed by a thought about her. The only problem was, his undying love for her, was a secret known only to her, not the people he had been living with since his teens.
Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst) (simp San, technically they're both hopelessly, dramatically inlove- i do not regret this)
Warnings: None
A/N: Choi San's got me whipped, I just can't. Please remember to show some love by 💗 and reblogs
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With her cheek squished against his cotton-clad chest, she felt his warmth slowly lull her to a state of blissful sleep, their heartbeat synchronized as he hummed a familiar, yet random tune, perhaps it wasn't the tune that was familiar but his melodic voice that could compete with angels.
She had long forgotten the plot of the movie, too engrossed by his presence, arms squeezing his waist, pressing herself closer into his side, his hand reaching to rest on top of her head, fingers caressing through her hair. It had been long since the two had spent time together like this, just enjoying each other's presence, basking in each other's warmth. So, when given the opportunity to take a day off, when everyone else had other things to do, he chose to stay at home alone, unknown to the rest of the members that instead of sleeping in, he had decided to spend the evening with his significant angel. Calling her over with a well-formulated plan, since everyone was leaving and coming in late, he had told her to drop by earlier and he'd drop her off before they arrived back home, meaning the two could spend some time together- both knowing even an eternity spent together wasn't enough.
It's not that he didn't want to tell them or that they wanted to keep it a secret, it's just that company at the dorm was… something noone preferred, possibly due to this being the only place of privacy they had. More importantly, he didn't want to introduce her as just her girlfriend, his brain had been buzzing with a certain idea he wasn't sure if she was comfortable with, which is why he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.
"Sannie…" her hushed voice rang in his ears, earning a hum in return she paused, eyes darting to the wall clock as a sigh escaped her lips, finally causing him to look away from the screen to scan her face, eyes tracing the subtle frown of her brows and pouted lips- "What's wrong-hey" he called out, trying to hold her still as she slipped away, sitting up straight, "Where are you going?" his own pout making its way to his face, mirroring the sad look in her eyes.
"It's six, Sannie, I need to get going before it gets too late," she mumbled, trying to make her way over his sprawled-out legs to the other side of the bed, only for him to gently push her down, ignoring her high pitched, over-dramatic squeak, climbing over her form as her head hit the soft mattress pinning her down, glaring up at him, his grip on her wrists tightened, pushing them down next to head. "Don't go." his whine not even remotely representing the death grip he had on her, his whole body engaging her, face pressed into the skin of her neck, lips pressing against her pulse, stretching into a smirk at the feeling of her breath hitching.
"One more hour," mumbling against her skin he traced his lips up the column of her neck to her jaw, trailing soft kisses to her ear, "I'll drop you home myself, just…one more hour."
"But Sannie- uff" her whine was cut off as the air was pushed out of her lungs, thanks to him putting his entire body weight on top of hers, rubbing his nose against her cheek, "You have been detained, due to the horrendous crime of breaking your boyfriend's heart."
"I'm about to die." wheezing out she tried to pull her hands out of his death grip or at least shove him off, only to fail and whine in defeat. His chest vibrated as a chuckle broke past his lips, proud at how all that time at the gym had paid off, before pulling himself off her, only to hover over her, his hands letting go of her wrists, to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her warm cheeks.
"Just one more hour," he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling at how she scrunched her nose in response.
"Tempt me to stay."
Words that had no malice or implications, in truth she just meant food or a tasty treat, nothing else of any sort but a fact that slipped her mind. A thought and a fact about how the big, shy, feline-eyed man of hers was a pervert. A sinister smirk replaced his easy smile, eyes gleaming at the way her smile had faltered upon the realisation of the innuendo that could have been behind those words- mind you she had not intended for there to be any.
.
"You perv." was all she could manage to huff out, chest heaving after the tedious, tiring yet exhilarating session, staring up at the false ceiling in post haze. His pillow felt cold under her head, her body shivering, more from the buzz of the aftermath than the cold. Laying on his side he watched her features, the way her gaze seemed to be unfocused, lips slightly parted, cheeks puffed out and pink, propping himself up on his elbow, he reached over to caress her cheek, neither concerned about the time anymore.
"Shower?"
"Yes please."
With a quick shower, the two had returned to their usual spot on the bed, after San had oh so kindly changed the sheets. He had forced her to wear his hoodie, only for her to insist he give her something to wear underneath too because it was cold and much to his displeasure he had to give his gym shorts, even after he had explained how he'd keep her legs warm even without anything, only to receive an "I've had enough of your nonsense for one day, Choi."
"What are you doing?" her words broke the comfortable silence, catching him in the act, and stopping him from pulling the covers over the two. She had allowed a cuddling session to commence but never approved of anything more, it was almost nine and she had to go- no, he said he'd drop her off- no, she'd rather go alone to avoid anything else.
"I thought we could rest…for a bit…you know…" clearing his throat he looked around, "After all that fun."
"And who decided to have that 'fun', huh?"
"You. It was actually you." with that he pulled her closer, holding her close as she struggled against him, "Don't worry, I set the alarm, just one more hour." she paused looking up at him, as he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on her forehead, "Just one more hour, I promise."
.
"That was by far the worst film you could have ever forced us to watch." Mingi sighed, opening the door and entering the passageway, kicking his shoes off, followed by the others.
"It was an art film," Hongjoong argued, locking the door behind him, noting how Seonghwa had been neatly stacking everyone's shoes, in order only to pause at a pair of Converse, one that looked too small for any of them.
"It was SHIT, that's what it WAS." Wooyoung called out as he headed towards his room, "A bloody day off and we decide to let him plan it- SAN WAS SO SMART FOR NOT COMING." he stopped by the kitchen, before swinging open the fridge, "I mean I get it, it can be in French or whatever language, but why did the dude become a slug and- this bastard…"
"What's up?" Yunho asked, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, midnight snacks are important. Motioning to Yeosang who nodded, signaling for a serving as well.
Slamming the door closed Wooyoung turned around and glared at them, "The asshole ate my cakeslice!"
"You mean the toothpaste one?"
"Not funny Yunho.Not.F*cking.Funny!"With that he stomped out of the kitchen, probably to confront the criminal.
"What's his deal?" Mingi, who Wooyoung slammed his shoulder into, stumbled into the kitchen, earning an eye-roll from Yuho and a quiet "He's insane" from Yeosang.
"Not mine," Jongho mumbled, staring at the shoes, both his hyungs humming in agreement. Hongjoong looked at the two, "Did San have company over? He never said he would- is he seeing someone?"
"Not that I know of?" Seonghwa mumbled, glancing at Jongho who looked up at the door when they heard the familiar keypad beep. All three stared at the door as the person of conversation walked in, the cap of his hoodie covering most of his beanie-covered head, his bangs peeking out from beneath. Pulling his mask down he placed the plastic bag on the floor to kneel and untie his shoes, only to freeze at the sight of the many shoes before him, slowly glancing up to meet the gaze of the three most judgmental members.
"I can explain." he began only for Seonghwa to snort, "We didn't ask anything yet."
"Listen, she was meant to leave- I- we thought you'd come later-"
"Please tell me, she is not a professional." Hongjoong cut him off, rubbing his temples, they could not and did not, need a scandal of sorts.
"Of course not!" he snapped, before biting back his tongue at the way Hongjoong stared at him, correcting himself, "No… she’s not a fling or a hookup, I swear she's special and I-"
A shriek cut him off, alarming everyone else too, "Shit!" Bolting past them he ran to his room, noting the door was open and from inside he heard, none other than Wooyoung, "I AM SO SORRY! I SWEAR I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!"
"Yah! What did you do??" He growled, stomping in to find his girlfriend crouched on the ground next to the bed and Wooyoung with his eyes covered by the doorframe.
"I CAME HERE TO BEAT YOUR ASS AND THEN I SAW- "He paused at the whimper, "I MEAN I SAW YOU MISS- NOTHING ELSE I SWEAR!"
San crouched down beside her trying to pry her hands away from her face, only for her to glare at him with teary eyes and hiss, "You asshole." Trying to shove him away but he pulled her into his chest, eyeing his shorts that she was wearing on the ground, oh, so she was trying to change her clothes- honestly, he had only gone for 40 minutes. He had woken up as soon as the alarm rang but with his quick reflexes, he turned it off, wanting to spend a few more minutes with her, call him selfish, clingy or obsessed, none of them was wrong. After a few minutes, an idea popped up in his head, which is why he had decided to make a little trip to the bakery nearby, to bring her something.
"So, this is why you didn't come with us today?" Wooyoung finally looked at the two, her face still hidden in his chest, San's hoodie covering her form, her grip on his sweater tightening at the question. This was it, it was all over, she would either be asked to leave or forced to leave his life, they’d take away the only reason why she woke up in the morning, the only reason she still had hope in the future of humanity- call her over dramatic but that was just how much he meant to her. His scent, his body, his soul, if she could she would keep begging the stars to make sure they are bound together for an eternity, surrounded by him, to keep her grounded. Though that was a distant dream now, one that was going to be snatched out of her hands, the very hands that were pulling him even closer, in fear, if he were to be pulled away from her so be it, but she would savour the few seconds she had left with him, to imprint his being in her soul, a memory she could turn to on rainy days. She had hopped he had not picked up on this little anxious act, but how could San be San if he hadn’t, the moment the question had left Wooyoung’s lips, he had felt her grip on him tighten, his heart growing three sizes bigger at this very act of love and want. He had noticed how she was clinging onto him, no longer out of embarrassment or anger, but fear- fear of uncertainty, the fear he knew had accompanied him the first time he had asked her out, the first time he had kissed her, the first time he asked her to become an official couple- that very day he had promised himself to never put her in a position where this fear would become a reality, yet here they were, about to face this demon, together for the last time.
"Good choice. The film was shit."
Her head snapped up to meet Wooyoung’s casual gaze, who shrugged, “Seriously, certain art films should be banned, and I’d rather choose to stay at home with a lady than go out with Hongjoong any day.”
San smiled at his best friend, eyes watering at the note of acceptance and approval, delivered in the most Wooyoung manner, but words of affirmation that both needed to hear. Slowly standing up he pulled her up with him, letting her adjust the oversized hoodie, “Thanks man, I appreciate-”
His words were cut short as Wooyoung raised his hand, “Not you, bastard, I still want to stab you, not only for eating my slice of cake but also for not telling us beforehand you had a guest, now she’ll think I’m a creep.”
“I’m sure she already thinks so.” Yunho peered in from the doorway, smiling at the girl who shied away, moving behind her boyfriend, who glanced up at Yunho, “Also, Hongjoong called for a group meeting and you’re invited too!”
.
With her clothes changed, she sat a good distance from her boyfriend, hands in her lap, the same lap that seemed oh so interesting that she had been staring at it silently while San was trying to explain how they met.
“So, let me get this straight, you have been together for four years and you thought not telling us, your ‘brothers’, would be a good idea?” Hongjoong asked, staring- no- glaring at San.
“Four years, three months and 23 days actually…” he mumbled, before noticing the way she was staring at him, with the most, ‘what the f*ck, dude’ expression she could muster.
“Is he a good boyfriend?”
“Does he treat you well?”
“Are you into dumb dudes?”
“Have your parents met him?”
“Are they scared of his face?”
It was the last question that had her choking on her spit, trying to conceal the laughter, that increased in volume after his whines became more apparent, he knew what they were doing, they were embarrassing him on purpose- a form of payback.
“Yes, yes, I uh…guess so and yes they have met him and no they find him to be very good-looking.” Finally looking up at them she smiled gently, the nervous atmosphere around them, maybe this wasn’t so bad. At his point she was glad that they had accepted her, or rather had approved of their relationship, it was as if a giant boulder had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was free to love him with the certainty of them being together.
He was thrilled to see how everyone had absorbed this, he knew they’d give him hell once she left, but it wasn’t because they disliked her, no, it was due because of his cowardice. It was he who made all of them promise to be transparent, yet here he was keeping one of the most important people in his life a secret, putting strain on the relationship with his lover and his members. The issue was no longer whether they would accept her he had found a loophole for that, he wanted to introduce her to them, really did, but he wasn’t going to introduce her as ‘just his girlfriend’. San slowly moved closer, hands reaching out for hers only to pause and stare at her, “Wait, did you just say I’m dumb?”
“I uh-
“So, did you wait this long to tell us because you were going to propose first and then tell us?” Wooyoung cut her off as she choked on air, her boyfriend too busy trying to pat her back, his face dusted with pink, the tips of his ears burning at the embarrassment of being caught. Whispering to her, “You okay?”
She glanced up at him through her lashes, whispering back coyly, “Were you going to propose?”
“Yeah,” he gave her that million-dollar dimpled smile, eyes turning into crescents, only to turn into cat-like slits with the most serious and judgemental expression, one that sent shivers down her spine. His head whipped in Wooyoung’s direction, “How did you know- oh you bastard.”
Holding the crumb-covered ring in his hand, showing it to everyone, his eyes met his best friend's glare, the plate of a half-eaten cake slice on his lap, an easy smirk making its way to his face, “That’s what you get for eating my slice.”
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