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roseykat · 7 months

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TITLE: Venom Biter

PAIRING: Minho x reader

SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.

A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.

MASTERLIST

“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”

His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier.

He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.

“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.

A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled.

“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer.

“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”

He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.”

“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”

If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.

Though naturally, you became very close with them.

“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”

Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.”

“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.

“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod.

Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you.

There had to be another reason, surely.

But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.

Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to.

In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created.

He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.

But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that.

Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave.

Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place.

You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.

It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions.

Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho.

All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.

"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.

"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.

You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in.

"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.

Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"

“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”

“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question.

“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?”

“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."

Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.

“So why is half my stuff missing?”

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.”

“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest.

“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“

“No you fucking didn’t.”

“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!”

“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”

The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”

You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”

Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”

“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!”

Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.

Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back.

You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him.

He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down.

“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off.

Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been.

His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy.

“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.”

Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means.

The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers.

He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening.

“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.

His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”

Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down.

“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out.

Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.

“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck.

You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him.

“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm.

You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is.

Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;

“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”

Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?”

“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”

A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it.

You curse right at him, ��fuck you.”

His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back.

“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down.

“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him.

Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.

“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.”

Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.

Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back.

“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.

Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts.

Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm.

His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”

At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm.

“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length.

The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.

He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.

The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.

“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.”

You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.”

Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more.

"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.

“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."

"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."

Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."

“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."

He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”

Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.

It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.

But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”

There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.

A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader

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sc0tters · 4 months

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Missing You | Nico Hischeir

summary: when you and Nico haven’t seen each other for a month his teammates pull off the surprise of a lifetime when you both needed it the most.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, swearing, slight exhibitionist kink?

word count: 2.68k

authors note: welcome to the fourth instalment of the 1000 celly, and what I think is our first one with a mclaren driver. I have missed writing for this boy so much! this is also the first smut of 2024 if I'm not mistaken! we also aren't going to acknowledge that this has taken me like four days to write this...

You knew you were in love with Nico.

It was hard not to be, he had been your boyfriend for the last four and a half years and you didn't want anything more. When you were with Mclaren you met him when he was on a trip to Belgium you two met during a party. You had just won the first race of your career but the moment you saw him, the world all of a sudden didn’t matter to you. But by the end of the night you couldn’t get enough of him.

Yet as your careers both got ahead of you and it meant that the only real time you found yourself together was a three week period where you were both off in the summer break. But after this year it felt awkward for you both. You were coming up to the Austin leg of the season and with that it meant that you were back in the states. It seemed that both of you let your careers take hold of your lives, so even though you had a week off you didn’t know if Nico wanted to spend the time with you.

That was compounded by the fact that you guys had a stupid argument, and when Nico ended the call with how he thought it would have been best if you didn’t come in your week off.

Nico had been having a rough week so when the video came up of you and Lando being interviewed by a child, it was the cherry on top of the shit cake. Not even your FaceTime call could have taken him out of it “there you are love!” You smiled as you saw the picture connect “finally found some time away from Lando?” Nico grumbled as he hadn’t even finished the video when you called.

Your face dropped as you furrowed your eyebrows “you okay?” You trailed off as it only seemed to piss him off further “why do you have to go get all flirty with your teammate?” The accusation made you freeze “okay back the fuck up hotshot.” You warned as you raised your hand signaling to him to stop.

It wasn’t often that you two fought but after months without sex - or any variation of it - you were both frustrated “I did not flirt with my teammate or anyone because I’m in love with you!” You were close to hanging up as you glared at him “you’ve got a funny way of showing that.” Nico laughed as he shook his head.

You were doing alright at the moment with your racing, many podiums and even a win in the season that could all but have been called Max’s. But with one DNF and one DNS coming right after each other, you were now stressed “look don’t make your team playing like shit right now my fault.” You grumbled not realizing that the comment had slipped out “if we’re so shit then maybe you shouldn’t come!” With that Nico hung up leaving you with the reflection of your shocked face.

As much as you wanted to apologize for what you had said, you were still upset that he could have ever questioned how you felt about him. It was clear the entire world noted how both of you were currently struggling not only in your sports but also how you just seemed to be out of it. You missed your boyfriend but as fans would have you sign random pieces of devils merch as the announcement of your relationship upon your win in Austria two years ago came with a whole new group of fans.

So when you were sat in the comfort of your hotel room and got the message from Jack asking if you wanted to come to a devs game before the race in Vegas, you knew you couldn’t say no. Not when this was attached.

Jacky Hughes: he misses you, even if he won’t say it

The text made your heart break especially after you watched Nico get injured. The Prudential Center was a place you found comfort in but this time as you sat amongst the crowd all you wanted was him. Nico’s name was proudly stapled on your back as you were in his jersey and a plain black cap as though it was going to be enough to hide your identity.

And it did until the final intermission just as the boys got back on the ice “she still not talking to you?” Nico had called you earlier that morning but as you were on your flight you had no way of answering it “I just miss her.” Timo couldn’t help but place his hand on the boys shoulder as he felt bad.

More than half of the team knew that you were here and Timo decided he could no longer leave Nico in his misery “look up there.” Six rows up sat next to Ellen and Jim Hughes, was you.

Nico felt his jaw drop as he locked eyes with you “hi.” You mouthed like he could even see what you were saying “love you.” Nico did the same thing as you as he placed his hand on his heart as you blew him a kiss.

That final period everyone swore that there was a rocket under Nico’s ass as he scored two different goals, both of which you knew were dedicated to you as the boy would smirk in your direction. It seemed that both of you were ready to finally see each other but as he got one of the stars of the game it left you waiting with Jack “thank you for getting me here.” You smiled at the boy finally taking your cap off as you realized you weren’t hiding anymore.

Jack brushed it off as it was more of a favour to the boys than something for you guys “just hope he behaves.” You had mentioned your apprehensions on coming because of how you two fought “have a feeing we both will.” You nodded as you watched Nico’s head stick out from the crowd “schatzi!” He called out acting as the cue that Jack needed to leave “have fun.” The boy patted your shoulder as he walked off to his parents.

It was only a few seconds until Nico was in front of you “hi.” He smiled noticing how you fidgeted with your rings just like you used to when you guys first started dating “you played well tonight cap.” The nickname had his mind fulling with thoughts, all as inappropriate as the previous.

His hand locked with yours as he clicked his tongue wanting you to stop “I’m sorry I called your team shit.” You were the first to apologize as your voice was soft not wanting his teammates to hear you “let’s go talk in the car.” Nico offered as he slid his arm over your shoulders letting your rest your head against him.

It had been a while since you were in New Jersey as your summer break was spent in Europe “how did you keep the boys quiet?” Nico asked as he locked his hand with yours over the center console “it was actually their idea.” You smiled revealing what the surprise was “Jack said you missed me.” You teased letting out a giggle as the boys cheeks turn red.

Nico couldn’t help but nod as he sighed “you and Lando are good friends and I know you love me.” The hockey player had found himself repeating the apology that he tried so many times to send you “I seriously think you’re on a great team.” You hated how badly you spoke about the team when Nico stood by your side through everything “can we agree we were both wrong?” The air finally felt light as the car came to a stop when the light turned red.

His eyes stared into yours as he swore that there was nowhere that he’d rather be “only if it means that I could kiss you.” Nico mumbled as it made you smile “never need to ask me that.” You shook your head as the boy dropped his head to the side as he let his lips touch yours.

A fire built up in your belly as his hand grazed your cheek finally stopping as he tugged on your hair “Neek.” You moaned feeling him smirk against your lips “I know baby.” Nico sighed having to pull away as the car behind them hooted as the light went green “so fucking happy to have you back my sweet girl.” He mumbled letting his hand rest on your thigh as he smiled.

Being captain of an NHL team came with a bunch of privileges. One that Nico never realized that he was meant to appreciate was an expensive apartment with a view that could have been worth a thousand bucks “this will never get old.” You gasped pressing your fingers against the glass as you watched New Jersey continue to move beneath you “feels great getting to watch you in it.” Nico’s breath fanned against your skin as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

It was as though your entire body melted as his hands gripped at your hips “even in all of this?” You joked looking down to the fact that you were fully clothed “would prefer if you were just in this.” His fingers tugged at the jersey on your shoulders.

All of a sudden an idea popped up in your mind “what’s stopping you pretty boy?” Your tongue darted out of your mouth as you turned to face him “you gonna let me?” Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise as he hooked his fingers in the belt hoops of your pants pulling you closer to him “you get whatever you want my little star.” You cooed pushing yourself onto your tippy toes as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders.

Nico grinned as he swayed your hips against his “fuck I need you schatzi.” His groan was caught as your teeth grazed his lower lip “don’t make me wait.” The fight was now long forgotten as he undid your belt “god you’re soaked.” His eyes blew up at the sight of the wet patch on your panties.

He helped you out of your pants “do something please.” You begged as his eyes had you feeling like he had you fully undressed “put your hands against the window then for me.” Nico moved your hair to the side of your neck.

As you listened to his command his pants grew tight around his boner “looking so good tonight in my jersey.” The boy cooed as he turned his attention to the flesh of your ass squeezing your skin between his fingers “just tonight?” You held back a moan as you wiggled your ass in front of him desperate to get a reaction from the boy.

That behavior was cut as he lay a quick slap to your skin that was quickly followed by a soothing motion “you’ve got such a pretty ass.” He mumbled to himself picking up the band of your panties only to let it snap again as it made you jump “I need you Nico.” You begged letting the cool glass hit your forehead “you have me here schatzi.” His hand palmed your ass.

It made you whimper as your jaw went slack “need you to touch me.” Your tone was sultry as your body tensed “you just a cock hungry girl tonight?” The boy was amused as he took the time to unbuckle his belt as you bit your lip in anticipation “asked you a question pretty girl.” His voice pulled you from your focus as you turned your head to face him “want you baby.” Was all he needed to hear as he dropped his suit pants letting them hit the floor.

Nico missed this view as you practically oozed with anticipation “god I’ve missed this cunt” His fingers traced on the lace on your underwear before he hooked his fingers into the waistband leaving you nude from the waist down “you don’t have to wait much longer pretty boy.” You smirked hearing the gasp that left his lips as you knew that he was palming his cock.

The boy dragged its swollen head over your slit spreading his precum over your clit “don’t tease me please.” You begged as your knuckles turned white as your fingers tensed against the window “how do you think they would feel seeing how needy you are for me?” Nico teased as he kissed your neck as he slid his cock into your cunt “so big.” You gasped as the boy gave you a moment to let your walls stretch as his cock throbbed inside you “moove p-please.” You moaned feeling his hands squeeze your hips.

He felt his head drop back as you whimpered “let yourself scream f’me baby.” Nico nipped at your earlobe as it made you squirm “they can’t hear you from up here.” He reminded you of where you both were “you want people to watch you fuck-me!” You yelled the last part as Nico hit your ass once more.

Nico growled from behind you as he had gotten carried away by the fact that that you were still in his jersey “deserve to see who you belong to.” His possessiveness made you clench your cunt around him “you like it when I call you mine huh?” You nodded as you cried out “belong to you cap.” If Nico didn’t have so much planned for you he would have came on the spot but he used everything in his power to not coat the walls of your cunt in that moment.

The sound of skin slapping echoed in your ears as the sight of you in his jersey made his mouth water “hated thinking about those boys so close to you.” He grunted in your ear as his hands trailed up the inside of the jersey “you just look so fucking good in this.” As your hair was pushed to the side it had his name proudly displayed on your back.

You moaned as you nodded “’s all for you neeks.” You no longer seemed to care that you were against the window as your legs began to shake “I’m so close.” You announced as your hand trailed down to your clit as you began to rub at the sensitive nub.

As the boy realized what you were doing he swatted your hand away as he continued the assault on your clit “be a good girl and hold it f’me.” He clicked his tongue as he wanted to push you just a little bit further “i-i can’t.” You swore that tears were filling up your eyes as you whimpered “just a little bit longer.” He practically pleaded wanting to push you as close to the edge as he could.

Sweat made your hair stick to your skin “I need to-” your plead was short lived as he cut you off “let go for me.” Nico mumbled as his cock throbbed your body shook as you came “fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted as you pressed your head against his shoulder as your cunt clenched around him “there it is pretty girl.” Nico cooed as he kissed your temple as his orgasm came shortly after yours.

Nico watched your chest heaved as he slid his cock out of you “you were so good.” You mumbled turning to face him as you smiled “the night doesn’t have to end schatzi.” Nico cupped your cheeks as he pecked your lips “take me to your room cap.” He didn’t need to hear anymore as he threw you over his shoulder making you squeal as he laughed.

The door to his room shut and with that the rest of the events planned for you two weren’t going to be seen by New Jersey. Because as fun as that was, being tangled in the sheets was far more favourable.

#amber writes fics #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier imagine #ambers 1000 celly #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #hockey oneshots #nhl oneshots

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souliebird · 8 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 5]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

words: 4.4k

It has been one week since you saw Matt Murdock on the evening news, and it feels like it has been a complete whirlwind. First, you reintroduced yourself to him and let him know he was a father, then you had a nice little outing, and to tie it all up, a trip to the doctors to confirm what you already knew.

Matthew Murdock is the father of your daughter.

It is nice to have an official statement from a doctor and now you can start the process of changing Minnie's paperwork to include his name. You have to go to the courthouse to file for an updated birth certificate. Matt has very kindly offered to take that task on for you - he goes to the courthouse often for his job and he knows the ins-and-outs of navigating legal paperwork. You just have to go and drop off the right documentation.

You had a brief call last night, after Minnie had been put down, and decided that you would visit his office today to do just that. You are going to kill two birds with one stone - hand over what needs to be filed and give Matt more time with his daughter.

To your great surprise, your timid little Mouse absolutely adores him. She was not happy to have to be at the doctor's office yesterday and was on the verge of tears before he showed up. Her whole mood shifted, and she had spent the brief time you were in the waiting room and exam room telling Matt about different things around them.

You have a feeling, when you sit down and tell her the truth, she is going to be thrilled.

You told her that you are going to visit Matt at work today, and all morning she has been hunched over her sketchbook making pictures for him while you try to get in some hours at work. Try being the key word, as you've been thoroughly distracted by today's news cycle.

You were half listening to a puff piece about something or other when breaking news flashed across the screen. A neighborhood in Connecticut has been leveled by some sort of explosion, killing hundreds. They don't know if it was an accident or some sort of attack - the epicenter of the blast was a school, so it could potentially be either. You pray it was a freak accident, some faulty pipeline or a weird meteor, because the world doesn't need any more horribleness in it.

The idea that it might have been an attack makes you nervous. You've been through two horrible attacks on New York, and you didn't realize another big event so close to home would shake you so hard.

It scares you that you have to raise Minnie in such a harsh world, where monsters of all kinds are very very real and you don't know who you can rely on. The police and government have been shown to be all kinds of corrupt and people who can shoot laser beams fight each other in the skies.

You end up clocking out and going to sit with Minnie to get yourself to stop your doom-listening. She's got a few drawings scattered around the table and you pick up the one closest to you, smiling at her handy work.

You recognize the shapes as her interpretation of people - oblongs with stick arms and noodle legs. Unknowingly, she's made her first new family portrait. There are three blob-people all holding hands: you suspect you're the big orange one with a smile, Minnie is the little pink one in the middle with what you guess are pigtails, and Matt is the black one with red eyes, who is also holding a stick. To confirm, you ask her.

"Is this one Mister Matt?"

Her head shoots up and a big grin spreads across her face, "Yeah! And that's you and that's me and we're gonna go to the zoo!" There is a little flurry of motion and suddenly you are getting a picture show. She holds up the paper she was working on - there's another family drawing, but this time there's green scribbles all around you and a blue square with zig zags all over it. You guess that is some sort of animal.

"You want to go to the zoo with Mister Matt?" You ask, examining her masterpiece.

"Yeah!" She says, pulling over another picture that you know are her versions of flowers, even if they are all different colors. "And the park!"

"And the park? Wow, that's a lot of things to do. Do you want to ask him if he wants to go to the zoo with us when we see him today?" Minnie eagerly nods at the question and that makes you smile. "Okay, we can invite him to the zoo. When are we going to the zoo?"

The question makes her bounce in excitement, "My birthday!"

You laugh at her enthusiasm and give her a little back rub, "Exactly. We're going to go for your birthday. And get a big cake with whatever you want on it." That makes her a giggly mess and you temporarily forget all the bad things in the world.

You hand her back her drawing before kissing the top of her hair, "How about you finish this one up and we get ready to go see Mister Matt? We can only visit for a little bit, because he's working, but I bet he'll love everything you made him."

Greedy little hands take back the paper and instantly Mouse is hunched back over her zoo scene, purple crayon in hand. You get up and go to make sure that you have everything you need to bring to Matt in order. You are extremely lucky that the doctor has the ability to print out things in Braille, so you don't need to make an extra stop to get things translated.

You debate bringing Matt lunch, but ultimately decide against it. You don't want to push too much too fast, and you think it might be a little weird for his coworkers, to see a random person bring him homemade lunch. You know he hasn't told anyone yet about yourself and Minnie - he had shyly admitted it didn't feel real until the test results were given and you completely get it.

You tidy up until you spy Mouse dropping her crayons into her bucket and cleaning up her drawing area. You let her do her thing, then approach, "Let's put your drawings with the other things we need to give Mister Matt. That way they won't get lost or wrinkled."

She nods like you've just said something very wise and gathers up her stack of papers before handing them over. There's five in total; the three she showed you and two more full of colorful lines. You decide you'll listen in on her explanation to Matt on those two, as you're curious as to what goes on in her little mind.

Once everything is safe and ready to go, it's just a matter of getting shoes on. You go with your sensible sneakers while Minnie opts for her frog themed Wellingtons. The plan is for both of you to walk to the office, and after one final wallet-keys-phone check in your purse, you head out hand-in-hand.

It's mid-morning, so foot traffic is decent, but not heavy - nothing that makes Minnie too uncomfortable. Dark clouds are gathering on the horizon, and it makes you wonder if the rain that has been promised in the forecast will be coming sooner than expected and you are glad this outing is the only one you have planned. Taking Minnie around in the rain is never fun. It always seems like everything becomes more bustling in the rain and trying to navigate that with a crying toddler just makes you want to cry as well.

But the promise of her new favorite person and mild weather has her walking like the born and bred New Yorker she is - a determined little pout with no nonsense steps. No one will be trying to sell her things on the sidewalks once she gets bigger. If she had a different personality, you'd want to teach her to say "Hey, I'm walking here" just to hear a toddler say it.

As you spy the building Matt's office is in, you realize you should have sent him a text to say you were on your way. You did let him know vaguely what time you planned to stop by and he had assured you that they had no appointments - it was catch up on paperwork day - but that didn't mean walk-in clients hadn't come by. You're so close to already being there that you think the gesture is pointless, so you just keep walking until you get to the building.

"This is where we are going," you tell Minnie as you approach. You scoop her up to show her the business directory on the outside of the building. There aren't very many plaques to begin with, so it's easy to find the Nelson, Murdock, and Page one. "That is where Mister Matt works with his friends."

She leans out and feels over the embossed sign, running her fingers over the different letters. "'M'! For Minnie!" She says, pointing out the letter with a big smile.

"Exactly. Mister Matt's last name starts with M, too. That word is his last name - Murdock."

That gets her to turn back to the sign, fingers dancing over the letters, brows knitting with curiosity, "How is it spelled?"

You spell out Murdock for her and Minnie repeats each letter after you. You do this a few times until she's able to say it out loud on her own. You don't know how long she'll retain the information, as spelling isn't really on the board yet, but you're happy she's interested. You set her back down and she makes a beeline up the steps, grabbing and pulling at the door with all her three-year-old strength.

The lobby to the building is sparse, with basically only an elevator and staircase, with a door to what you suspect is a supply closet. "We're going up two staircases," you tell your daughter.

"Two!" She confirms before taking off towards the stairs. You have a brief moment of panic that she's going to zip up both sets faster than you can catch her, but to your great amusement, she grabs a hold of the banister with both hands and pretends to use it like a mountaineering rope to climb the stairs. She even adds little fake huffs and puffs. You follow behind her, ready to catch her if she slips. She doesn't, and when you get to the floor Matt's office is on, she turns to beam at you, clearly proud of herself, "We did it!"

"We did it," you parrot, offering out your hand again. She takes it and you lead her to the correct door. The same plaque that was on the exterior of the building also hangs beside their door and Minnie astutely points to it.

"Murdock!"

"That's right, it says Nelson, Murdock, and Page."

"Can I knock?" Mouse asks, raising her fist to do just that.

You hum, then gently explain, "This is business, which means work. For work, we don't have to knock. We can go in if it is open."

As soon as you say that she's opening the door and marching inside and you quickly follow her.

Matt's law partners, Foggy and Karen, are in the reception area with a man you assume is a client of theirs, talking in hushed annoyed sounding whispers. He radiates intimidation, with a huge black eye and what looks to be a makeshift cast made of duct tape around his right wrist. The three of them turn to look at you and you get the sense Minnie had the right idea in asking if she should knock first.

Your little one quickly latches onto your leg, turning timid in the space of a second and you can't really blame her. Part of you wants to turn and run.

Karen recovers first, breaking away from the two exasperated men to step towards you and going into receptionist mode, "Hi. You were here last week to meet with Matt, right?"

"Uh, yes, that's right. Is he, uh, available?" You ask, feeling like you no longer know how to speak English. The energy in the room is not a pleasant one and you very much feel like you've interrupted something important.

"He's on a call currently but I'll let him know you are here," Karen replies in a voice far kinder than what she uses to address the men behind her a beat later. She turns to them and points to the office you know is not Matt's. "In there. Now."

Foggy throws up his hands, like he's frustrated with whatever is going on and disappears into the other room. The man you don't know doesn't follow, eyes on you and your daughter as Karen crosses the room to knock on Matt's door before opening it and slipping into the office. You quickly decide you are not going to make eye contact with him, instead ducking your head and putting a comforting hand on Minnie's head. She's practically hidden herself behind your legs, clinging to your pants so tightly you fear they might rip.

"I like your boots," the man says into the quietness. You expect him to sound like gravel, but his gruff voice is rather soft, and you get the feeling he understands how to talk to children "My daughter used to have boots like those."

Part of you wants to tell the man to not talk to your daughter, but that would be rude and just because he looks like he's been through the ringer doesn't mean he's a bad man. You decide to let her determine how she wants to proceed.

You feel Minnie poke her head out from where she's hidden herself. At first, you don't think she's going to reply, as you know how she is, but she surprises you yet again by mumbling out, "They're froggies."

"Yeah? You like frogs?"

Mouse somehow tightens her grip, "I like animals." She presses her face against your leg, then admits, a little louder, "we're gonna to the zoo for my birthday."

That makes the man smile, and that changes his whole demeanor. Suddenly he looks friendly and kind and not like he's likely to stab you, "That's a good place to go for your birthday. How old are you gonna be?"

Before she can respond, the door to Matt's office swings open and Karen stalks out, followed by Matt, who seems much less agitated than everyone else. The blonde points to the unknown man, a little scowl on her face, "What did I say?"

The man holds up his hands defensively, stepping away from Karen and towards the office he was previously told to go in, "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'm going." That doesn't seem to help soothe her at all, as she grabs the man by the bicep and frog-marches him to join Foggy, closing the door behind them.

"They didn't make you wait long, did they?" Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him. There is a cut on his lip that wasn't there the last time you saw him, and your instinct is to ask if he is okay, but you don't know if you are at that level with him yet.

So instead, you address his question, "No, no, we just got here."

He motions back to his office, a smile spreading across his face, and you almost forget about the cut, "Come on back and we can review everything."

Minnie lets go of your pants only to take your hand again and you lead her into the other room. As you pass Matt, she looks up at him and gives a tiny wave.

"Hi, Mister Matt."

Matt's shoulders visibly relax at her greeting, and you can't help but start to smile, "Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?"

"Good! I maded you pictures," she says proudly. That causes him to pause as he starts to follow you into his office. You can tell he is surprised by the news - his voice gets a little choked up when he responds.

"You made me some pictures?"

"They are very good pictures," you advise, squeezing Minnie's hand slightly before letting go, "Do you want to tell Mister Matt what you drew for him?" She nods eagerly, so you point to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Go sit like a big girl and you can tell him."

She makes a dash for the chair, and you take the time to address Matt, "I'm sorry, I should have called ahead."

He shakes his head, and as he walks past you to go behind the desk, he reaches out and brushes his hand along your arm. A little shiver runs up your spine at the touch and you tell yourself the action was so he could orient himself. "Not a problem, I knew you were coming. How is everything?"

"Everything is good," you reply, a little shyer than you intend to. "I, uh, have everything for you. Is there anything else I need to fill out?"

Matt shakes his head, "Just a signature and date. You've done all the work for me already. I don't think I've ever had to file where I don't need to actually do anything but sign the document. It's a refreshing change."

"Do you know how long it will take to process?" You ask as you move to join Minnie in sitting. "The website gave multiple timelines and I just want to be realistic."

Matt takes his seat with a cocky grin, "Not long at all, I know a few judges I can ask to push it through."

You flush at the idea of him asking a favor to a judge on your account, "That's not necessary, Matt, I don't mind waiting."

He shakes his head, getting that soft look again, "I don't want to wait. I want it to be official in the eyes of the government."

His words make you feel even warmer, and you distract yourself by pulling the file with all the paperwork out of your purse and pass it over to him. "Minnie's additions are at the bottom of the stack. The last five pages"

His fingers twitch slightly, and you wonder if he wants to flip right to those. You get your answer quickly.

"Minnie, is it okay if I go over the paperwork with your mom before you tell me about your pictures?"

"It's okay!" She replies, her voice much more cheerful now that you are alone with Matt. "Do you needs help?"

Her sweetness makes Matt smile more and he shakes his head, "Not right now, sweetheart. I need to read, and I can do that with my fingers, but after that you can help with some other things."

"Okay," she says happily, kicking her feet a little bit.

You catch her attention and motion to your purse, "Do you want a toy while you wait?"

She shakes her head and beams up at you, "No thank you, I'm a big girl!"

Both you and Matt chuckle at her declaration and he moves to open the file.

"There's multiple copies of everything," you tell him as you move onto business, "One printed text and one in Braille for the courts and the same for you. I have the same at home, as well. They are bundled in packets. The court papers are on top, Braille first."

He thanks you then begins to read the forms. Mouse sits up straighter in her chair to try and see what he is doing. She can just peek over the edge, and she watches in fascination as his fingers move over the pages. You wait quietly, not wanting to distract in any way.

"Everything appears to be in order. We will just need a signature," Matt says after a minute.

"Should I do that now?" You ask. The response is him offering you a pen, so you lean in to sign the various forms. As you set each document aside, Matt adds his own signature. It is silly how giddy you feel just having the forms finally completed. You don't know how long you've had just blank copies, waiting to be filed.

"And done," Matt says with a final flick of his pen on the last page. "I'm going to the courthouse on Tuesday, so I'll get it processed then. I'll push to get an updated certificate as quickly as possible."

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling like a crazy person. This isn't some dream or far off fantasy. Matt isn't just saying he wants to be Minnie's father. He is following through, with urgency. This is something he wants and it's almost surreal for you - you are so used to promises being broken and no one being on the same page as you in your desires. Even if this is all for Minnie and not for you, it is still on the edge of overwhelming for you.

You never thought you'd be so happy over paperwork.

"Thank you, Matt," you whisper, leaning back into your seat to sit properly.

Immediately, Minnie parrots you, thanking Matt even though she has no idea what is going on.

"No, thank you. Thank you both," he says, and you wonder if he is also holding back from smiling. He gathers the papers and sets them aside before running his fingers over the folder you gave him and addressing his daughter. "Okay, sweetheart. Do you want to come tell me what you drew?"

You expect Minnie to stand on the chair and even prepare yourself to balance her, but that does not happen. She hops down and scurries around the desk to be at Matt's side and a moment later, he is pushing his chair back and she is climbing up into his lap. Embarrassment rushes through you - she's only ever behaved like this with you. She actually used to fuss and cry if anyone else tried to hold her. You haven't seen her sit in anyone else's lap since she had a say in who gets to hold her.

"Minnie!" You scold but Matt quickly shakes his head as he helps her up.

"It's okay, I don't mind," he tells you even though he looks completely shocked. If he wasn't her father, you wouldn't allow this, especially with someone so new to her, but he is her father, even if she doesn't know, so you don't tell her to get down.

Instead, you give a stern frown, "Minnie, you still need to ask before climbing on anyone, okay? Can you apologize?"

Your little girl nods, then looks up at him, "I'm sorry, Mister Matt."

"It's okay, sweetheart. Like I said, I don't mind, but your Mommy is right, and you should ask so I know you are there. Next time, you'll know. Now, your Mommy said there were five pictures. Which do you want to start with?" He asks, scooting his chair back to the desk while wrapping one arm around Minnie's waist to keep her secure.

Once she's able to, she leans in and picks up the first drawing in the stack. It is the family portrait, and you quickly get your phone out so you can record this interaction as Minnie lays out the picture. She then takes Matt's free hand and guides it to the paper before letting go to point at the circle that represents him.

"This is you," she tells him. He quickly finds where she is pointing and begins to trace the figure.

"That's me?" And there is definitely more than a little bit of emotion in his voice.

"Uh-huh, and that is me and Mommy and we're gonna go to see the duckies. Mommy said we can go again. But we're gonna get ice cream too. And a balloon," she says, moving her little finger all over the page.

You watch Matt's finger follow hers - first over the doodle of himself, then Minnie's, and finally yours. Then, he traces back to the center figure. "We're holding hands?" He asks tentatively.

"Yup!" She answers, popping the p. "Mommy says we gotta hold hands if we go outside."

Matt licks his lips a little and you see his muscles flex under his jacket as he holds Minnie a little more firmly to his chest, like he doesn't want to let go of her. "That's a good rule."

"Mommy makes good rules," your little one replies wisely. That makes your ego sing a little. Mouse has always been good at doing what she's told, and you are proud that she understands your rules keep her safe.

Before she moves onto the next picture, you gently prompt her. "Sweetie, was there something you wanted to ask Mister Matt?"

Matt's head jerks up at that, looking right to you with brows slightly knit. Minnie bounces in his lap just a little, squirming so she can turn to look up at him, "I'm gonna go to the zoo! For my birthday! Do you wanna go?"

His lips part in surprise at the question and before you know it, he has both his arms wrapped around Mouse, hugging her to him. She instantly responds, looping her little arms around his neck and squeezing back. He rests his cheek against her head, and you see him slightly rock her from side to side. "I would love to go with you to the zoo, sweetheart."

Minnie giggles into his neck and you one hundred percent know that the transition to suddenly having two parents is not going to be hard for her at all. It might be confusing because Matt won't be living with you, but you have never seen her so comfortable with someone who isn't you. You know it's not just because he gave her a toy. They just click together so well.

You switch from video to your camera so you can sneak as many pictures as you can of Matt and Minnie hugging. They've completely forgotten about you and that is a-okay.

In this moment, nothing else matters to you - not the strange man in the other office or the devastation a few states over or all the other trivial things that nag you and make your stomach turn.

Your world is right in front of you and for the first time in a very, very long time, you really, truly believe everything is going to be just fine.

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then I met you #theres plot hints

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bloatedandalone04 · 3 months

Text

No One Else

➪the one where you throw a housewarming party, and a.j. isn’t fond of all the guys staring at you in his new living room.

Warnings: this man is such a dom i swear, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, swearing, pda, jealous a.j., alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 3.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

A.J. hated house parties. He would much rather go out to the club or a bar as he felt like the parties he threw at his apartment got too crowded too quickly.

But he was doing this for you.

About three months ago A.J. asked you to move in with him. He loved you more than anything else and he wanted you around him all the time, and you felt the same way. You agreed and moved out of your small loft and into his massive condo across the city.

While you were used to the city life, you were a bit overwhelmed since he was in the middle of it all. It was loud and chaotic whenever you opened the sliding door of the balcony, and the lights kept you up at night. You didn’t say anything about it, not wanting to give A.J. any ideas, but it wasn’t long until he discovered your distaste for this side of the city.

It was a big difference to where you lived previously, and he felt guilty about the sudden change.

So he offered to move away from all of it, to give up the city life he had been living in for around twelve years for a cute and modern house in a neighborhood just outside the city.

He let you have full control over pretty much everything in the house; from the appliances in the kitchen to the paint color in the living room. A.J. gave you his credit card and told you to go crazy, and you really took his words and ran with them.

You bought countless pieces of furniture and when they arrived at the home, A.J. spent a good day and a half building them with Jake.

Now, a full week after settling into the new place, you decided to throw a house party to really break it in.

The house was a lot bigger than his apartment, so it wasn’t as crowded, but he still hated having so many people in his personal space. But A.J. knew it was all worth it when he caught your eye from across the living room and saw the way your lips turned upwards into a happy smile.

He really would do anything for you without an ounce of hesitation.

A.J. crossed the room after wrapping up his conversation with Jesse, and his hands found their home on your waist as he stood behind you. He knew you were smiling as you listened to the story Rachel was telling you, and that smile only grew when he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“You two are so cute, seriously,” Rachel beamed, finishing off her drink with a smile. “I can confidently say you were made for each other.”

“Just like you and Jake,” came your sweet reply and A.J. felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards as you sipped on your wine.

“Speaking of,” he trailed off, lifting his head and looking around the packed room. “Where is your fiancé, Rach?”

Rachel furrowed her brows as she, too, looked around the room. “I’m not sure, actually,” she answered. “Let me know if you find him, and let me know if he looks like he’s had too much to drink. If he’s plastered, tell him he’s sleeping on the couch when we get home.”

A.J. laughed as he kissed the side of your neck before moving away from you. “Will do,”

“Come find me later,” you requested in a soft voice, smiling at him afterwards. “I shouldn’t miss you this much in our own house.”

A.J. held back a groan as he moved towards you again and firmly gripped your jaw, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. You grin against his lips and tangle your free hand in his hair, his lack of hat tonight making it very easy. “Damn, baby,” he muttered as he pulled away and you ran the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. “You make a guy not want to leave.”

You grin at him and shrug. “Hurry back, Jay,”

He bit his lip as he nodded and turned to go seek out his best friend. He found Jake in the kitchen talking to John, and they both looked like they were on the verge of being wasted. “A.J.! Hey, buddy!” Jake greeted as the tattooed man entered the room. “This is a nice place you got here.”

“Yeah, man, I like how secluded it is,” John added as he looked around the room. “You buy it with that two million we snagged from those transport trucks?” He asked loudly and A.J. had to deliver a quick slap to his shoulder to stop John from exposing the source of his income to all his new neighbors.

And there were a lot of them.

The neighborhood you were now living in was well populated, and you had taken it upon yourself to invite all of them to the party in hopes to get to know them. A.J. wasn’t very fond of strangers in his house, but it was just another thing he forced himself to deal with since he was so in love with you.

“Keep your voice down,” A.J. muttered as John gave him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, man,” he laughed. “Your new neighbors were very generous with their housewarming gifts.” John held up the bottle of champagne with a bow tied around it, and A.J. just shook his head.

“Just try not to tell the guests all our secrets, yeah?”

John nodded and gave him a salute before wandering off towards the dining room where Gordon was. “A.J., buddy, I never thought I’d see you get out of the city, man,” Jake said as he leaned against the counter with a beer in his hand.

“You and me both,” he murmured as he took the half empty bottle from Jake.

“The things we do for the women we love, huh?” Jake asked as he moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Speaking of, Rachel told me that if I saw you and you were drunk, I have to tell you that you’re sleeping on the couch,” A.J. informed the tipsy man, who just laughed.

“She might say that, but she can’t sleep without me, man, I’m like her personal pillow,”

A.J. shook his head and set the bottle on top of the fridge, knowing damn well that Jake could easily reach it. “Good thing she’s marrying you then,”

“Hey, when are you and your girl getting married?” Jake asked as he grabbed a handful of chips and ate them all at once. “You’ve been together about as long as Rachel and I have, when are you gonna ask her the question?”

“I don’t know, man,” A.J. answered as he avoided the crumbs flying out of Jake’s mouth with each word he said. “Soon.”

“You have the ring, don’t you?”

A.J. nodded and Jake grabbed one of the cookies off the dessert plate on the table. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the right time,”

Jake leaned back just as Rachel entered the kitchen and made her way over to the two guys. “Don’t wait too long, buddy,” he advised as Rachel moved to stand next to him. “Putting a ring on this one’s finger was the best decision I ever made.” He wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s waist as he smiled up at her.

Rachel laughed as she draped her arm around Jake’s shoulders. “You’re planning on proposing?” She asked with excitement lacing her voice. “Do it soon, then Y/n/n and I can be engaged at the same time. Ooh, maybe a double wedding!”

A.J. shook his head with a smile as he looked towards the doorway, expecting to see you enter at any second since Rachel was now in here. When you didn’t, he glanced at your best friend and asked, “Where is she, anyway? You leave her to get lost in her own house?”

Rachel playfully rolled her eyes. “No, I was just making sure this guy was behaving,” she nudged Jake, who just continued smiling up at her. “Last I saw her, she was talking to the next door neighbor who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off her all night.”

A.J.’s smile faded at that and he left the kitchen without saying another word. Rachel and Jake’s conversation faded into the background as he entered the living room again, and instead of finding you where he left you by the sliding door, you were by the couch and talking to some dark haired guy.

While he knew he had no reason at all to be jealous, seeing as this was his own fucking living room he shared with you, A.J. still didn’t like seeing you around guys who clearly just wanted to sleep with you.

And this guy did a very bad job at hiding the fact that he wanted to fuck you.

A.J. made his way over to you, receiving a slap on his shoulder from Jesse as he did so. You wanted him to find you later, and he was more than ready to take you up on that offer now.

Your eyes drifted from the brunet and met A.J.’s, and a smile formed on your lips, instantly replacing the barely hidden look of boredom on your face.

The guy probably thought you were smiling at him, but A.J. sorted him out pretty quickly as he stepped around the stranger and wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side and he didn’t even bother glancing at the guy’s face before he was pressing a deep kiss to your mouth.

You return it immediately and lean into his touch when he lifts his free hand up to grip your jaw and angle your head, and you willingly give him full control of the kiss. He slowly pulls away and smirks at the way you keep your eyes closed for a few more seconds before he looks over at the guy, who did not look happy at all. “New friend, baby?” He asked, making you open your eyes and look over as well.

“Um, this is….Dean?” You question and A.J. held back a laugh at the offended look Dean gave you. “He’s our new neighbor, Jay.”

“Nice to meet you,” A.J. said and ignored Dean’s outstretched hand as he turned back to you and leaned in close. “Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” He asked under his breath as Dean stood awkwardly next to him.

Your eyes widen and you let out a startled laugh. “A.J,” you gasp quietly and look over at your neighbor with a blush.

A.J. glanced over at him, too, before beginning to pull you towards the half-bath next to the hallway that led to yours and his room. You feebly waved at Dean as A.J. made a show of guiding you into the bathroom, a smug smirk on his lips when he saw Dean’s glare.

Once he entered the bathroom as well, he closed the door and locked it before pushing you up against it. “I gotta say, baby,” he murmured as his hands pulled up the black material of your dress. “I’m not a big fan of our new neighbors.”

You lean your head back against the door as he bunches your dress around your hips and teased your clit through the thin material of your panties. “Why? Not friendly enough?”

A.J. grunted as he pushed the lace material down your legs and let it drop to the tiled floor. “They’re too friendly,” he answered as he picked you up and set you down on the marbled countertop.

You squeal at the cold surface against your burning skin and cling onto his shoulders. “Fuck, A.J.,” you mumble and tug at his suspenders. “What’s gotten into you? You were fine when you left to go find Jake.”

He would never admit that he was jealous of that prick in his living room, so he shrugged and kissed along your shoulders. “Nothings gotten into me,” he said under his breath. “But hopefully I can get into you.”

You moan loudly, despite being able to clearly hear the party guests outside the door. “Well, when you say it like that,” you tease and drop your hands to the button on his dress pants. “But we have to be quick, Jay. We’re hosting right now.”

“Fuck them,” he rasped as he reached his hand in between your bodies and sunk his index and middle fingers into your heat. “Fuck everyone out there, baby. We’re in our house. I should take you back out there and fuck you right on that couch.”

You moan at his dirty words and run your hands through his hair, successfully making it messy. No one else got that privilege as he usually spent a good ten minutes doing his hair - just to throw a hat over it, but he would happily let you mess it up whenever you wanted. “You’d actually do it, too,”

A.J. smirked at you as he worked you open with his fingers. “I would,” he agreed as he looked down. “You’re dripping, baby. Did the teaser I gave you in front of Dean turn you on that much?”

“That and you,” came your muffled answer as you buried your face against the side of his neck. “Are you really going to fuck me in the bathroom at a party?”

“Yes,” he answered as you unzipped his pants. “Unless you feel like waiting until everyone leaves and I can fuck you all over the house. Fair warning, though, I don’t think this party is dying any time soon.”

You moan and lift your head. “Get to it, then,” you murmur and pull him free. A.J. presses his lips to yours at the same time he enters you with a single thrust, and the feeling has you grasping onto his shirt tightly. “Fuck. Is this how you did it in the Ivy League? Fucking random girls in bathrooms during parties?”

“Had to practice somehow. And you’re not just a random girl,” he said back and you laughed before moaning rather loudly as he began to roughly fuck into you. You slap one hand over your mouth with wide eyes and he smirks. “Can’t be quiet, huh, baby?”

You shake your head as you lean back against the mirror. “No,” you agree and tug on his hair with your other hand. “I can’t be quiet when it comes to you, Jay. You make me feel so good.”

A.J. groaned when you clenched around him, and he knew he wasn’t much better. One of the perks of living in an actual house and not an apartment, was that you and he could be as loud as you wanted.

Not that the thin walls of your last apartment stopped you from being loud. You’d received countless noise complaints, and they all were ignored by A.J., who just fucked you harder until the bed slammed against the wall with each thrust.

It was like how he was fucking into you now.

Your body moved further and further back on the counter until you had to place your hand flat against the marble, accidentally knocking over the bottle of soap in the process and making it fall to the floor. “Jesus,” you gasped as his hips rocked into yours.

A.J. grunted and kept one hand on your hip while his other reached up to grip the side of your face. “God, you’re tight,” he rasped, making you smirk as you wrap your legs tighter around him.

The smirk was promptly wiped from your face as he began roughly slamming into you, loud moans emitting from your mouth with each thrust. “Oh, my God,” you cried as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands bunching up his shirt tightly. “Fuck yes, Jay.”

A.J. groaned and pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue poking out and parting your lips, coating them in a layer of his spit. “Feel good, princess?” He teasingly asked and you nod uncontrollably.

“Feels so good,” you answer, clinging onto him as you feel your release approaching embarrassingly fast. “So fucking good.”

He grunted, kissing all over your neck as you squeezed him over and over again. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he praised, reaching behind you to pull on your hair.

You squeal a bit, hiking your body closer to his as you hear the sounds of the party-goers right outside the door. “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you warned loudly, no longer caring about the guests hearing you at this point.

“Already?” He mocked, pulling at your bottom lip with his thumb. “You needed me just as badly as I needed you, huh?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your body involuntarily bucking forward to meet his thrusts. “Oh, my fucking God, yes, please please please.”

A.J. gripped your waist in both hands, his still clothed thighs hitting the backs of yours as you moaned loudly in the surprisingly big half-bath.

You grip his back and pull his chest against yours as you feel your release take over. “Oh, God,” you cried out as you clamped impossibly tight around him. “I’m coming.”

A.J. cursed under his breath as he felt your walls pulse around him before a warmth took him over. “There you go, baby. Give it to me,” he muttered, and your whines increased in volume. “Good girl.” He praised, kissing the skin under your ear as you writhed against him.

“Are you…” you trailed off as you slumped against his chest, his hips still lazily rocking into yours. “Are you gonna come, too?”

A.J. let out a surprised moan at your dirty question and how sweetly you asked it. He leaned in and kissed you hard, using his hand to angle your head so he had better access to your mouth. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “I want it so bad.”

His eyes shut tightly as he buried his face against the side of your neck. “I’ll come for you,” he promised, feeling his stomach tighten with each slow thrust he gave. “I always will.”

You whine and pull him impossibly close as he came hard, his hips fucking his release deeper and deeper into you as he groaned loudly.

When he pulls away, you smile shyly at him as you smooth out his shirt with a quiet laugh. “Is it all out of your system now?”

“Is what all out of my system?” He asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth. “My unhealthy need to fuck you all over our new house? No, that won’t be out of my system for quite a while.”

You laugh then bite your lip as he pulls out of you, then he reaches down to run two fingers through your sensitive core. He collects his release onto his digits before lifting his hand again, and you lean in to wrap your mouth around them, hearing him grunt deeply as you clean himself off his fingers. “Tasty,” you smirk once you pull away.

A.J. had to hold off on taking you right then and there as he felt himself grow a bit hard again. Instead, he cleaned you up, smoothed out your outfit and finished it off with a kiss to your lips. “You ready to go back out there?” He asked and you nodded. “Don’t be surprised when we get some dirty looks, because I think every single person out there knows what we did in here.”

You shrug, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Who cares? It’s our house,” you point out and pull open the door. “Do me a favor and don’t fix your hair, okay?”

Then you were walking out of the bathroom, leaving A.J. to look at himself in the mirror with a laugh as he took notice of his post-sex hair. If it wasn’t obvious enough what you and he just got finished doing, his messy hair will definitely get the message across.

And that was exactly why he left it as it is before following after you.

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darlingdarkly · 4 months

Text

New Year, New You Part 3

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.7k Words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes

Part 2, 4

The next day is what you can only describe as controlled chaos. The office is a whirlwind of papers, people and pieces of presentation sent to and fro across the building. Maureen in marketing needs approval from Mark in finance who’s busy balancing the budget for this year and the spreadsheets from last year. Sharon has been on the phone for Three. Whole. Hours. trying to make sure the prototypes will be ready before noon tomorrow.

Tom called in sick and Mrs. Magna told Nancy to tell him that if he doesn’t show up today to never show up again. Period. That was ensued by a thirty minute yelling match between Nancy and Tom that ended when you gently took the phone from Nancy’s white-knuckle grip and told Tom if he didn’t come in you’d personally shove your foot up his ass.

Tom was in the office fifteen minutes later, quarantined in the conference room with his laptop, a growing mountain of crumbled Kleenex and very, very, grumpy. The day dragged on and on and while people who had finished with their portion of the project headed home for the day you stayed, even after your piece of the pie was secure, because at the end of it all you knew it fell to Nancy to review and review and review the final product for any mistakes and you weren’t about to let her do it alone.

As you worked, you caught up with each other, not having time to really talk since the white elephant party over a week ago. “So how was break?” You asked as you filed away two early projection models in their appropriate folders. She sat cross legged in front of you, stapling documents together. “It was nice, mom came this year, and I thought it would be a lot more barbaric but it actually was very civil. I'm proud of them for working out their differences. The way it went down last year I was still cleaning fruit cake off my ceiling a month later, remember?”

You giggled together because you did remember. That was Nancy’s Christmas reunion debacle from the previous year. You hadn’t been there but you did drop by to help her clean up and have a little wine. A bottle and a half in you both were too drunk and giggly to climb the ladder and scrap the candied fruit and cake from the ceiling.

“What about you? Did you go see your parents?” You smiled and answered. “Yeah they’re doing good, they said to tell you hello by the way. My brother too.” And the side eye she gave you was hilarious and aggravated all in one. “What? He still asks about you.” She rolled her eyes and restacked the papers in her hands. “Well he can stop.” You laughed as she shook her head. “He’s still got a crush on me after all this time.”

“Yes! He’s obsessed! I don’t know why you won’t go for him, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone anyways.” She scoffed at you. “I am not dating your brother. Not after what he did.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Nance, you can’t still be on that.” She looked offended. “After we both nearly drowned at the lake that summer. You remember, he practically pulled me under!”

You laughed remembering. “He was trying to save you!” She laughed with you and pushed on your arm. “Yeah well he sucked at it. We both nearly died.” You both were in fits of giggles at this point, papers nearly forgotten in the glow of your memories. “Besides, how do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

Your eyebrows raised at this. “Ohhh, something to confess?” She looked up from her work, eyes sparkling. “You know the guy that moved in across the hall?” You did. You both had run into him one day coming back to her place for a drink after a Saturday outing together. “You mean Mr. Dark Eyes, the one who came over and fixed your window for you?”

She practically beamed. “That’s the one. He asked me out for drinks tomorrow night.” You waggled your eyebrows at her and she laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.” It was your turn to give her an accusatory look. “It’s absolutely like that Nancy! He’s into you. I can see it! I think you should go for it, I’m glad for you, it’s time you got a little action.”

She picked up the stack she’d finished stapling and set it to the side, beginning another. “You and I both. I mean it’s not like you’ve been seeing anyone either.” You paused, thinking of Johnny. You wouldn’t call it seeing someone, but there was something between the two of you, it was momentary, your lapse in response but enough for her to notice and immediately catch on.

“Oh my god, wait. You have been seeing someone haven’t you?” You immediately refuse. “No.” “Bullshit.” “Seriously! It’s nothing.” And she wouldn’t stop until she’d pried it out of you so you began recounting your encounter at the gym, leaving nothing out.

“You’re fucking with me.” You shake your head. “No, I’m serious. Just like I told you.” She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “He legit did all that?” You nodded and she smiled. “I think you should go for it.” Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious?” She nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s totally into you. All that weird shit just means he’s obsessed. Is he hot?”

You immediately nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s strong and tan. He’s got this pretty white smile and dark hair. I knew he was a personal trainer the minute I saw him.” She hummed approval. “Definitely go for it.” You laughed nervously. “I don’t know, we'll see where it goes.”

The sun had long descended past the horizon, but you had it done. Two hundred and fifteen pages of statistics and sales projections that concluded the project. You both cleaned up the papers and put everything away. She turned to you when the elevator had stopped at the ground floor and the cold night air chilled you as the doors opened. “Wanna go out for a drink, I know I sure could use one.”

You shook your head. “I’m beat, I’m going home, eating and sliding into bed.” She nodded in understanding. “Don’t forget your homework.” She winked at you mischievously and giggled as you let out a frustrated groan. “I’m thinking about skipping it.” She shook her head. “Better not, with what you’ve told me so far it seems like there’d be consequences.” And she was right, who knew what kind of thing he’d cook up if you slacked out on it. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You find yourself in front of your door, mentally exhausted. You slide the key in the lock and feel it give as you push the door open and walk into the cool interior of your home. Flipping the lights on you drop your purse and jacket on the couch and head for the kitchen. It’s been a long day and you hadn’t even had a chance to go grocery shopping this week but you’re pretty sure you at least had a couple of eggs left in the fridge.

If all you could manage was a few scrambled eggs before you did your homework and fell into bed then so be it. You’d eat better tomorrow. You open the door on the fridge and are immediately taken aback by what you see. It’s fully stocked. There’s a whole pack of water bottles on the bottom shelf of your fridge. The chiller drawer is packed with spinach, sweet peppers, broccoli and carrots. There’s deli meat and boneless skinless chicken breasts, a few types of cheese and a new gallon of milk. Individual packs of yogurt and gatorades in all different flavors.

You open the door on your freezer to find a few more frozen packs of chicken breasts, pounds of lean hamburger meat and sausage. Rushing to the cabinets you pull them open and find low carb tortilla wraps and bread, granola bars and some kind of chips called “Veggie Straws” that you’ve always seen on the shelf but never tried.

As you turn around you finally notice the bowl of fruit on your counter. How could you have overlooked it walking in? Bananas and apples and oranges, all ripe and fresh. You didn’t do this. Either you were losing your mind and key moments in your life we’re missing like puzzle pieces lost or someone had been in your house.

Your eyes widen, breath hitched. They could still be in the house. You turn around and survey the space around you, the dark comforting tone had a queer eerie feeling setting in around the edges. The corners and shadows leering with the unknown. Nothing looked out of place or was missing, but what kind of a person came into a home to stock the fridge and leave without taking anything?

You checked the doors, the windows, no broken locks or pried open hinges, no immediate signs of forced entry. Your shoulders stiffened when the realization hits you, it takes your overworked mind a moment to remember but there it was. Your gym bag, you were nearly certain you had closed it but it was open when you opened your locker to change. Johnny.

You grabbed your purse and pulled your phone out, flicking through your contacts and hovering over his name. You momentarily waver between calling him or the police. What were you going to say? Yes officer, my home has been broken into. Did they take anything? Well, no. The opposite really. What did they leave? Groceries. Lots of them, stocked my whole kitchen with fresh meats, veggies and fruit. Yeah, we’ll get right on catching the ever elusive grocery fairy, ma’am. Top priority, don't you worry.

You started the call and he answered on the second ring, tone light and cheery with enthusiasm. “Bonnie! How was work?” You skip the pleasantries. “Do you have something to tell me, Johnny?” And you don’t know why you expected him to take the matter seriously.

“Aye lass, I did think about ye all day, sometimes with mah cock in hand, how’d ye know?” His response momentarily scatters your thoughts to the wind but you take hold of them once more and push on. “What? No! Johnny, have you been in my house?” He laughs, actually laughs. “Oh that. Yeah, did you check the fridge?”

Your brow furrowed in frustration, of course he doesn’t see it as an intrusion instead of some kind of regular thing. “Johnny, how did you get into my house?” You sit down in a chair and what he says makes you bolt upright again. “Easy, hen. I just made a key.” You’re pacing now. “You made a key to my house! How?”

And he says it casually like he’s explaining how to tie a shoe or giving someone easy directions. “I went into yer bag, found yer keys, pressed it into a mold and had one made. Simple really.”

“You can’t do that Johnny.” He interrupts. “S’alright Bonnie, I’m yer personal trainer.” There it is again. That phrase, like it’s the simplest thing to understand in the world, normal even. He’d picked you out, told you he was going to train you, you didn’t exactly protest and now anything was fair game, including crossing every single kind of boundary you could have and making copies of the keys to your home so he can come and go as he pleases.

“Besides, yer fridge was empty. What were ye gonna have fer dinner?”

“None of your business. And what if I don’t know how to cook? Did you think about that Johnny?” And this seems to be the first real thing to give him pause. “Yer right, lass. I didn’t even think about that. I’m about five minutes away, I’ll be right over.” Your eyes widen in panic. “No Johnny! Don’t come over!”

“S’alright lass, it’s really no trouble. I’ll be right there.” The last thing you needed was him showing up at the door. “No! Johnny I’m serious, don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and it feels long, you almost expect a knock at the door, even though he couldn’t possibly be there that fast, unless of course he was lying about being five minutes away and was actually right outside the whole time, or even in the house still.

“Alright. I won’t come over on one condition.” You grab for it, ready to agree to anything that will keep him from showing up. “Yes, anything.”

“I want ye tae FaceTime me while ye do yer homework.” And you’re almost relieved with the simplicity of it, but there was an underlying unease that you couldn’t shake, what was he up to? You answer slowly when you can’t come up with a good reason to say no. “Ok, I’ll call you back.”

But before you can hang up he interjects. “No. Don’t hang up, talk to me.”

“Talk to you? About what Johnny?” You start to look around the kitchen for what you’re gonna have, if he’s making you talk to him the whole way through it then it’s better to get started now. “For starters, How yer day was.”

It starts slow, your relinquishing of the accounts of the day, but as time went on and you kept talking it all just came to the surface. The stress of the day, the brutal meticulousness of it, and he made it so easy, he was so attentive, listening and responding, asking questions and letting you vent it. He even laughed so hard when you told him about threatening Tom that you couldn’t help but laugh with him, bent over in front of the stove as you let the stress bleed out of you.

It felt good, right even, like something you'd been missing out on, a key component you hadn't realized you’d been without for so long. And you found a peculiar twinge of adoration for him in the bottom of your heart, like tea leaves spelling out your heart's true desires, whether you like what you read in them or not, there they were.

You sat down to eat and he told you about his day as you ate. It was much more appetizing than a plate of scrambled eggs, you had to admit. You nearly choke on a cherry tomato when he tells you he missed you. “It’s only been a day since you last saw me Johnny, you can’t miss me.” And is there longing in his voice, or just your tired mind playing tricks again? “Aye, but I did.”

There’s a momentary pause, a space of uninterrupted silence, pregnant with things unsaid. You finally break it. “Well, I’ve got dishes and then I’ll do my homework.” What he says next makes you smile, and you’re glad he’s not able to see it. “How will I know ye’ll call me back?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll call you. If not, you'll be pounding at my door, won’t you?” You can hear the smile in his response. “Better believe it, lass. Call me.” And he hangs up.

You quickly finish up your dishes, change into something comfortable, just a tank top and shorts, and prop your phone up. Pressing the call button on Johnny’s name in the contact list you see the screen go black as you wait for him to pick up. Your image is reflected back at you in a little square in the top right of the screen and you use the time to adjust your hair and pull the hem of your shorts down lower to cover more of your thighs.

His face pops into frame and he’s smiling ear to ear and you ignore the eruption of goosebumps on your arms when you see it. “Hi, lass” You back away from the screen and into the open space you’ve made in your living room to do your exercises. “Hi Johnny.”

“God yer beautiful.” And you feel your cheeks heating under his compliment. “Stop it, Johnny. Let’s crack on.” You see him sit back on his bed as he responds. “Alright lass. Start.” So you do, starting with the sit ups. You don’t have him there to hold your feet so you slide them under the couch to hold you steady as you do the exercise. He talks you through it, counting for you so you can focus on just your movements, keeping track of your pauses in between sets so they’re evenly spaced and consistent.

“Good lass, now yer toe touches.” You rise and face the camera, bending down with legs straight as your fingertips brush your toes. “Good, just like that.” And each line of praise is like a shot of vodka, a shock of ambrosia to your system, intoxicating. You know he’s looking down your shirt with each rep, but it’s a thrill you find exhilarating instead of embarrassing for once. Halfway through he has you turn around so he can make sure you’re not dipping at the knees.

You do the first one and he groans, quiet but you still catch it. You call over your shoulder and ask if he’s ok and he clears his throat, voice full of audible gravel even in his one word response. “Aye.” You finish and all that’s left is your lunges and stretches. You bend your knees and step into the first lunge, one leg at a time til you reach your goal of ten.

You’re finished and you turn to face the camera, you see he’s laid down on the bed, eyes intense and holding yours even from the small screen of the phone across the room. “Stretches now, lass.” He sounds out of breath and you wonder what you’d see if he flipped the view to his back camera.

You sit on the floor, legs V’d and begin to stretch them wider and wider. You curse your decision for shorts and blame it on being tired and not thinking it through. You know the crotch of your shorts is pulling taut against your pussy, barely covering your panties as you stretch further and further. You start to strain, little puffs of breath and groans escaping your lips as you widen your stretch. “Hold it, bonnie.” And you do just as he asks, holding it against the potent pain accumulating in your calves and inner thighs. “Just a little more, doing so good fer me.”

You hold it for another five seconds and he finally lets you release. You’re breathing heavily as you draw your legs back together and if you aren’t mistaken you think you can hear his labored breathing as well. “Johnny.” His voice is thick with strain. “Aye, lass.”

“What are you doing?” His smirk is devastatingly handsome as he speaks. “Nothing yet, lass.” You feel emboldened and press your luck, eyes connected with his as you command him. “Flip your camera Johnny.” His eyes hold yours raptly for a few seconds before he does as you ask and the shot flips to his chest and legs lying on his bed. He’s got a dark blue comforter and you can see in the frame a pull up bar and a few weights on a rack in the corner, just what you’d expect but the first thing to catch your eye is the raging bulge in his gray sweats and your breath hitches as his hand comes into view, wrapping around the base of the stretched fabric and adjusts it to better accommodate his length.

“See what ye do tae me, hen?” You do see, you can’t look away as his hand squeezes himself through the cloth cage. Your mind, overworked and fried is trying to get you to say something, anything, but the only thing that will compute is his name. “Johnny.”

“Get up and sit down on the couch, lass.” His voice holds a tone of gentle authority, you could probably protest but you’re tired and trying to swim against the current of what your body wants is a task you’re not up for at the moment, so you give in and let him command you.

You sit on the couch at first, eyes still glued to where he’s fisting his cock through his clothes. “Sit back, hen and spread your legs.” You do sit back but you don’t spread your legs, at first. “Come on, bonnie. Jus’ like we practiced.” So you do, not as wide as you would when stretching but enough to give him a view and the tingles of anticipation thrumming through you has you on edge, like you’re standing before a cliff and about to jump, there’s no going back from this.

He groans and you watch with keen eyes as he pulls his sweats down until he’s just in his boxers, the same dark blue shade as his bed spread. “Ye wanna see more, lass?” He’s tempting you and it’s working, you do wanna see more but it’ll come at a price. “Yes.” He wraps a fist around his cock and you shift uncomfortably as your panties dampen. “Take yer shorts off.”

You sit up and tug your shorts down your legs, feeling dirty but heightened as you do, like you’re liberating something inside yourself even you don’t quite understand. He hisses air through his teeth as he spots the wet patch quickly growing and soaking the gusset of your panties.

He pulls his boxers down and his cock springs up into view, finally free and it makes you bite your lip. He’s thick and has length to boot, a good seven inches of it guessing by the comparison of his hand up against it.

There’s a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair spreading out from the base and you can’t help but moan as he wraps his hand around it and begins to tug lazily. His voice is husky and deep when he speaks.

“So pretty, hen. Are you that wet all fer me?” And you’re beyond words so you just nod, eyes glued to the way he tugs on himself. He curses under his breath and your pussy aches from the lack of stimulation. You snake a hand down your chest, descending toward the pain, itching to relieve the tension. “That’s it, lass. Let me see ye touch yerself fer me.”

So you do, just overtop of the fabric, a roll of your fingertips overtop your clit, enough to make your head tip back and moan blissfully. “Good girl.” You look back up to see him working his shaft in earnest, firm grip and steady movements. You feel emboldened by his reactions and lean forward again to rid yourself of the cloth barrier. He stops and watches as your pussy comes into view for the first time.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Fucking gorgeous.” He resumes his movements as your fingers settle over top your bare clit and you start to rub tight little circles over it, just how you like. “Show me Bonnie, show me just how you like it.” The sexual tension between the two of you, the stress of the day all come to a head and you reach down to spread your wetness up and around your clit, moaning low and sultry as he watches you play with yourself.

You reach your other hand up and squeeze one of your breasts through your top and look back up into the screen. Watching him pick up the pace, making fast even strokes over the tip of his cock with each movement. The motion of his hands, the way his tip disappears into his fist and reappears with each pass is mesmerizing. You can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building and it just drives you on as you think about coming in front of him for the first time.

Your fingers pick up speed and your moans rise in pitch as he talks you through it. “Mmm such a bonnie little pussy. I wanna see ye come for me lass. Can ye do that fer me? Come nice and hard fer me?” You suck in a deep breath as you work your body into a frenzy, pinching a nipple between your fingers as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

You look up to see him vigorously stroking his cock. His breathing is heavy and loud through the speakers and you wonder if he’ll be loud when he comes. You’re close and even though he’s not even in the same room as you he can tell, spurring you on. “That’s it hen. Just like that. Do it. Cum fer me.”

It’s all it takes to send you spiraling. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you fall over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. You let out a long drawn out moan as you do, body tensing as you pant and writhe on the couch in full view.

You look up when he calls your name, watch as his strokes quicken and shorten and then all at once he’s coming undone, legs tensing and white hot cum shooting from the tip of his hard cock. It arcs through the air before landing in spattered lines across his thighs. The guttural yell that falls from his lips as he does is loud, just as you’d expected and you wish you could feel it, the rumble of his chest when it sounds.

You’re both breathing heavily and coming down when it hits you, the post nut clarity. You just had very raw, hardcore phone sex with a man who made a copy of the keys to your home, came over without you knowing while you were at work and invaded your personal space.

You’re ashamed and a little sickened by what you’ve just done. Quickly closing yourself off from view you snatch your panties and shorts from the ground and redress. “Fuck, lass. That was fucking amazing.” You’re already working on damage control in your mind, blocking out the experience, no matter how much you enjoyed it, it was wrong.

“No Johnny. It wasn’t.” You can see him switch the camera around and he’s way more relaxed now, smile a mile wide on his face. “Aye, it was. Cannae wait tae see ye, tomorrow.”

You don’t even know if you’ll show up now, how could you after that? It was just a mistake you told yourself, a tired slip up, absolutely a one time thing. You close your eyes and when you open them he’s looking at you and you swear you can his adoration for you swimming in them. “Go to sleep, lass. I wanna see ye tomorrow at 4:30.”

You say nothing and hang up. It’s very late before you fall asleep that night, debating whether or not the consequences of not showing up tomorrow are something you can afford to risk. If you don’t show up he could just pop into your house at any time. It’d be better to just show up and act like nothing happened, that was the key, just brush it under the rug and hope he’ll do the same.

You’re nervous about it all day at work, and you know Nancy knows something is wrong but you insist everything’s ok. You’re too ashamed to tell her about any of it and she relents and leaves you alone but she knows you’re lying. When four o’clock hits you’re out the door, won’t be able to stop this frenzied state of mind until you can clear things up with him and make things go back to normal.

The next day when you walk in the door and sign in he meets you at the desk and before you even have a chance to say anything he’s on you, lips crashing into yours in a passionate and very explicit kiss right in the lobby of the building surrounded by patrons and gawking onlookers.

He doesn’t even give you room to breathe let alone get a word in as his body presses up against yours and he grabs ahold of the back of your neck to keep you locked against him. When he pulls away you’re shell shocked and silent. As he pulls you against him and walks you further into the building you know things have taken an irrevocable turn.

#cod x reader #soap x reader #dark!johnny #dubcon #dark fic #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod #cod soap #twdubcon

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Break Me Down - Part 7

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: I think a lot of you have been waiting on this one…and stick around after the end for something special!

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Can’t Wait” by Foreigner (if you listen to it, you’ll see why).

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut and feels. That is all.

Part 7: Until Midnight

Two weeks later, you could admit that Ben was frustrating you in a different way than usual.

You didn’t want to like him, or be indebted to him. But he was different lately whenever the two of you were alone. Especially at night, when the two of you often met in the kitchen.

It was the one time where he truly seemed to relax, without his men around him. Without the Soldier Boy persona he wore like a fine tailored suit.

One night, the two of you were once again sitting together in the kitchen after a marathon of all three Hangover movies. Now you each had a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, of which you’d convinced him to try the “Chunky Monkey” so you could have your “Half Baked” brownie pieces and cookie dough to yourself.

Ben had all but inhaled his, while you were still chipping away at half the pint.

“You still hate me?” he asked.

You paused in delving into a thick piece of brownie to look up at his bearded face, which was deceptively nonchalant. If he was asking you that, then he really did want to know.

Yet it was a harder question to answer than you would’ve thought a couple of weeks ago. You decided to level him with the truth this time.

“Like I said before, I don’t have a personal vendetta against you or anything,” you admitted.

Ben rose a brow at you. “But you hate me.”

You sighed. He could be so childish sometimes.

“Have you forgotten that you’re still holding me against my will?” you pointed out. “Presumably until my team can find me, and you can pick them off one by one.”

“You fuckers came at me first,” he countered. “And I haven’t touched you. Hell, I saved you.”

Yes, he had. You couldn’t ignore that fact.

But there were other reasons that he needed to be put in check.

“You’ve killed a lot of fucking people, Ben,” you said. “I can’t imagine how many of them didn’t deserve it. And before you start, collateral damage is not an excuse. It’s murder. You haven’t seemed to care about that, or much of anyone other than yourself and your own amusement.”

There. Cards on the table.

Ben set down his ice cream on the counter with enough force to rattle his spoon. He crossed his arms at you.

“You’re pretty fucking high and mighty for someone who probably spent the last few years up Vought’s shithole,” he pointed out, shaking his head. “Doing their dirty work. Whatever I did back then, it didn’t end with me. You were part of it too.”

You frowned in annoyance. A hot retort was poised on your tongue.

Whatever he did back then? He’d crashed a skyscraper and killed nineteen people last year! He’d taken out nearly the entire cast of Payback, his old team. However justified he felt about the latter, taking a life was taking a goddamn life!

You wanted to say all that and more…but you paused.

Because he wasn’t exactly wrong, about you at least. You knew you’d done your fair share of shit. And you had taken people out, when you’d needed to.

For self-defense, to stop a criminal, to protect someone…and yes, sometimes, you’d been part of the cleanup crew. Disposing bodies and extracting supes from “unfortunate situations.”

Those times made you feel less than human for being a part of it. And it was the main reason why you’d gotten the courage to quit Vought and join Supe Affairs in the first place…

You frowned at the trail of your thoughts, but his voice soon jolted you out of them.

“Ain’t this a bitch,” said Ben. “If you could, you’d want me dead. Even though I saved you.”

Your lips pursed. “Dead is a strong word.”

His angry gaze on you was unrelenting.

“Asleep is as good as dead for me.”

You stared back at him in resignation. Fair enough.

You couldn’t refute that, but you also didn’t know what he wanted from you. He was implying that he wanted you not to hate him, but he wasn’t willing to let you go either.

You got up to put your spoon in the sink, mostly so you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore.

Ben rose from his seat. You felt him approach from behind. You still tensed up as his arm reached around your form to drop in his own spoon. His arm withdrew, but he stood just behind you, at your side. His hand curled around the edge of the counter.

Letting out a discreet, steadying breath, you turned towards him and met his assessing gaze…but you soon looked away.

It was too much. He was too much. Even his musky cologne was invading your senses, threatening to cloud your judgment.

Before you could back away, Ben grasped your chin, tilting your face up to him so you couldn’t hide. He heard your pulse picking up with his sensitive ears.

“Well, well. Your heart’s just racing away, baby doll,” he said.

He smirked at the blush rising in your cheeks, despite your defiant gaze. You might’ve said you wanted to put him to sleep, but you definitely didn’t seem to hate him.

“You know, that offer’s still on the table,” he said. Your brow quirked, and you crossed your arms.

“What offer?”

Ben’s hand slid along to frame your jawline, his thumb sweeping across your reddened cheek.

“I can help you end that little dry spell of yours,” he drawled. “Calm that pretty head and have you sleeping soundly tonight.”

Oh, he’d help you fucking sleep, he thought.

He’d help you not be able to sit on that perfect ass for a week. He’d gladly work you up with fingers, lips, and tongue until you threatened to fucking drown him. Until you were writhing at his touch and singing just for him. Until you begged him to fuck you.

But you just rolled your eyes at his offer with a huff. Maybe you didn’t believe he was serious. Oh, but he fucking was.

Overall, you were a pain in his ass. And you had been from the beginning.

You had a dangerously smart mouth for a woman. Along with a stubborn streak to rival his, and a strangely self-righteous attitude for someone who’d mucked through the bowels of Vought and played a part in that world, just like him. You weren’t so fucking innocent either.

But he could also see that you were trying to be different. You had a conscience. A family and friends and a lot of other things that Ben didn’t have anymore. And maybe never had to begin with…

You claimed to want to bring him down, but you cooked for him, hung out with him, and he could start to believe that you actually enjoyed his company, rather than pretended for self-preservation’s sake.

You were a fucking conundrum that he couldn’t totally figure out. And all the while, you didn’t seem to realize how much of a temptation you were.

It didn’t matter if it was that sexy red dress at the club or these plain-ass jeans you were wearing. His hands itched to mold to your curves, squeeze and tease and familiarize himself until he could find out how glorious it would be to damn near suffocate between your thighs.

Your pretty blush, however, was spreading down your neck. Ben wondered how far he could make it go as he glanced down your V-neck top. His smile edged into a grin.

“I’ll admit, maybe I haven’t been the best host,” he said, injecting some charm. “You gotta be bored as all hell by now.”

You swallowed as his hand moved down the side of your neck. His fingers slid into your hair, but he kept the smooth pad of his thumb brushing across your cheek. You didn’t want to admit that it felt nice—and electrifying at the same time.

His touch was raising goosebumps down the back of your neck, tingling down your spine.

“You might be projecting,” you managed to quip. “Is the conveyor belt of prostitutes and drugs finally losing its appeal?”

You studied his face, his smirk, and you had a feeling you had deduced correctly: he was bored too. But now you knew why he didn’t want you to hate him.

He just wanted to fuck you.

That thought wasn’t so surprising. It seemed this man could jump into bed with just about anything with a pulse. But it still made a tendril of heat lick up your spine and your face flush.

You should’ve just pushed him away already…but his nearness was mucking up your good sense.

The truth was, you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore. And maybe you didn’t hate him.

Maybe…

“Well, what’s it gonna be?” he asked you.

Your lips parted, halting on a reply.

Ben smirked. His hand tightened in your hair, and he finally began to lean down.

But your breath hitched. You instinctively pressed your hands against his chest before he could kiss you, a firm push.

“Ben,” you uttered.

He stopped, looking down at you with knitted brows. He just thought you were being stubborn now, a fucking tease even…

Until he saw the frisson of fear in your eyes.

He quirked a resigned smile. Stroking your cheek one last time, he let you go.

“All right,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

Your heart was hammering like a Phil Collins drum solo inside your chest as you made your way back to your room.

What the hell, what the hell.

He’d teased and flirted with you before, but not like this. It wasn’t totally obnoxious or disgusting, like he’d genuinely been trying to persuade you. He’d even looked disappointed when you stopped him. And he’d allowed you to stop him.

(And you resisted a shudder at the contrasting memory of Antonio.)

When you were back in your room, you released a relieved sigh. Your hands trembled on the doorknob.

But it wasn’t fear that’d made you nervous with Ben. Not exactly. It was the insane part of you that actually wanted to take him up on his offer.

Fuck, you thought, raising a palm to your still-warm forehead. I really must be crazy. Or sick. Sick in the head.

Or it had been a stupidly long time since you’d gotten laid.

“Seriously, tell me,” he’d said once, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes.

“How fucking long’s it been since that pretty pussy’s been touched? ‘Cause in my opinion, that’s a damn shame.”

The memory caused a delicate tingle in your lower belly, pulsing between your legs. You took in a deep, calming breath through your nose.

That’s it, you thought. I’m done with this.

So you tried for a cold shower first. For the record, you locked the bathroom door before you undressed and hopped into the shower. As the water beat against your back and you dutifully lathered soap on your skin, you couldn’t help imagining his heavy hands running over your body.

Fuck. You frowned and quickly dragged yourself out of the shower.

For a few minutes, you were too antsy to get dressed. You paced your small room wearing only a towel, not even thinking really. Just frustrated beyond belief (sexually or otherwise). The truth was, you needed something, or you were going to implode.

With a heavy sigh, you laid in bed on your side, still wrapped in your towel. You wrapped your hair up in a loose bun and closed your eyes, just taking a few moments to breathe evenly.

Your knees were folded up, almost to your chest. But you relaxed and let your thighs fall open. With a tentative hand, you decided to slide up between your thighs, just teasing the seam of your pussy.

Then with a sigh, you delved between your folds and teased yourself, to start with. Warmth grew in your lower belly, and you sighed louder when you slid a finger inside. You were wet already just with this, and your sighs turned to shallow breaths, and even a moan once heat flooded through your core, and you were getting close…

But a knock at the door just had to startle you.

“Hey, sweetheart. You there?”

Your eyes widened with a gasp, and you moved your hand back to your thigh. Oh shit.

It was Ben. Of course it was fucking Ben.

“Ah, w-wait a minute,” you replied. You scrambled out of bed to lock the door before he tried to come in.

But just your luck, he cracked it open just as you got there. You were met with his handsome face.

His brows rose, his lips then curving when he looked down at you. Or more specifically, you clad in only a towel. You tightened it up on reflex, with a hand on the twisted part at your chest.

“Excuse me,” you said in annoyance. “I don’t remember inviting you in.”

His mouth twitched at a deeper grin.

“It’s nothing major. I just had to ask you something,” he said, with an air of nonchalance that only made you suspicious.

Your lips pressed together as you rose an expectant brow.

“Okay, ask,” you said.

Ben reached for your hand, the one holding your towel together.

“Can I see this hand?”

You yelped and secured the towel with your other hand while he examined the one he held.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, with real irritation now. Ben ignored you in favor of staring at your hand, specifically the pads of your fingers. Then his gaze cut to you slyly.

He held your middle and index finger up to his nose, with an obscene inhale.

Your eyes grew wide as your heart stuttered. He did not just…

And Ben smirked.

“I think you’re the one with the fucking problem,” he said knowingly. He took a step forward, but you stepped back. Unfortunately, that just brought your back against the doorframe. Your mouth went dry when you again looked up at him.

“I don’t know what—”

He stopped you before you could deny it further.

“You think I couldn’t fucking hear you?” he asked.

You bit your lip. Oh God.

His brows ran even higher, his smirk ever deeper. His lust-ridden eyes raked over you, but they soon met yours again. His thumb ran down the inside of your wrist, over your quickening pulse point.

“I know you’re frustrated. It’s been a while, huh?” he said. “Believe me, I know the fucking feeling. But I can take care of that little problem for you. Take care of you.”

You took in a tremulous breath. His heady voice was a curse, reverberating through your chest and running straight down between your legs, warm and pulsing. He raised your chin to make you look up at him.

“You don’t have to like me for that, do you?” he asked.

It was as honest an offer as you were ever going to get. You had to give it to him though, in this, he was a good goddamn actor. He seemed to have figured out exactly what it would take to soften your resolve.

In fact, he fucking crumbled it.

You released a shuddering breath, and tugged him into your room by his shirt. With a hand behind his neck, you pulled him down into your hungry lips.

That kiss was warm and heady, fueled with a passion that only waiting and wanting could create.

Ben took the invitation to heart, grabbing your hips and already bunching the fabric of your towel. It was thin, and he felt the soft give of your curves underneath. He hoisted you up into his arms.

While a normal man might’ve struggled, you knew it was effortless for him. You willingly wrapped your legs around his waist and held his face with both hands. You broke the kiss for a second so you could brush his hair back and made sure he looked into your eyes this time.

“I don’t hate you,” you told him between panting breaths. “I should, but I don’t.”

And that was the God’s honest truth.

Ben paused at that. He roamed your face, maybe judging if he believed you or not.

Then, his mouth curved, and with one hand he reached back to slam your bedroom door shut. It shook on its hinges, but he didn’t wait for it to settle as he walked you to the bed and laid you there beneath him. Your hair fell out of its messy bun and fanned out on the pillow.

Ben gazed down at you, enjoying the sight of you all laid out for him. You were already breathing shallowly, your beautiful eyes bright with anticipation and wild desire. They were honest, and he liked that he finally knew what you were thinking.

He claimed a tight grip on your smooth thighs, parting them so he could find his way in between. He moved his way up to claim your lips next. They were plush and pliant under his.

You sighed against his mouth, diving a hand into his soft hair and running a hand down to the buttons of his shirt. He stopped you and all but tore it off himself.

You blinked in surprise, and then giggled a little at his impatience. But it allowed you to explore the new expanse of golden tan skin, down his neck, over his firm chest and muscular arms.

He relished in it for a moment—your touch. Your hands were soft and warm, and you looked to be genuinely enjoying yourself.

He smirked at that, but he grabbed your wrists before they could venture too much farther than the trail of hair leading below his belt. He trapped them against the bed on either side of your head, and you raised your brows at him with an annoyed little frown. Ben had to chuckle.

“Did I say you could touch me yet?” he said. You met him with a challenging tilt of your chin.

“Who says you get to make all the rules?” you asked. Your calf slid up between his legs, brushing insistently against his already rock-hard length. Ben let out something between a grunt and a moan, and didn’t realize that his grip on your arms was starting to get more than bruising.

You winced, with a pained sound caught in your throat. “Ben, you’re gonna break me.”

He amended his grip immediately, frowning at himself. He knew how to control his goddamn strength, even in moments like this (usually). Maybe he was too fucking excited to finally have you beneath him.

But he soothed his thumbs over your wrists and heeded the tug of your hands down to your waiting kiss. He braced an arm above your head and all but devoured you, slipping his tongue past your lips.

He kissed you like a man starving. Like you’d never been kissed in your life, and it was all you could to keep up with his demands.

Eventually he burned a wet trail from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your neck. He inhaled your floral soap, a scent that had been driving him crazy for days.

He sucked hard behind your ear, and you gasped, thought you were going to see stars.

Unconsciously you gripped at his hair, tugging more harshly than you meant to. But by the pleased sound he made against your skin, you figured he didn’t mind.

Ben soothed a heavy hand up your side and reached between you to untie your flimsy towel. And you let out a slightly shaky breath when he took in your fully naked form for the first time.

“Hmm,” his lips slipped into a grin. “I knew it. Fucking beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but blush, but you didn’t quite know what to say. Ben noticed; it wasn’t too often that he had you speechless.

Amused, he thumbed at your lower lip once more, making you smile almost shyly. (He kind of liked that too.)

And he finally touched you, brushing a hand between the valley of your breasts before palming at one of them. You sighed in appreciation, then moaned as his lips found the other one, his tongue swirling languidly around your nipple.

You arched into his touch, gripped into every groove and dip of muscle in his arms, especially when his fingers rolled and pinched just hard enough on the other nipple.

Your thighs pressed together between the cage of his legs, trying to find friction.

Ben noticed. He let one hand sooth down your belly, half pinning you down as he continued his relentless exploration. You wanted to touch him too, but right now he wasn’t letting up. Everywhere he touched and kissed and sucked set your skin on fire, and enhanced the flood between your legs.

“Ben,” you panted into his ear. If you weren’t allowed to find out what he liked yet (though you had several ideas), then you wanted him to touch you.

“Be fucking patient,” he said with a chuckle. “I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

You had no doubt of that. But you were becoming impatient.

“Yeah? Am I gonna be as old as you before we get to it?” you teased. Ben glanced up at you, but seeing your smirk, his own grew.

“All right you little shit,” he muttered. He moved up to claim your smart-ass lips, swallowing your giggle as he took a firm grip of your hair.

His other hand, meanwhile, slid up the back of your thigh to grip a nice handful of your ass. He ground his clothed dick into your core and made you both moan.

He slipped a hand up the inside of your thigh and brushed between your legs, making you quiver with anticipation.

He smiled and glanced down.

“Finally, something I recognize in this century,” he remarked. “A nice bush.”

Your brows raised high, both in surprise and slight embarrassment. No one had ever given you that particular compliment before. But you did pride yourself on being neatly trimmed.

“What?” you still uttered.

“Women are so damn waxed nowadays. Feels like I’m fucking a mannequin,” he said.

“Oh, yeah.” You giggled as something occurred to you. “I’m assuming you encountered some bare landing strips on your tour of Brazil.”

He snorted in response. “One girl actually tried to get me on the waxing table. Something about a ‘manzilian.’”

You couldn’t help it. You pictured how confused he must’ve been at that particular offer. How damn near offended (and possibly intrigued).

And you laughed genuinely so hard that you covered your eyes as they teared up.

It made Ben smirk on reflex, feeling pleased that he achieved that kind of reaction out of you.

“You tapped out on that one, huh?” you asked, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

Ben shrugged. “Wasn’t so bad, actually.”

At that, you laughed even harder. Oh, how you wished you could’ve seen that.

Ben quirked an amused brow at you.

“You laughin’ at me, sweetheart?” he warned. He reached between your legs while you were distracted, and thick fingers slipped between your wet folds. You yelped in surprise, but then moaned in pleasure as his thumb found your already sensitive clit.

But he, in fact, knew how to take care of you. His thick digits explored your channel and rubbed persistently against that spongey part near the back, slipping in and out with ease, and circling deliberately around your clit until your inner walls squeezed around his hand.

All the while, you held on tight to his shoulders and shuddered at the warmth cresting deep inside you.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, with a clenching hand in your hair. “Squeeze the shit out of me. Come all over my fucking hand, and then I’ll consider filling you up to the fucking brim.”

With a long and keening moan, you came apart, hot and wet over his fingers.

“Shit. That’s a good girl,” he praised with a nod. He stroked inside you a couple more times before he withdrew his glistening hand.

You held onto his other one as you panted for breath. “Fuck.”

“Fucking right,” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes, but you still smiled as you sat up and went for his belt. You were surprised he hadn’t fully undressed himself sooner, but he sat up and let you do it.

The two of you knelt on the bed as the belt came free, followed by his pants and underwear and socks (he’d long ago kicked off the shoes). His smug smirk came back now that he was in his full glory, so to speak.

Another blush heated your face. You’d seen him like this once before, but there had been…a lot going on that time.

This time you had him all to yourself. Your canvas to explore. You started with kisses down his neck, like he’d done to you, biting and sucking though you couldn’t leave any marks on his skin.

Not fair, you thought in disappointment, but at least you were eliciting some pleased and guttural sounds the further down you went. And then you took his hard, velvety cock in your hands.

He was big enough that you were maybe a little concerned, but not enough to deter you as you teased him with your soft hands, then squeezed and caressed experimentally. He gripped your hips tight.

“Now who’s taking a fucking eternity,” he gritted out. He encouraged you to lie back and raised your hips. You found purchase on his shoulders as your eyes met with his, and after a beat, you smiled and gave a short nod.

Ben aligned himself at your entrance and, slowly as he could manage, pushed inside you. You cried out as he stretched you, filled you deep and bottoming out with mangled moans from both of you.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so fucking good already.”

You managed to smile and run a hand down his chest. “Uh, you didn’t ask, but I am on birth control.”

His brows furrowed in realization. “What, the fucking pill?”

His team certainly hadn’t supplied you with that for the past month.

You shook your head. “No. An IUD. It’s fine.”

You couldn’t believe you two were having this conversation when he was literally inside you already.

“What? Thought those died out in the 70s,” he said.

“Well, they came back,” you said impatiently. “Just fuck me, Ben!”

Not one to be told twice, Ben continued by slowly pulling out of you, nearly the entire length of his cock, before pushing back in. It was torturous for him, but he knew you needed the time to adjust. By the third stroke, however, he snapped back into you more forcefully.

It elicited a gasp and pleased shudder out of you. Grinning, he picked up the pace from there and pounded into you at a relentless clip. You held onto his arms for dear life, your nails clawing fruitlessly into his skin. You grabbed his hand when he reached a particularly good angle, moaning his name.

“That’s right, crooner. Soon enough I’ll have you singing my fucking name,” he growled. “Knew I was gonna have you just like this, fucking you raw.”

You moaned in response. His words, his voice, his touch, it was all breaking you down and taking you apart, piece by piece.

Meanwhile, your voice only spurred him on. Letting go of your hand, his reached for your cheek. Then it slid down to your neck.

“You got a safe word, baby girl?” he asked, closing a firm, but playful hand around your throat.

But before he could put much pressure, your eyes flew open. Not in arousal, but in panic. Your hands flew to grasp at his wrist.

“Don’t! Please, don’t.”

Ben looked down at you, surprised enough to pause in all his movements. He released his hand.

He’d very rarely seen wide-eyed panic in your eyes and in your voice. And you’d never said please.

But then, even more strange, you got embarrassed.

You looked away from him as you caught your breath. Ben called to you uncertainly, perhaps for the first time using your actual name.

You took in a deep breath and sat up. But instead of pushing him away, like he half-expected, you moved so that you were both on your knees and you were straddling his lap.

Using his shoulders as leverage, you resumed the pace of dipping his still hard cock inside you, making you both groan in relief.

Ben helped you, gripping your hips to bounce you on top of him.

Soon enough, he grunted as that familiar tightening and heat of pleasure started to make his upward thrusts wild. He knew he was close…

And he snaked a hand between you to roll over your clit, making sure you were going to get there with him.

A deep tremble went through your lower belly, tightening your inner walls around him impossibly tight as you started to come. Then he followed, finally spilling up and into you.

His arms came around your waist like steel bands as you relaxed on top of him, panting for breath and holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

You gazed down into his eyes, and then his growing, triumphant smirk. It triggered your own wry smile.

And you had to wonder, What the hell did I just do?

AN: Was it as good for you as it was for me? 😏

But ok, seriously, I'm a bit self-conscious when it comes to writing smut, so I genuinely hope you enjoyed the ride lol.

(@waynes-multiverse You probably won't see this for a while, but our convo about the Brazilian wax made it into this chapter. 🤣)

Special Feature:

Check out this lovely moodboard created by @chernayawidow — specifically for this story!

I am obsessed:

She also takes requests, so just message her!

Next time:

You called his name again and took his face with both hands.

“Wherever you are in your mind right now, you’re here with me. Stay with me!” you raised your voice. His skin was getting really hot.

You gasped and had to let go of him when it threatened to burn you. His chest started to glow and hum. Your eyes widened, and finally, so did his.

Keep Reading: PART 8

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@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel

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#until midnight #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy fic #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 7 #zepskies writes

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cowyolks · 2 years

Text

In Bloom (König x Reader)

Sequel to Petals

Summary: Being social awkward makes it hard to ask just about anything. König is as social awkward as it comes. Sometimes actions speak louder than words.

Warnings: Social Anxiety, mentions of sex, vague descriptions of sex, this is pure fluff again folks.

Tags: @augustpeace01 @vvh1sk3y

You could be the first to admit you were wrong about having a secret admirer. Looking down at the little poem he had written in his own messy handwriting made your heart beat faster. The portrait he drew so elegantly drawn it looked to be a picture. It had to have taken König a long time to study the details of your face.

You’d had a soft spot for him a long time ago. This note was just the courage you needed to release your emotions and put yourself out there.

He had picked you a gorgeous cornflower, your favorite. Of course he had been listening when you spoke of it, he was always there when you needed him to be.

“König!” You shouted, catching his giant frame speed walking quickly down the grass slope of the meadow. He had his hands over his uncovered face, pressing deep against his temples as he debated if jumping off a cliff would save him the humiliation from calling his crush beautiful, gifting her a flower and then running away like an idiot.

He felt his heart drop, and steeled up his walls sturdy so when you’d reject him it wouldn’t hurt as bad as he’d hope. What made matters worse was when he caught the familiar paper hanging in the grasp between your fingers. The paper he had drawn you on.

His cheeks reddened as he glanced down, lowering his head and ready to hear your worst. You slowly walked closer to him, he could see you tilting your head up to get a good look at his reddening face.

Oh fuck it, you’ve already waited enough for this.

“I love you too.” You admitted, your own cheeks growing red as you watched König’s eyes round to the size of saucers as he tried to comprehend what you had told him.

“You…. You do?” He whispered, hardly chancing a glance up from the ground as he was afraid it was a figment of his imagination. “Of course I do.” You reassured strongly. You still clutched the flower he gifted you tightly by the stem as König took a gamble and brought his eyes up.

He took a step closer, than another until his warm breath fanned across your face pleasantly. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist until he held onto the pretty flower in your grasp. His hands were shaking, his eyes soft with a newfound relief. He took the stem from your grasp, reaching up to your face to tuck the cornflower behind your ear. His hand stayed there, holding against your neck.

“May I kiss you?” He asked impeccably soft. “Yes,” you breathed, bringing a hand up to his chest slowly before his head dipped low, his nose bumping against yours as his soothing eyes fluttered closed. Your lip brushed against his, only just softly for a moment, before he placed his hand on your waist, capturing it again in a delicate movement.

He held you, breaking the contact after a few short seconds, a small smile on his reddened lips.

So König had become something more than just a teammate on the battlefield. Yet, sometimes it was hard to adjust to how much he loved and adored you. You began to put the pieces together a year and a half later, after countless of poems and drawings he’d gifted you.

First he’d given you a beautifully drawn picture of yourself with a coffee mug held to your lips, your eyes on him from across the table.

It was mid spring in Austria, you could smell the tulips in the plentiful flower boxes among the cobblestone roads of Vienna. It had previously rained, but the air was not humid, only the smell of raindrops were left behind in the early morning hours.

You’d been working alone for a week, after König was forced to take leave after he had broken his ankle on field. The news had been devestating, but a small smile graced your lips as you scaled the two steps leading up to his flat. He hadn’t known you’d be here to see him.

After your first kiss in the meadow, you both had little time to yourselves because of the job. Now you’d been granted a week off to relax. You hoped König would be kind enough to allow you to stay.

Slowly you brought your knuckles up to the door, knocking three times before taking a step back. You tapped your foot nervously, eyes flickering around the entrance of his home as you spotted a silly welcome mat and a small pot of blue cornflowers. The door opened slightly, before a look of shock crossed over his face.

“What? How?” König spluttered, you could practically hear his heart beating. “You going to let me in, big guy?” You teased slightly with a laugh on your tongue. König pushed open the door, limping back slightly.

You took a step inside, instantly spotting the clean atmosphere of his home. It was very simple, with only the necessary furniture and appliances. Yet as you looked towards the lounge an easel rested in the corner, against a large and open window. Canvases scattered over a window seat, covered in ink and paint.

You felt warm breath on your neck as the grip of his fingers rested against your hips. His chest rising and falling against your back as he reached down and kissed your temple lightly. “I’ve got a week off, I figured I’d stop and see how my favorite person is doing,” you informed, spinning around in his grasp so you could take a good look at him.

It was odd seeing him in civilian clothes. It was still the early hours of the morning, so it was no shock that he stood before you in green pajama pants and a black fitted t-shirt. He had lost his hood, his light colored hair messy on top of his head.

He took the turn observing you, his eyes dancing adoringly across your large sweater and soft denim of your jeans. “You get more beautiful every time I see you.” He admitted, dipping low to catch your lips in a pleasant kiss.

You pulled away, a soft grin on your lips. “Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but this is the best gift to wake up to.” He confessed, before his eyes grew excited. “Let me get dressed, I want to take you somewhere.”

You watched as he limped down a hall, shutting a door behind him before emerging a minute later. Now he adorned in a dark green sweatshirt, his pockets stuffed in them deeply. Jeans fitted across his thighs nicely, a dark belt holding them in place on his hips.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he took your hand, leading you out of the home and onto the sidewalk near his street. You grew concerned how much he was walking on his busted ankle. He seemed to have read your mind. “It’s not far.” He squeezed your palm, his fingers nearly wrapping to your wrist as his palm swallowed your whole hand.

After a couple of minutes, you smelt the strong scent of espresso and sweet pastries. “Here we are.” He added. Many people sat inside, and you took a glance up and noticed the uncomfortable expression that overtook König’s face. “It’s usually never this busy.” He admitted, nearly shrinking as people began to notice his giant structure.

You had spotted a patio table outside, close to a box of spring roses and out towards a secluded corner. You squeezed his hand, “there’s a table over there. Go sit and I’ll order.” You watched as he began to relax, he told you what he recommended and you ordered an espresso and an apple strudel to share.

He had been gauging your reaction, watching delicately as you took a sip of the espresso, your eyes lighting up at the flavor. “This is really good.” You praised, watching as König took a pen from his pocket and began to sketch on a napkin. “I go here a lot.” He spoke, beginning to scribble slightly as you curiously glanced down at the paper.

He caught your gaze as he glanced up, “no peeking.” He scolded playfully, his walls breaking down when in your presence. You held up your hands, chuckling slightly before keeping your eyes glued to his features instead.

You picked up your cup, taking another sip of espresso just as König let out a satisfied chirp. “All done.” He finished, clicking his pen closed as he slid the paper towards you.

Your eyes watered as you took in the picture. It was you, just as your first picture had been, but your lips were pressed against the mug of expresso, your eyes wide with adoration from admiring König. He scribbled at the bottom another poem.

She’s knows not of her beauty,

Hidden in the valley of my mind.

My heart beats only for her,

Always have and always will.

You’d gotten your third note after a long mission in the Russian wilderness away from all other teammates in the faction. It was dark and cold, but you and König had managed to find an empty cabin to bunker into the night.

You had long since shed yourself of your heavy gear and vest, now only in your large winter coat and trousers. König had left a couple of minutes ago, in search of some firewood so the two of you would not freeze to death as you waited for the clouds to clear and a jet to pick you up tomorrow.

A clang interrupted your thinking as the Austrian slipped through the door, holding about a dozen large logs in his arms. “Damn it’s cold.” He said through his chattering teeth. He dropped the logs near a large hearth, setting a couple inside before switching open his knife to make some kindling against the bark.

You let out a small shiver of your own, pulling a lighter from your pocket to hand over to König, who took it from you graciously. The flames started slow, but after a couple minutes warmth began to trickle back into your bones as you sat in front of him on the cabin floor.

“You hungry?” He had asked, bumping into your shoulder as he sat next to you in front of the flames. He had long since abandoned his hood. He was chewing on his lip, something he did when he was thinking. You shook your head, after the long day you just wanted to relax and sleep. The wind howled loudly from outside as a shiver jumped down your spine.

“C’mere.” He held his arms out, opening them so you could lean against his chest. You let out a strangled yelp as he picked you up by the hips, gently setting you on his lap as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling you as if you were a baby. You hummed in content, “You’re like a personal heater.” You cooed, burrowing further into his chest as it vibrated from a chuckle.

He held you for what felt like forever, just in his own little world as he glanced at the flames. “Have you ever thought of having a normal life? Like as a civilian?” He asked, his fingers delicately twisting your hair in plaits absentmindedly before taking them out again.

“Sometimes. But I like how I am. It’s how I met you.” You admitted, eyes fluttering from his soft touches. “Im glad I met you, too.” He had twisted you, so your face was directed towards him and your legs slotted against his hips.

He took your lips between his, humming in the back of his throat as you gently bit on the soft flesh. He kissed you harder, simply enjoying the taste of them.

You had shifted, accidentally pushing down on his pelvis as he lowly groaned. You’d had plenty of make-out sessions with him before, but this was in uncharted territory.

You felt him against the back of your leg as your eyes widened slightly. He pulled away, his face growing hot as he began to stutter for an excuse. “I’m really sorry,” he pleaded with you to forgive him, but a small laugh left your lips instead.

“What are you sorry for?” You kissed him again, as he reluctantly kissed back, before pulling away again. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m the most comfortable around you, König.” You admitted, your eyes falling gently to the erection he was attempting to push down and hide. Biting your lip, you thought before speaking, “would you like me to touch you?” You questioned, your cheeks turning red as König looked as if he was about to faint.

“Yes.” He answered after some hesitation, but quickly held his large hand up, “only if you want to. Don’t worry about me, I want to make sure you are sure.”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything else.” You vowed before kissing him again.

The two of you spent the night in each other’s arms, holding onto your bare bodies as you relayed your dreams and wishes with each other.

After you had been picked up on the jet, he’d given you a paper in secret, drawn was an image of you and him, just up to your torso’s. You had been on his lap in front of the fire, huddled in your coat as you tilted your head up at him. He was looking down, his expression soft and adoring as he cradled the side of your neck. Scratched in his handwriting like always, was a poem,

She lit a fire in my soul,

Now her touch I crave.

My strings she controls,

My adoration cannot waive.

The last note he gave you sold the deal of the doubt in your mind. He’d love you for as long as the two of you had.

It was Christmas, and the Force had given the faction some time off to spend with their family over the holidays. You’d been fortunate enough to go back to Austria with König, who had gushed about the winter snow and pretty decorations. He reveled in the artistry of the wreathes and murals that hung prideful in his home city.

You’d spent the day decorating a tree the two of you had bought, among with horribly attempting to bake some biscuits in the oven. It was completely domestic, but it felt so right to do something so normal with König.

You were humming, looking out the window as you tried to scrub the horrendous mess of burnt biscuits on a baking sheet. Your eyes reflected from the Christmas lights from the town square, illuminating half of your face in a festive glow.

You were interrupted as a soft knock clacked against the door, alerting you of company. You wiped your hands on a dish towel, making your way to the front door since König was in the washroom showering.

You cracked the door open, “Um, hello?” You furrowed your brows. An elderly looking couple stood on the doorstep, the woman short with a round looking face, and the man tall with a kind face.

“Oh, Sie ist echt sehr hübsch.” The woman gushed, just as König strolled into the lounge. “Ma, Pa, I didn’t know you guys were coming”. He spoke excitedly, before his eyes trailed to you standing in front of the door.

“Ma, Pa, this is Y/n.” He introduced through reddened cheeks. “We’ve heard a lot of you.” König’s father spoke, “I cannot thank you enough for protecting him on the battlefield.”

“And for showing him how much he is truly loved.” His mother gushed, squeezing onto you tightly.

The four of you spent the time rushing around the square, pointing at the pretty decorations and buying last minute gifts. You had watched as König’s parents danced around the square, smiles on their faces as his father twirled around his mother.

“They’re very cute.” You commented, bringing your gloved hand to hold onto König’s shaking one. “Are you cold?” You asked, suddenly concerned by his tremors. “I’m fine, treasure.” He’d reassured, but he was biting his lip, so he had to be overthinking something.

After prodding him a while longer, he still didn’t give in. His parents had left a little over an hour ago, not without giving the two of you tight squeezes goodbye.

That’s how you found yourself in the lounge, perched on the sofa as König scrolled through the channels on the television, attempting to find some cheesy Christmas movie to watch. He paused on a channel playing Christmas music, before he flicked his eyes discreetly down to your yawning frame.

“You wanna dance now?” He asked, watching as your face lit up happily. You’d dragged him from the sofa, your arms looped around his neck as he held you close to him, swaying. “You going to tell me what’s been bugging you now?” You asked, König scoffed playfully, dipping you down with a chuckle before swaying with you again.

“Just worried about this gift I got you.” He mumbled. “It’s on the mantle on the fireplace, how about you open it?” He asked casually, although he felt the complete opposite as his heart raced.

“Before Christmas Day?” You teased, but your eyes spotted the small parcel wrapped neatly perched on the ledge. You turned your back, gently holding onto the package.

Your heart dropped as you peeled off the paper.

Inside was his signature artwork, but this one. This one was a special one. You were in it, your hands covering your mouth as the corner of your eyes crinkled with a smile, König was in the illustration too, his tall frame knelt on one knee.

You’d noticed his handwriting, reading the poem quickly as your eyes watered in happiness and shock.

She knows how much I adore her,

I’ll tell her every rising sun.

So let’s promise on forever,

My loving bond never to be undone.

You turned back to König, who mirrored the image nearly perfectly. He had a velvet box in his hand, a beautifully crafted ring front and center as he knelt on his knee.

“Will you marry me?”

#cod #konig x reader #konig #König #könig cod #könig x reader #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare

2K notes · View notes

xjustakay · 8 months

Text

(9/16) prompt: vision — 1,052 words (fame au pt.3; famous boyfriends pre-their first premiere together - pt.1, pt.2, pt.4, pt.5) @jegulus-microfic

Regulus is sure that Dorcas is pacing impatiently down in his building’s lobby while he finishes examining his reflection. She’s an ‘on time is late and early is on time’ sort of manager and Regulus tests that consistently. Especially since he and James started seeing each other, even more since they’ve gone public.

It’s their first premiere together, two months of their relationship being officially confirmed for the masses under their belt. Even Regulus is sometimes stunted by it still —the outpour of both shock and support that’s come from finally confirming that James is his boyfriend. The Marauders’ tour has been over for months, Regulus wrapped filming his latest project about a week and a half ago. Now, outside of their private time for just the two of them, it’s all various Hollywood events he’s invited to. Except it’s different now, because he gets to have James at his side walking carpets and taking photos.

He adjusts the collar of the white suit jacket his stylist picked out for him. They’ve forgone a shirt underneath and the jacket dips low down his bare chest when it’s left partially open. It leaves the diamond encrusted choker of pieces made to look like bones wrapped around his throat all the more apparent. The styling team had left a little while ago, giving him and James a brief bit of privacy before needing to leave.

Of course, most of that time thus far has been spent looking in a mirror, making sure he likes how he looks. He’s allowed to be a little vain, it’s practically in his job description. Regulus fluffs up the front of messily styled black curls before finally exiting the penthouse bathroom into the adjoined bedroom.

“Ready?” He asks.

James sits waiting for him at the foot of the bed in an all black crushed velvet suit; a picturesque opposite to the all white of Regulus’ ensemble. There’s a deep burgundy tie undone around his neck, left that way on purpose. A new pair of glasses were offered to him for the night, the squared-off frames the same shade of his silk tie, and they bring out the swirl of warm colors in James’ hazel eyes when he looks up from his phone.

Immediately upon his gaze landing on Regulus, James groans dramatically, like he’s in physical pain. He pinches his eyes shut tightly beneath the furrow of his brow, head slumping backward heavily on his neck.

“God, we have to break up right now. I can’t deal with you looking like this anymore.”

Regulus snorts, a smirk twitching at his lips. “Feels a bit dramatic.”

“I’ll write a song about the split and everything. It’ll be so clever, everyone will know it’s about you without trying. I’ll call it ‘Heartache On the Big Screen.’” James sweeps his hand in the air in example before he looks at him with a faint grin, brows lifted. “Are you seeing the vision? Because I’m seeing the vision.”

“Mm, little cheesy, if you ask me,” Regulus hums, moving nearer to stand in front of him. James’ knees part automatically to make room for him there, hands settling at Regulus’ hips when Regulus tucks a hand beneath his chin to tilt his head backwards. “You’re already thinking up lyrics, aren’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely.” James nods, tilts his head down to kiss at the back of Regulus’ hand in response to the soft laugh he lets out. “How do you feel about ‘a tragic story, starring you and me’ for part of the chorus?”

“I hate you,” Regulus laughs further.

“Just adding to my heartbreak, love, you’re really doing me a favor here.”

“You make it so hard to date you.” It’s the world’s biggest fucking lie and Regulus knows it.

James’ eyes flash triumphantly like he knows it, too. “‘Started out like in the movies, but it ended like a bad dream.’ Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Mhm, keep it coming.”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Regulus dips down to press a lingering kiss to his lips. James hums contently into it and Regulus can feel his unrelenting smile right against his own mouth. Both of James’ hands glide up beneath the back of his suit jacket, settling on the warm skin at his lower back.

It’s enough for Regulus to inch back, their lips still brushing as he murmurs, “Don’t fuck up this outfit, baby.”

“I’ll save that for later.” James winks at him.

With a huff of a laugh, Regulus pushes against his shoulders to put a little distance between them. He takes a small step back but holds out one hand expectantly for his boyfriend.

“Car’s waiting downstairs, Dorcas said. We should get to the photo op’s before you make up anymore fake songs.”

“Fake songs,” James scoffs playfully, taking his hand and standing up. “I’m writing it, it’s so real.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Just you wait, Reg. It’s going to be a fan favorite.”

“You’re lucky I like you so much.”

James chuckles behind him as they get to the front door, crowds into Regulus’ back as he presses the needed buttons for the security system. James loops his arms around his waist from behind and hugs around him. A couple kisses at the side of his neck. Another hum right beside his ear that Regulus can hear the smile present in.

Regulus resists the instinctive urge to tilt back into him, open himself up fully to the physical attention. He can’t afford to go into this premiere looking rumpled or someone (Dorcas) really might kill him.

“I am lucky, you know,” James says softly; so sweet, so full of an adoration that nine months ago might have had Regulus bolting away in seconds.

Instead, now, Regulus turns his head to look at James sideways, affection bright in his own shining eyes. He kisses once at the line of James’ jaw, a second time at his cheek, a third at the corner of his mouth. It’s soft and it’s tender —an isolated moment of knowing that this is real and they’re finally letting themselves have it, have each other.

Then, Regulus jokingly ruins it when he says, “Yeah, you really are.”

James only laughs loudly as he’s tugged by the hand out of the apartment and toward the elevator.

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #movie star reg and musician jamie my beloveds #s/o to 5 seconds of summer for the song james is talking about writing lmao #and s/o to mil for pointing out to me that fame au james would write it #also timmy’s bones and all look at london film festival #okay rambled in the tags bye #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

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soothinglee · 5 months

Text

even if my heart stops beating⏤✰

seungmin x reader | 1.6k✔︎

my notes⎯ hello everyone ! I know it's been a while since I've actually wrote something ! I actually got hit by a bus! yeah I had to sue this company called "writers block" and I finally got a settlement! (also happy new year!) I recently (like a week ago) got into Kpop, specifically Stray Kids ! I've read some fan fictions (shameless) about some of my favorites and got inspo to write one! thank you @soobnny . also I haven't wrote anything in a while so i'm a little rusty, i'll be as good as new soon!

warning⎯ mentions of vomit (used as word vomit) and crying.

genre⎯ angst to comfort.✔︎

songs⎯ six feet under; billie eilish | pretty boy; the neighborhood

the old rusted clock that came with the condo you and seungmin bought sits perched on the top of the fridge. Its old, wooden frame slowly caves in on itself as time goes on.

not even an hour or two ago you had happily entered your home to start cooking dinner, not even worrying about showering first because you were so excited to have dinner with your boyfriend.

even going out of your way to spend a hundred dollars over the amount you usually spend to give seungmin the greatest 'welcome home' feast. he and the rest of stray kids had been on tour for the last couple months, traveling all over the world to perform at concerts and do collaborations with other idols to promote their new albums.

sure, it had been lonely, being by yourself all of the time, the only glimpse of your boyfriend you could get is when he could facetime you for 2 minutes or when he responded back to a text 4 hours later. but you understood, you knew what you were getting yourself into even when you started becoming friends with him.

if anything, you were strong, understanding, and flexible to when he couldn't make it to something like a movie night or date when his plane arrives later or practice runs over.

the only thing now, is that he had promised you that he could make it on time to dinner. sending countless 'I swear ill be there' texts and swift calls ensuring his presences at the dinner table during his dance rehearsals.

but now you were sitting at the table alone. a cold jajangmyeon sits in the platter in front of you, a similar on across the table from you. looking up at that old clock the hour turns to 10 and he's officially 2 hours late. it wasn't unknown for him to run a little over his time but this was unbelievable. you curse yourself for being naive and truly thinking he would keep to his word.

as you get up and clean the meal that you created you feel a little piece inside of you break, watching your hard work spill into the leftover containers like your tears. this was embarrassing, waiting around like a puppy in hopes your owner comes home. you were loyal and hopeful to a fault but wasting time and money like this was just unacceptable.

by the time seungmin walked through the front door it was half pass midnight and you had situated yourself infront of the t.v watching a new drama a colleague from work recommended.

"(name)." he calls out, you hear his shoes hit the wall as he takes them off, and then theres a shuffle as he organizes them on the shoe rack. you hear him leave his keys in the bowl on the desk that was by the front door, his footsteps growing louder as he nears the living room.

"(name)." he calls out again, seeing you lay in a cocoon of blankets in the dark, he think maybe you're sleeping so he quietly discards his winter coat on the back of the couch. he flicks on the lamp on the other side of the couch to bring in some light. though when he comes around to sit down he finds your eyes wide open, "why didn't you answer me when I called?"

"why didn't you come on time like you promised?" you quipped back quietly, suddenly too exhausted to have any conversation with him. you try and sink further into the thick blanket as you watch the Netflix symbol load and the next episodes intro plays.

you can't see his face but when he sighs and shifts in his spot you can hear the hesitance, "you already know why, practice ran late, like always."

"whatever."

"'whatever?' what's going on with you?"

"nothing." your tone is snipped but honestly you couldn't care less. somewhere in your soul you feel as though this might be a little extreme of an reaction but there is only so much patience you can give one person. you constantly make time for him and this relationship, so why couldn't he move things around and do the same for you? your eyes remain on the television.

seungmins eyes dart quickly to the t.v and then back to you, noticing that your full attention isn't on him, so he leans over you and goes to grab the remote from your hands. at the sudden loss of contact you make a move to try and get the remote back from him but he effectively powers down the t.v and discards in on the coffee table.

"I'll only repeat myself so many times, what's going on?"

it was like a newfound energy fizzled at your toes and pushed itself up and towards your head, your body springs up from its sideways position and you angle yourself to face seungmin.

though the light was somewhat dim due to only the lamp being on, he could see the red-rim of your eyes and the dried streaks of tears sticking to your cheeks. obviously, it had been evident that you had been crying.

seungmins eyes soften for a moment, he reaches out to try and smooth out the puffiness of your cheeks but as soon as you see his hand coming you push it away, "you were crying?" it comes out more of a statement than a concerned question, but the worry was still evident in his tone.

"duh," you start, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the tense space, you find comfort in the carpet on the ground. you were feeling...nervous. you didn't want to cause anymore problems but things won't get solved unless they are discussed, which in all honesty, the thought of confrontation in the first place is feared.

you need to get it out, you can't stop living like this. deep down you know he cares but you have to stop going off of assumptions. either he's going to show up or not, it was clear already that you showed up no matter how busy you were.

"do you even still love me?"

the question tumbles from your lips before you could even process what you were saying. maybe it wasn't what you wanted to convey exactly but it was definitely a start.

"what?" his airy voice sounds dumbfounded which makes sense. the intense look you're giving him plus the profound, out-of-the-blue question throws him off guard.

of course he loves you, why would you ever think anything different? "where is this coming from?"

"well it's just that every time we have something planned your work gets in the way. I spend hours and hours getting ready, trying to look my best, just to waste the day sitting on the couch waiting for you to come home. sometimes I'm waiting so long I fall asleep! I put so much effort into being a good girlfriend! hell, I even spent over 100 dollars on dinner tonight because I knew you had a hectic day, it took me two hours to make it just for it to go cold and put into a container,"

your voice chokes up, full of exhaustion and disappointment. you feel the tears pooling in your eyes but have no energy to stop them. you really want to quit the word vomit but there's no point, theres more to be said.

"I try so hard to not get disheartened but it gets so hard when you don't even try. sometimes I feel like you don't even care about this relationship anymore, like you don't care about m-"

just as you were about to finish your words were muffled by hands on your face, and lips on yours. seungmin had kissed you to stop your rambling. you couldn't help but to feel relieved and somewhat offended.

"stop." he whispers as he takes a breath, his hands still on your face, foreheads connecting, "please stop." his voice crack under pressure, its subtle but at the lack of distance between you two you can hear it so well. your eyes are closed, trying to get your own tears at bay but hearing how emotional he's becoming breaks you. a sob teeters at your bottom lip but you force it still.

"don't you ever think that I don't care. I always have." he pauses and wipes the stray tears on your face with his thumbs, "I'm so sorry I've made you feel like this. god I'm such a bad boyfriend, this is my fault."

you try to move away to comfort him but he holds you in place gently, you sniffle and reach up to brush the bangs from his face.

"I promise you I'll be more attentive, ill take you out everyday, spend as much time with you, cook for you, miss practices all the time just to make sure you know I care about you."

"you promised earlier but you didn't come!" you cry, recounting how long you waited.

"I know!" his voice quivers as his hands tremble, lightly shaking your head, "I know...and i'll never forgive myself. you don't know how much you've shaped me into the person I am now and I- I have no clue what I would do without you. I just have a poor way of showing it."

you grip on his wrists, mimicking him with your eyes squeezed shut, you stopped trying to keep the tears in awhile ago, letting them fall freely into your covered lap. "how do I know I can trust you? I'm so sick of feeling like this."

"I promise you I will prioritize you more than anything, Idol life, dancing, singing- whatever, does not come before you. I won't leave you hanging like this anymore, i'm sorry I didn't pay more close attention to your feelings," his bottom lips shakes as he takes another deep breath, he opens his eyes and you can see pass the tears and sorrow a new found determination.

"even if my heart stops beating, you're the only one I need."

past your wary judgement...you believe him...

#seungmin x reader #x reader #seungmin fluff #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #soothinglee #seungmin angst #kim seungmin #skz x you #skz x y/n #idol au #established relationship

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acesw · 5 months

Text

new year, new angst

happy new years yall, if there is information that i never dropped here its the fact that im highly biased towards vertin and sonetto's relationship and i feel like i should drop a little scenario i wrote for the sake of it. its how i celebrate as an angst dweller :)

questions and questions. - A.D.

I didn't understand back then. I did not see you much after the incident, after Ms. Z had brought you back from the outside, drenched in rain. I would have gone to you if it were not for the guards that swarmed you both. You were the only one that came back. Why? Where did the others go? Did something happen to them? To you? What did you see in the outside?

I got the answer to my first few questions the following morning. When you came back, you did not talk for days; Did the things you would normally avoid. It was unlike of you, and I could not tell at that time if I felt relief or remorse. You didn't come up to me until the last night we saw each other up close.

On the night you left, you asked me to fix your hair, which was also an odd request. You normally didn't like doing this, but didn't exactly hate it either. (Perhaps I noticed too late that the reason you didn't hate it was because I was the one doing them.) I helped tie it into that rough and messy half-bun you only began to warm up to; I know you did, as it was the only way you could ever really stay still. You would talk about the frogs and the bugs you found near George the Oak, but you didn't. Not that night. Not in a time of wounds forced to be left unrefined by the white hands. When I made sure that the half-bun looked like the flowers you drew on your papers, you got off my bed and left with most of your things.

Why did you have to leave the dorm in such haste? Even left the toffees and pebbles on your night desk. I kept it for you when I thought you'd come back sooner. The frog was here, too. It croaked and whistled, jumping around the dorm and scaring the other girls. Then the janitor took it out the day after you left. And eventually I hid away the pebbles, ate the toffees. I accepted that I wouldn't feel the warmth of rough hands, showing me pieces of the outside for a long time to come.

There were no answers to the rest of my questions until graduation, and I saw you for the first time in a while. Your hair is fully tied to a side bun, the tiny freckles had faded, your hands rested on the hat on your lap. You wore an intricate suit that even I would have never guessed fitted you. You stood out amongst the black and white crowd as an indigo pawn. You looked far older, mature for our age; As if you had graduated years before. But I still saw the softness in your face, the baby face still made you look like the reckless child you were long ago. You looked…elegant and mysterious. Were you the same deskmate I grew up with all these years?

You graduated with us. A "special student'" like the principal called you once. They announced that you had become the first "Timekeeper" in the Foundation, a title of reverence and importance. You tipped your hat forward and placed your closed fist on your chest, finally speaking. "May the peace be with us." Those were the first words I heard in your low, gentle, and firm voice.

After that, you disappeared. Worked diligently, but left no trace around the Foundation until you came back to report weekly. We never spoke to each other until that fateful week in London, and the time that passed after that. Back then I did not understand what that title meant, but I do now. It sparked new questions full of wonder. And that wonder came with its concerns.

What did you really see outside? In the "Storm"? How much more did you lose? What will it take to break from the weight of the world on your shoulders? When will you realize it's okay to be vulnerable again?

More and more questions arise the more you shroud yourself into melancholic mystery. Perhaps, as time passes, all these will be answered and land into place.

But for now, I just want to spend more time with you, and rebuild what we lost. Make up for what could've been and discover new things together again.

#reverse 1999 #vertin #sonetto #vernetto #i wrote this roughly a month prior to today #angst #sonetto just wondering #pondering and reminsicing

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hellfirenacht · 27 days

Text

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Chapter Summery: You get a new (old) car! That should help you get around Hawkins... right?

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw

Work Count: 2.8 k

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

The junk car that you managed to scrape together a couple hundred dollars for worked well enough for the first two weeks. It had no heating, no radio, the seats were uncomfortable, and there was a lingering scent that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you tried to clean it, but it drove you to the Hideout and the high school, and to the trailer you now called home.

That was until about a half hour ago when the key snapped in the slot to turn the engine on. Could you ever catch a break? Just fucking once while you were here?

You nearly jumped out of your seat and through the roof of your rust bucket when you heard a tap at the window. You looked to see Eddie, frowning at you and you manually cranked down the window.

“Evenin’ officer. How can I help you?” you asked, trying not to sound as defeated as you felt in that moment.

“This is a no parking zone.” He said, leaning over and resting his arms on the open window. It was late November, and the cold was consistent now, but you hardly noticed with how you’d been just staring out the windshield for the past thirty or so minutes. “Neighbors have been sending in complaints.”

You looked behind you at the neighboring trailers. There were at least 2 that had broken down cars within the block, one that’s been sitting on cinder blocks since before you arrived and one that the neighbor had been working on for a few weeks on and off. Other cars were scattered and parked near their own trailers, haphazardly.

“I’ll be sure to move it.” you said, more dry than intended.

“So why are you sitting out here in your car, staring out into space?” Eddie asked and looked out the way your car was facing, as if trying to see if there was anything interesting in that general direction. There wasn’t.

“Car’s broke.”

“How broke?”

You held up the piece of plastic where your key had been attached to.

“So the car’s fine, but the key broke.” Eddie clarified.

“Is there a difference?” You asked.

“There is. If the car was busted then you’d be fucked out of this rust bucket-”

“Eddie, you can’t say things like that.-” you rubbed your face, now feeling the cold in the contrast to the warmth in your cheeks.

“What I’m saying is I can help.” He continued. “Do you have any tools?”

“Uhhh....”

“Follow me.”

You got out of the car, not bothering to roll the window back up, and followed Eddie back to his trailer across the park. It wasn’t a long walk, you had already come to visit your friend more than a few times since you moved in. You felt a little bad, you found yourself spending time at Eddie’s place more than your own.

“So, what brought you to my end of the park?” you asked as the two of you walked. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost that wouldn’t fully commit to snow or ice.

“Boredom.” he said honestly. “I fried my brain trying to learn this new riff I’ve been working on and I needed a break.”

“New song for the set?” You asked. “It’s about time, I get that one Judas Priest song is a staple, but you’ve beaten it into the ground at this point.”

“Prowler isn’t going anywhere as long as it’s the one song everyone can play consistently.” Eddie protested. “And it’s a new original song I’m working on.”

“That’s actually really cool.” you followed him into his slightly warmer trailer and watched as he opened a tiny closet and pulled out a tool box. “How many original songs do you have?”

“Three and a half.” Eddie said. “We uh.. We started with a song that Ronnie and I wrote together. We don’t play that one anymore, but we’ve got one other song, and this one that I’m working on now.”

“Why don’t you play the first song?” You asked as you followed him back out.

Eddie’s face went stoic for a moment, staring at the dirty green toolbox. “It just didn’t work out.” he finally said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t interested in talking about the song. “The second song is called Litch and if Jeff can commit to learning the vocals then we’d actually be able to play it at the Hideout at some point. They always hesitate on playing our original songs.”

“I’d like to hear your original stuff at some point.” you said, following him back out into the cold.

“If I can get the guys to commit, then you’ll hear it at some point.” Eddie said, leading the way back to your car.

There were times where the two of you couldn’t shut up for five seconds, and then there were times where the silence between the two of you was deafening. Sometimes you felt like you were getting somewhere with your friendship with Eddie, and sometimes... sometimes you wondered if he thought about you at all when you weren’t around.

He came over to see you. Of course he thinks about you. You told yourself, watching the subtle way his hair moved as the two of you walked together.

Eddie hopping into the driver seat of your car and you moved into the passenger side seat next to him, with the toolbox between the two of you. He immediately pulled out some pliers and started messing with the key slot, trying to get the broken bit of metal out.

You focused on his face, watching the way his eyes narrowed in concentration and the way his tongue subtly poked out from between his lips. That was something you noticed he did a lot. His brows were furrowed and from your angle it almost gave him a unibrow until he moved his fringe to the side. It was a little longer than it had been in the past two months and you wondered how often he cut it.

“Shit.” he muttered and leaned back against the seat, his hands resting on the wheel. “Yeah, it’s really jammed in there.”

“So I’m fucked out of this rust bucket?” you asked, frowning.

“I... there’s another option.” Eddie said, staring at the wheel. “It’s not a smart option. It’d be stupid, actually and not really safe. And I’d have to do something not completely within the letter of the law.”

You paused and stared at him. “Don’t you sell special K to high schoolers?”

“That was once and I overcharged them.” Eddie said. “I save that for a different clientele.”

For now. You thought.

“So, what’s the illegal method you have to help me with my car?” you asked.

Eddie took a deep breath and seemed to refuse to look at you. “We can hotwire it.”

“Hotwire... I’m sorry, what?” you looked at him surprised. “You know how to hotwire a car?” Had that been part of the show? You really wished that you had watched season four more than once over a year ago. It didn’t help that the longer you stayed here, the less you seemed to remember. You had your private box and notebook tucked away in your closet under a blanket, but you only pulled that out when you absolutely had to. Paranoia stopped you from reading everything too closely, and the idea of being caught with the things in that box... you shuddered to think about what would happen and how you’d explain yourself.

Eddie didn’t say anything for a moment before he pulled a screwdriver from the toolbox. “It’s up to you. I can hotwire the car and teach you how to start it up like that, or you can call a tow and pay to have the key fixed.”

You thought about the options for a while, you were already eating ramen for most of your meals to pay for the car. The car clearly wasn’t worth more than the couple hundred you had paid for it, and you really were convinced that you’d overpaid for it.

Fuck it.

Eddie wasn’t gentle with the way he ripped open the dashboard and he started pointing out the different wires. You did stop him for a moment to grab a sheet of paper to write it down. Eddie insisted that after you’ve done it once, you wouldn’t need the cheat sheet, but you weren’t going to take any chances.

“So.. how’d you learn to do this?” you asked as he rubbed two wires together, flicking them almost. You didn’t think he’d answer, but then the car suddenly rumbled to life and he actually smiled, looking proud of himself.

“My dad.” Eddie explained. “We didn’t exactly have a traditional relationship growing up. Some kids got birthday parties and trips to the zoo, I got lessons on hotwiring cars and trips to the bar to learn cheap tricks for money. That only lasted until I was about ten when I stopped being small and cute.”

“Shit.” you said, looking at him, trying to decide on how you’re supposed to respond to that lore that was just dropped on you. Eddie didn’t open up often, and this had to be a sign of trust, right? “...Want me to fight your dad?”

Eddie snorted at your question. “I bet my uncle would take you up on that.” he shook his head. “No reason to, I haven’t seen him in years. He’s probably in jail right now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been locked up.”

“Want me to break in and beat him up anyway?” you offered. “I’m sure I could figure it out.”

“Your stealth rolls are shit.” he said.

“You sound like Gareth. What I can or can’t do in D&D is completely different from what I could do in real life.” you said.

“And how exactly do you plan on sneaking in to beat up my dad?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.

“I’ll walk in, bat my eyelashes, and ask to visit him. Then when he’s in front of me I start swinging.” you punched your own hand for good measure.

“I’m pretty sure you have to be a relative to visit someone in jail.” Eddie said. “And I’m not exactly itching to see him again, even if you decide to start a fight.”

“Okay, so my car is now on.” you said, on a roll now. “Hear me out, Eddie. You and I go to the courthouse right now and get married- I said hear me out, I’m not done-. I take your last name, use that to get into the prison to visit your dad, and then I can beat him up. I leave, we get divorced, we split with all of our own shit since we don’t have kids or shared property. Easy.”

Eddie rubbed his cheek as he laughed. “Bad idea, you’d be stuck with my last name. Munson doesn’t really get you anywhere in this town.”

“‘Lipton’ isn’t exactly doing me any favors either.” you pointed out. “Go big or go home, Eddie.”

“You are home.” he motioned to the trailer.

You weren’t, and you didn’t think you’d ever be again.

“So, is that a no on marriage?” you asked, leaning close to him with your hand over your heart. You gave him your best pout. “I’m heartbroken.”

“You were only going to marry me to get to my dad.” He gives you a playful shove away from him.

“Yeah, but you’d be a bonus.” you said, blurting out the words without thinking. Ah, fuck, you weren’t supposed to be flirting. Flirting was a bad idea, a very very bad idea. You had made the decision a while ago that it was a bad idea.

If he turned you down, it could be awkward and that could fuck up your chance to save him. If he dated you and it went badly that would make your chances worse.

Focus on the mission, and not the way Eddie sounds when he laughs or how impossibly pretty his eyes are get your shit together and stop that-

“Nice to know you think I’m such a prize.” Eddie said casually, maybe a little too casually for how he usually talked.

“When we divorce you can use that to fuel your music. I look forward to hearing the break-up album.” You tried to smooth your genuine flirting over by committing to the bit.

“If I ever sell out, I’ll write our divorce album.” Eddie replied. “Until then, I’ll stick with singing about Hell and demons and references to my campaigns.”

You don’t know why the idea of him writing songs about his campaigns made your stomach explode with butterflies, but it did. Maybe it was because you were now part of the campaigns and knowing that made you feel special. Like you were actually a part of something, part of him.

Stop that.

“Oh shit, I was actually doing something.” you realized and shook your head. “Right, I wasn’t just sitting here for fun. I had to go get groceries.”

“That would explain why you were sitting in here when I found you.” Eddie agreed. “Do you... Want company?”

He wanted to go grocery shopping with you? That surprised you a lot. It almost felt domestic-

“Yeah, sure.” you agreed, pushing any other thoughts out of your head. “I need you to come anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you showed me how to start the car but you didn’t tell me how to turn it off.”

Eddie laughed and hopped out of the car so that you could scoot back into the driver's seat. He hopped in next to you and it felt like things were swapped now. You had spent weeks in his passenger seat and now he was sitting in yours.

If this was going to be a regular occurrence, you were tempted to slap a BABY ON BOARD sticker on the back of your car.

As you pulled out of the trailer park, Eddie rummaged around his jacket and pulled out a cassette.

“Radio’s broke.” you warned as he stuck the tape in and pushed play. To your surprise, music started playing through the speakers.

“Tape player isn’t.” he said, looking proud of himself. “You can keep this one.”

“Keep...?” you asked. He’d loaned to tapes before, but that was always with the promise you’d return them.

“Yeah, I already have all these songs.” Eddie fidgeted with one of his rings casually. “I thought you might need something to fill the silence. You know, since you’re always coming over to listen to music with me.”

You really did, the quiet of being home alone had been grating on you and you had been spending as much time as you could with Eddie at his place.

“Is this your way of giving me a hint that I’ve overstayed my welcome?” you asked wryly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought.

“No! No, not that.” Eddie said quickly. “No, uh... I just thought you’d like these songs. You told me you liked a few of them.”

“So... you made me a mixtape?” you asked, trying to remain calm despite the fact that your brain was screaming.

“I had some time to kill, and you were complaining about not having anything to listen to so...” he shrugged.

Maybe you’d ask him to marry you for real. You didn’t even had a tape player, or anything other than your car to listen to it but you didn’t care.

Next up, get a tape player for Emergency Vecna Use. And batteries. All the batteries. You added to the endless list of to-do’s to prepare you for Hawkins High’s Spring Break.

“Thank you.” you said, feeling genuinely touched that he went out of his way to do that for you. “Really. I’ll listen to it until it disintegrates.”

“I’ll make you a new one when that happens.” Eddie promised.

Conversations drifted back into easy territory after that. Hellfire, dungeons and dragons, comics, work. It felt so easy talking to him in these moments when it was just the two of you. It had been so long since that first disastrous hang out session, but somehow he’d still let you keep hanging out.

You wished that things could be different.

For now, you just decided to do what you did best when hanging out alone with him. You pretended that your ID was legitimate, that you were some vague relative of his drug supplier, and that you two could be normal friends, doing normal things.

For now, that would have to be enough.

Reader ==> Learn How to Hotwire a Car was submitted by my Green Heart Anon <3

So what would you like to see Reader do next?

Tumblr User ==> Leave A Suggestion

Dividers by @strangergraphics

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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mittysins · 1 year

Text

Newt at Home

Includes: Trans mpreg, graphic labor and orgasmic birth

I'm so glad I was able to get this finished! First Mayternity, in the bag. Of course I needed to use Newt for this. I'm so proud that I've actually managed to complete a seasonal art piece. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

[FIND THE UNCENSORED ART ON TWITTER]

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

Okay, I'm not going to lie and say I'm not kind of freaked out. I'm standing in the kitchen wearing a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, quickly scribbling down the time in my notebook.

10:56 PM. I've been in labor for 10 hours, at least. I couldn't really tell at first, thinking the twinge in my lower abdomen was just Braxton Hicks. I ate my lunch and had a nap without a second thought.

Eventually I realized the pain wasn't going away, in fact it was introducing a new pressure in my hips that I was frankly not a fan of. Okay. So that’s how it is.

I started by emailing my professor. Just a vague mention of a family emergency, and that I was going to need an extension on an upcoming essay.

Continuing on, I sent a quick “baby’s on her way!” to the group chat where my friends were dicking around as they usually did. I laughed at their excited responses as I tapped my pen on the paper. Newest contraction started 43 seconds ago. I was doing just fine.

Then to get down to business. I blessed my past self for having half a mind to have everything ready a month beforehand. Everything I needed was in the bottom drawer of the baby’s dresser. A few old towels, a package of training pads, and settled neatly on top was a pair of sterile clamps and scissors within blue plastic packaging. I felt my heart skip a beat when I opened the drawer to set everything up. This was actually happening.

It was a waiting game from then on. Which is how I ended up here. My contractions are now 4 minutes apart and it's really starting to set in. My chest burns in a weird way, most likely a result of binding for years. I accepted the lung damage a long time ago, and it seems to be making itself well known as my breathing grows increasingly ragged. I can't quite keep my legs together anymore with that ever-present weight on my pelvis. It feels like something is about to give at any second. I assume it’s my water, honestly I figured it would have broken by now. I let out a long sigh as the contraction ends and set down the pen. I sway my hips as I flip through the notebook on the counter in front of me. Written on the first page is the date my pregnancy test was positive as well as a few phone numbers. I can still see a few splotches of faded numbers where my tears had mixed with the ink of my favorite pen. The next few pages were symptoms, weight, my medications including my testosterone gel. Everything medical. I was so scared all those months ago, it almost makes me anxious to look back on those pages. I prefer to look at the middle of the notebook, where I noted when I had gone a week without morning sickness, my first weird craving, the bizarre and vivid dreams I was having. My favorite was the page dedicated to name suggestions. All my friends took turns scribbling down names they liked, laughing and teasing each other as we crossed some out and circled others. It isn't too long before I flip to my current page and glance at my phone.

11:00 on the dot.

I bite my lip and continue my swaying with a firm grip on the counter. It hurts now. That's not to say it didn't hurt before, but now it's getting intense. Each clawing contraction feels like a band being tightened around my entire lower abdomen. It's enough to keep me tensed up with my head bowed for its entirety, until finally, finally, there's that give.

I let out a soft groan as my water breaks. It's not a huge gush like in the movies, more of like a gentle pop followed by a steady stream of fluid that lasts a few seconds. I take a moment to assess my situation. Pants need to come off, obviously, but after that? I couldn't quite decide. I weigh my options as I wattle back to my room and remove my sweatpants, tossing them into a laundry pile I'd designated to this whole ordeal. I could lay in bed with a pillow between my knees and just… wait. I quickly toss that option when I realize how little I've sat still since I even realized I was in labor. A shower sounds nice, the wetness between my legs is less than pleasant and the water on my back would be helpful. I could set up a spot on the couch, just throw down some waterproof pads and a towel or two and labor there, maybe get some last minute work done.

I tense up. Oh, now this is different. I subconsciously bend my knees a little as the contraction reaches its peak. The release of pressure when my water broke was heavenly, but the respite didn't last long. Instead the pressure returned, now bringing with it an intense fullness resting just at the base of my pelvis. I grimace as I feel more fluid trickle between my thighs. Shower it is.

I watch the clock switch to 11:04 as the contraction lets up.

It's a short walk across the hall to get to my bathroom. I realize how sensitive my nipples are when I peel off my shirt. I flush at the sound I make when the fabric drags, sending a jolt down my spine. I'm getting worked up and my heart rate quickens for a moment. I turn the faucet tab and slowly drag myself into the tub, letting the warm water run down my back and legs. For a few moments it feels like routine again. Just me and my baby. No college, no work, no bills, no angry parents. Just me, lowering myself to my knees in the shower, my baby burrowing dangerously low in my pelvis with the next contraction.

It's hard to keep track of time from then on. I'm sort of just zoning out a lot, concentrating closely with each new wave of pain and letting my mind wander in the steeply decreasing downtime. Eventually I’m talking aloud to her, telling her how loved she already is, that she can come on out when she’s ready, that I'm so excited to finally meet her. That I'm ready. My mindless blabbering stops when I feel a very sudden shift.

Before I realize it I'm openly groaning into the air with the gripping contraction. It all just got very real, and I can feel myself becoming frantic. The increase in pressure was maddening, and no amount of shifting and rolling my hips would relieve it. My last contraction was at most a minute ago. I don't have long at all. I decide to push, just the tiniest bit, at the end of the contraction. It's just a little shove, I don't even hold my breath. Just enough to try it out and get a feel for the sensation. If she’s coming, she's coming. If she’s not, what happens? I wait a little longer and try again?

Another timid nudge.

Yeah, she’s definitely coming.

As soon as the contraction lets up I turn off the shower and heave myself out to towel off. I almost want to jump out of my skin I'm so excited. A quick collection of my shirt, phone and towel and I’m waddling back into my room, haphazardly tossing them on my bed. I decide to wait until after the next contraction to climb up onto my bed and really get this show on the road. When I get a look at myself in the full length mirror near my dresser I have a chance to catch my breath. My taught belly has noticeably dropped, basically screaming to the world what was about to happen. I'm flushed and sweaty and my wet hair is still sticking to my forehead. I’m all out of sorts, but I couldn't care one bit what I look like right now. Baby couldn't care less either. That telltale tightening grips me again, and when it begs for me to push along with it, I deepen my stance into a half-squat and bare down.

It almost feels… good? It's a very odd sensation but it feels like such a release to finally get to work with the pressure instead of against it. Two firm pushes in front of the mirror and I decided my bed was there if I needed it. Instead, I swipe a training pad from the package and lay it down on the floor in front of the mirror before stepping onto it. And I wait. At this point I'm so eager to push it’s hard to focus on anything else. I slowly lower myself down to be half kneeling, one foot propped up to let my hips open. I suck in a deep breath, and just like that I'm stuck in a contraction and pushing so hard I see my face go red. Exhale, inhale, push like hell. So it goes.

It only takes a few good pushes to feel something hard and very noticeably large lodged in my birth canal. Between pushes one of my hands dips down and curiously prods at my lips. I don't know what I was expecting to feel, she’s definitely not there yet, but nevertheless I’m a lot more sensitive than usual. I feel perpetually slick now considering I've been leaking little by little for the last hour and a half. But that's not just it. The past twelve hours have been the most in-tune I've ever felt with my body, like we’re finally working towards the same goal of giving birth to my daughter safely and calmly. The excitement and the love mixed with the fullness of her head moving downward almost became ecstasy. One accidental brush to my sensitive clit and I'm shivering. The sudden rush of pleasure triggers a contraction and I weakly push through it. Once the contraction ends my fingers slip into my birth canal. I was disappointed for a moment when I didn't feel anything.

Until I did. About two and a half knuckles deep, there was the hard, slimy ball I had been working down for the past twelve hours.

Oh my fucking god, that’s my baby.

I was awestruck. Just allowing the pads of my middle and ring fingers to press against her head was enough to have me grinning like an idiot.

Returning my hand to its place on my knee, I bore down again with the upcoming contraction. This time a low groan escapes my throat and I find myself leaning forward just the slightest bit. Looking in the mirror, I become fixated on the bulge forming behind my lips. I'm leaking fluid considerably now, and I'm grunting out little pushes when I swear I see a dark sliver start to part my folds. I only saw it for a split second. My hand dips between my legs once more and I press a finger into my lips. Sure enough, just out of sight rests my baby’s head. The quick progress I made surprises me, and I let out a breathy laugh as I trace my fingers back up to my dick. The warm tingling in my belly when I rub a few experimental circles into the swollen nub quickly melts my grunts into soft moans. My breath quickens. I was expecting this to be horribly painful, yet here I am moaning with the next contraction. All I can focus on in the mirror is the sight of my lips parting for my baby’s head. I moan through the stretch of my perineum, letting my pleasure bring me higher as I watch my lips pull out into a teardrop shape.

My rubbing has found a steady pace, and my hips buck a bit. I'm close, I can tell, and I feel the head continue to push my lips open. That burn is starting to set in. Another firm push.

I almost yelp when the head stretches me to a full crown, but I find myself so awestruck by the sight that I fail to make any noise at all. My rubbing continues as there the head stays. The burn is searing. Until finally, the release of my orgasm carries me blissfully as the head surges forward with a gush.

I kneel there for a moment, legs shaking and eyes fluttering, as I process what just happened. The aftershocks distract me through the next contraction, giving me time to gather myself. I can see it in the mirror, my baby’s head hanging out of me as it's supported in my hands. A sob rips from my throat as my fingers wander, feeling her tiny ears and nose.

“Oooh-kaaaaay.” I breathe, shaking off the numb tingly feeling that accompanied my orgasm. My fingers fumble around the baby’s neck, quickly untangling the umbilical cord and pulling over her head.

After lifting myself up to standing, the short few steps that should have been my journey to my bed became a quest. I knew I had no chance of closing my legs at this point, so it's a slow shuffle making my way over with shaky legs and a hand between them to support my baby. Climbing up onto the mattress isn't much easier, but I eventually manage to sit up against my pillows, legs butterflied out. From there I wait.

“Come on, kiddo.” I encourage. “I’m ready, you can come out now.” I wiggle my hips and give a tiny push, trying to get her to turn.

Once she does, I'm all in. My hands find purchase behind my knees and I pull back, red in the face as I push as hard as I can for the shoulders. The way I'm sitting, I don’t even need the mirror to see. I watch as my swollen lips spread around the first shoulder, then the other with a small spurt of fluid, and then-

I barely have time to catch her as with the last push, the rest of the baby spills out with a gush.

“Oh my god-” I sputter out as I lift the infant to my chest. As soon as she touches my skin, she begins wailing. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I check her over with wide, misty eyes.

“You are just absolutely perfect, aren't you?”

I giggle at her squirming attempt to get comfortable. So that’s what’s been keeping me up at night.

The ache sets in quickly, and I make quick (quick enough) work of delivering the afterbirth, cutting the cord and making sure we were both cleaned up and warm. Once I'm in a pair of sweatpants and back with her on my bed, I lay her back down on my bare chest, opting for a light blanket to wear cape-style and cover us both. I'm absolutely awestruck.

“Alright, we’ve given your aunts and uncles enough emotional prep time, don't you think?” I say decidedly to the already-sleeping infant as I unlock my phone, quickly finding the “video call” button in the group chat.

I'm grinning like an idiot as three of my friends join the call at lightspeed, the other two following quickly behind.

“Guys, someone wants to meet you!”

#tmpreg #mpreg #trans pregnancy #birth #birth kink #labor #m draws #pregnancy #nbpreg #birth fic #mayternity

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mortiskiller · 7 months

Text

A companion piece, the feeder perspective to a story by @thefoolandthehermit and I. Make sure to read them both!

It was a short drive to the dispensary, maybe thirty minutes round trip, enough time for the groceries I ordered to be ready for pick up. As I pulled into the driveway, the kitchen light caught my attention. “Silly girl must be hungry after last night.” I thought, grabbing the groceries, every bag bulging with ingredients and treats for my voluptuous growing girl.

The sound of me opening the door stopped her dead in the hall. Thick round and heavy ass cheeks stretched a pair of pink panties to their limits, a drooping pair of love handles covered the waistband of her oh so small panties.

“Princess.” I addressed her, she knew to turn around. Thick pillar-like legs that touched to her calves shifted her jiggling bulk around. A light red spread over her plump peach shaped cheeks as she looked at me, hands filled with a half gallon of chocolate milk and two cold slices of pizza. “You know you’re not supposed to be on your feet today, remember?”

As she chewed on her pizza the sudden realization of our deal came back to her. Today my lardy princess was not supposed to move a muscle besides to eat or use the bathroom. A whole day of being pampered, being lazy, being indulgent. The light red of her cheeks deepened as she realized her mistake. Placing the bags in the kitchen as she finished her pizza and chugged half the milk, my hands gliding over her wide seat filling hips, squeezing her hips as her legs buckle slightly and a breathy moan escapes from between lips still glistening with milky chocolate. I steer her like a cow grazing in a pasture, she knows she as no choice in the matter, it's not like the 400 plus pound princess can protest anyway.

She has been talking about this day all week. A day off work and a day for me to remind her that she was my feedee. My growing, thickening, cow.

I spin her around and sit her down onto the couch, aiming for the dent her sixty five inch hips have catered into it. Her belly and tits jiggle as she falls into the dent, the usual chorus of creaking wood and grating metal greeting her prodigious bulk.

“The couch could not break anymore.” she said looking at me with a slight hope she was not too big. A slight smile crossed my face as I kissed her forehead, “We’ll see…”.

In a short time the coffee table in front of her is filled end to end with the bounty of the grocery store. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and her favorite, a heaping mound of chicken and waffles. Her eyes look to be fucking the food as her tongue licks plump lips, her chubby hands and sausage fingers rub a gut that spills across her thighs and on to her knees. I could see she wanted to leap off the couch and kiss me, like she did 200 pounds ago, but instead her loving eyes drew me to sit down as her favorite bong was pressed into her pudgy belly. Her hips flowed into my side, warm plush fat sending a shiver up my spine.

Over the next hour I took turns bringing the bong to her lips and shoving in forkfuls of food as the weed dulled her sense of time and space. My plan was to get her so high she loses all control and gives in completely to me. Each bite is followed by a deep hit of the bong. No exhaling, just swallowing and chewing.

As the last bite of waffle passed her sticky lips, her groans and gentle moos filled the living room. In just under an hour my SSBBW cow had finished a breakfast big enough for a family of five and smoked two grams of weed. Eyes closed, leaned back into her ass groove, as her hands rubbed and kneaded her tight belly. She was so lost in the stuffing she did not notice me grab her vape pen. Loaded inside was a new flavor of high potency THC, just what I needed to make her mine for the day. A fuzzy headed cow mooing for more food.

The cold metal of the pen touched her lips, “Take a hit now.”. Her lips curl around the tip, inhaling deeply as she takes a large hit. I can tell the weed is hitting her hard. Her eyes open wide as the effects take hold. What little hold on reality she had is slipping. Her hands gripped her bulging upper belly as greed took over. In a matter of minutes she is begging for more food.

Bag of chips and candy, plates of grilled cheese and bowls of soup, half a dozen boosts disappear into her cavernous gut as the weed keeps her fuzzy and greedy.

Rubbing her belly as she chugs the last boost, I marvel at her size. Her belly is so tight and firm, but the lower belly rolls are soft as butter, spreading over her thighs like an avalanche of creamy stretch mark covered blubber. I take time to massage her taut belly, kneading it to compact all the food down so her weed addled brain thinks she is hungry again. A roaring blech brings her back to some semblance of reality as I continue making room for her to eat. “Daddy, is it lunch time?”. She asks through barely opened eyes blurry and red from the immense amount of THC pulsing around her body. I chuckle slightly thinking that she thinks hours have flown by, instead of the two since her breakfast feeding session. It's barely past ten in the morning.

As my hands push gas out of her our, both ends of her showing the effects of eating ten thousand calories in three hours, I lean into her yielding form and whisper, “You need more, baby. You're not ready yet. I need you so much fatter. More fuzzy brained, more obedient.”. I bring the pen back to her lips and leave it there till she takes a deep, long, hard hit. My other hand snakes between her thighs, I feel them wiggle and squeeze my hand. “Is my cow getting hungry and horny?” thick warm honied words fill her ear. She takes another deep hit of the pen. "That's it, get nice and dumb piggy. Just how I like you." Taking the pen away her head falls back as she moans and moos, she always does this when her brain is soaked in weed, arousal, and dopamine from being fed.

I take my time to grope her fattening body, licking and kissing each stretch mark, tasting her mouth and the flavors of her meals. The oven dings to let me know the pan of brownies is done. As I bring the warm, gooey and heavy pan laden with enough butter, sugar, and chocolate to kill a normal person, her mouth is hanging open. I see my opening and start shoving in hunks of brownie by the handful. She doesn't resist, just a dumb smile between bites as she paws at her FUPA and thighs. Just how I like her, stuffed and so horny she is an eating machine.

The last handful I scrape out of the pan and into her mouth brings a rumble for her stomach. I can feel her belly shake as it begs for more food. The piggy's belly wants more. Such a deeply arousing moment for a feeder brings a grunt from my mouth. "Such a perv." she laughs and I smirk at her.

"Says the half naked fatty, eating and smoking whatever I give her." a familiar crimson shoots across her cheeks. My hands pull her thighs apart, causing her gut to drop between her legs. A gasp rips out of her mouth followed by a deep throaty moan as the full force of her obesity hits her. She is quiet after that.

This continued for hours. Between naps to settle her stomach and give me time to prepare meal after meal, she was an absolute blimp by the end of the night. The appetite enhancers, shakes, weed, and mountains of food had rendered her immobile on the couch, at least until she could sleep for 24 hours. When I would use the bathroom or run to the pantry for something, her sweaty wheezing face would show me the futile attempts to move.

She was too high, too fat, dependent on whatever I wanted to do next. After today, her body would convert this gluttony into new heavy immobilizing fat. Hanging sheets of lard that would make it easier and easier to feed her into a couch locked sow that could only eat, smoke, and groan. She lies there clutching her gravid looking belly, soothing it like a heavily pregnant woman, instead of a morbidly obese whale. As the food settled into her stomach, mixing and churning, every minute I could see her body struggle to hold the thirty thousand calories into her gut.

The rocking back and forth of her hips told me she was unbearably horny. Under her hanging gut and hefty FUPA I can almost hear her genitals begging to be used.

As I stood in the kitchen getting her dessert ready, a loud crack followed by her yelling for Daddy. I ran over to her looking over the immensity of her body, she had broken the couch and the splinters were under her ass. The sow was sitting on the floor!

"I told you you'd break it.." I say standing at the door way chuckling. "Look at you, whiney and dumb. Bet you don't even understand that it was your fat ass that's broken the couch". She shakes her head, then slowly realizes it was her beluga sized ass and gut that broke it.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. Please help me up, please!. I want to go to the bedroom! I want you to touch me!" she pleads as her flabby arms wave and beg for me to lift her up. Leaning over her, rubbing circles around her navel and holding a box of jelly donuts, her eyes see the dozen fried sugar bombs and her gut growls again.

"You're not going anywhere my sweet." I flip the box open and without hesitation shove a jelly filled donut sloppily into her mouth. My hand covers her mouth, making sure she can't even think about not swallowing the whole thing. She was so insatiable,her eating sounded like a fucking orgy. Wet squelching of her fat lips coated in thick layers of jelly and pastry, her moans from a packed mouth of fried dough and sugar, the high pitched screams as she pawed her hidden genitals.

So focused on eating and taking the next doughnut whole, she failed to notice me spreading her legs, nibbling the soft sensitive flesh of her thighs.

"More! Please!" she pleads and her words are met, another donut shoved into her mouth as I suck her buried clit. "Fuck!" muffled by pastry and lust comes from her lips. Her clit leaked into my mouth, I could swear it tasted like icing.

"Cum on my face baby, you can cum as much as you want, you just have to keep eating." I say bringing another doughnut to her lips. Once the two donuts were gone there was little reprieve for her clit and her belly. I could tell the fast pace and force of the feeding was making her stuffed again and this was only donut three of twelve. Her thighs tensing around my head let me know a second orgasm was ripping through her body.

Parting her legs, I kissed her deeply, "Keep eating princess, I promise if you finish it all Daddy will make you feel so good. I'll make sure I breed you nice and deep." my hand slaps her churning screaming gut and a belch loudly followed by a pained moan with hints of arousal.

I giggle at her "There's my growing girl. Now, have another donut. I'm not done with you and I won't be for a while-"

#audio #feedist audio #feedist fiction #wg audio #wg fiction #wg story #weight gain #male feeder #belly play #feedee girl #chubby

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m4da1yn · 1 year

Text

Sucking My Love || L.U.

I was listening to Lightning To The Nations by Diamond Head while writing this, so it’s based off of that album :)

summary: you get high and suck your boyfriend off to sucking my love by diamond head.

A/N: I edited this 6/26/23, just small grammatical mistakes were fixed. Nothing big.

word count: 1,784

You’re laying with your long-time boyfriend, Lars Ulrich. The two of you were laying on the couch of your living room apartment, your new ‘lightning to the nations’ record playing softly in the background. Lars had gotten it for your birthday a few weeks back because you and him were both avid Diamond Head fans.

You noticed the small baggie of weed sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You and Lars had smoked a few bowls nearly an hour and a half ago, so your high was practically gone. You sat up, grabbing the baggie of weed. Lars noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and perked up. You lifted yourself up off of the couch and began heading to your bedroom. You didn’t have to tell Lars to follow you because this was a regular thing.

You walked into the dimly lit room, spotting your pipe and lighter. You sat down on the bed. A few seconds later, Lars sat down. Nobody had spoken the entire few minutes, which made it feel like an eternity. The room was awkwardly quiet, so you decided to say something.

“Do you want the first hit, Lars?” you asked, breaking the deafening silence.

Lars shook his head, his brownish hair fluttering. “No. Your idea, you first.”

You smiled at the remembrance of the silly rule the two of you had randomly come up with one night. You reached for the baggie. You struggled opening it, the sweet yet skunky smell of marijuana punches your nostrils. You stopped for a second to smell the bag. That had always been your guilty pleasure, smelling the bag of weed before actually smoking it. Lars laughed into his hands, shaking his head. “Wacko.”

“Stop.” You demanded, trying your best to sound annoyed with him. Your boyfriend knew you all too well, though. He could see the smile creeping on your face.

You began breaking some pieces off of the flower and placing them in your grinder. Once there was enough weed for the both of you, you put the top on your grinder and started grinding up your weed.

The first track of the record comes to an end, ‘The Prince’ next up. Lars began softly drumming the beat on his legs. That was his favorite track on the record.

You put the weed in the bowl, bringing it up to your mouth. You lit it quickly and took a long drag. The smoke pierced your lungs. It took a great deal of you not to cough.

You took another, smaller drag from the bowl. You passed the bowl to Lars. You sat there for nearly 10 seconds before he actually took it because of his leg-drumming.

You smiled. “Lars, you’re such a dork.”

Lars does nothing but smile, bringing the bowl up to his mouth. He took a hit, finishing off the bowl and blowing the smoke towards the window.

Your high began to hit you. You felt that wave of calmness slowly wash over your body. That feeling you loved dearly/ Starting at your feet and then slowly creeping up your legs, your spine, all the way up to your head. You loved this part.

Lars cleared his throat, disrupting you from your thoughts. “Can you put more weed in here please?” He asked softly.

You nod, putting more weed into the bowl. You handed it back to your boyfriend. He took a few drags, finishing the bowl before handing it back to you again. You put the bowl and lighter back on your nightstand.

The two of you sat in a not-so awkward silence again.

Lars scooted over so that your legs were now touching. You could feel the heat emitting off of his hands as he began tapping along to the song on your thigh. It was purely innocent in his eyes, however in your eyes it was all but. “D’ya wanna go watch something on the television?”

You knew what he said but you failed to actually hear. Your brain was absolute mush. The dirty thoughts began flowing. Any and all coherent thoughts of yours were now just floating around, somewhere above your head. Somewhere you couldn’t see them.

All you could think about is where else you wanted those fingers.

You couldn’t do anything but nod your head. Lars stood up, sticking his hand out for you to grab. Butterflies began dancing around in your stomach. You intertwined your fingers together, pulling yourself up from the bed. You followed him out to the living room, hands still intertwined. Even something so simple as holding hands with Lars was enough to make your heart skip a beat. ‘The Prince’ came to an end. You knew exactly what song would be coming next. Sucking My Love.

You had an overwhelming urge to give your boyfriend head to this song, it’s been a little fantasy of yours since you had first heard it. The moaning part in the middle was… Well. Crazy hot.

You and Lars sat back down on the couch, practically the same position as previously. He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned the tv on. He began flipping through the channels, trying to find something that you both liked.

The thoughts began racing through your mind again. All morals you had were now on Mars. You cleared your throat. “Lars,” you whisper.

His gaze doesn’t move from the television. “Hi baby,”

You paused for a moment, analyzing the side of his face. Your boyfriend was pretty, no doubt. The next thing that came out of your mouth wasn’t something you’d typically say. “I want to suck your dick.” You whispered, scooting closer to him.

You knew he didn’t hear what you said because if he did, he wouldn’t have stayed in the same position for as long as he did. “Say that a little louder, I can’t hear you when you whisper.”

“Shut up. Kiss me.” You pulled your hand away from his. You wrapped your right arm around the back of him, snaking your hand down the front of his body. You used your other hand as support on his jaw, planting wet kisses on the side of his face. He immediately dropped the remote on the floor, moving his hair out of your way so you’d have better access to his neck.

You follow his cue, kissing his neck and trying to find his sweet spot. He had let you know that you’d found the spot when he let out a low groan.

“You are really horny, aren’t you?” He laughed slightly, trying not to groan. You smile against his neck.

Lars stretched his body out, revealing his happy trail. You remove your hand from his jaw, sliding it slowly down his body, stopping at his waistband.

You stopped kissing his neck and began kissing his lips. You moved your legs so that they were on either side of his legs, grinding on his pelvis ever so slightly. Lars bucked his hips upward. He was just as needy as you.

Lars slipped his tongue into your mouth. He slid his hand up the back of your shirt, unclasping your bra. You attempted to take it all the way off whilst still kissing, but was failing. He helped you slip the bra all the way off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. The two of you continued kissing whilst helping each other undress, only disconnecting lips for no more than 5 seconds when it came to taking your shirts off. The only item of clothing left was Lars’ pants.

You pulled away from a needy Lars, getting off of his lap. You sank down on your knees in front of him, grazing your fingertips across his thigh. Lars stomach churned from the slightest touch of yours. It made him feel absolutely pathetic.

He spread his legs so that you were more comfortable. You felt around his boxers, looking up at him with a lewd smirk on your face. Lars wished that he could take a picture of you like that, an actual picture. It was turning him more than he’d like to admit. His dick was throbbing through his boxers.

He lifted his hips up slightly. You slipped your pointer and middle finger underneath the waistband, not rushing to pull them down. His heart and his dick were throbbing with anticipation.

You pulled his boxers down, letting them fall to his ankles. His hard dick springs up, hitting his crotch area. You’d seen his dick many times before, but this time.. this time seemed different. You were taking it in, analyzing it. His pubes were nicely trimmed. He wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small. The perfect size for your liking.

The anticipation left your body, being replaced with another feeling. Something stronger, something that made your stomach feel funny. You couldn’t quite name the feeling, but shit you sure could feel it.

You spat on your hand, wrapping it around the base of his dick. The other rested on his inner thigh. You brought your mouth to Lars’ tip, giving it a harsh lick before putting what you could fit comfortably in your mouth. Lars had to cover his mouth with his hand or else he’d moan.

You started sucking him off. Lars’ hand naturally flew to your hair, gripping it. He was so turned on at the moment.

He bit down on his bottom lip, “Ohh, fuck.” He groaned.

You were also incredibly turned on. Your cunt was clenching around nothing. You wished that your pussy could be filled with something- anything. his fingers, his tongue, his dick, a sex toy. It didn’t matter what it was.

You pushed your head all the way down to the base of his dick, earning a loud moan out of your boyfriend. His moans were like a trophy to you, like you’d just won a race and this was your first place prize.

He assists you by gently pushing your head up and down. Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes from all of the gagging- you didn’t care at all. Lars used his free hand to wipe them away.

“You’re doing such a good job baby,” he moaned. “Y’gonna make me cum, fuck”

His words encouraged you to keep going. You kept sucking him off, earning more moans and groans from him as he came closer to finishing

“Babe, babe, babe, stop. Stop, get off. Gonna cum- fuck- oh shit-“ he moaned, his other hand flew to your head involuntarily, grasping at your hair. His hips bucked up causing the tip of his dick to hit the back of your throat.

You felt it. With his dick still in the back of your throat, you felt his warm, salty cum spill down inside of you. It coated the back of your throat.

Lars aimlessly jerked his his up into you, looking to thrust deeper inside of you. There was no where else for him to go, yet he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking. If he were to keep going, he’d overstimulate himself; but he couldn’t fucking stop for the life of him. He already felt pathetic enough due to how quickly he came just with your mouth.

You stood up on your knees so that your face is level with his face. Your spit and his cum were dripping off of your chin in strings. Neither of you bothered to wipe it away. You touched your nose with Lars’ nose, who was still breathing heavily. If you listened hard enough, you’d hear his heart beating.

“Holy hell,” Lars panted.

my first fic i’m posting plz be nice 🥲

edit: i’m going to write a part 2 eventually. them being completely naked will make way more sense when i write it HAHA!

#Spotify #lars ulrich #metallica #lars ulrich x reader #lars ulrich smut #metallica smut #diamondhead #x reader #smut

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dearbaji · 2 years

Text

She's Mine (Chifuyu x Reader x Draken)

CW: Cheating, pregnancy, birth, angst, dash of fluff Word count: 1396

Chifuyu sits beside you on the hospital bed, stroking your hair as you lay your head on his shoulder. Your daughter has been in the nursery for almost an hour, allowing you to get some much needed rest. His phone screen lights up on the chair he (barely) slept in during the night, showing his new love's sleeping face along with a caller ID. He gets up slowly, not wanting to disturb you. Denying the call, he sends a text in reply: “5th floor, room 14 come on up :)”

He sinks down next to you again, browsing through and answering previously ignored texts.

Draken’s tall frame emerges from the elevator. As he passes the nurses station, he sets a case of vitamin drinks in front of one of the nurses on the phone. His hands are still full, one holding flowers, balloons, and a teddy bear, the other carrying a bag and another vitamin case. As he approaches your door he knocks gently, not knowing if your baby was sleeping or even in the room. Chifuyu opens the door and lets him in. “Hey, you can sit your stuff down over there. Thanks for coming!” Chifuyu says, motioning towards his area where he stayed for most of your visit. “Of course,” Draken says as he makes his way over to the table by the window, setting down the flowers and the balloons. You groggily open your eyes, barely seeing Draken hand Chifuyu a teddy bear. “Hey Ken, you came,” you say, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, I would’ve come with Mitsuya but I had to handle some stuff at the shop first,” he says smiling down at you. “Is she in the nursery?” “Yeah I’ll go get her!” “No you don’t have to, I’ll come with you to go see her,” “No it’s fine, it’s almost time for her feeding anyway, right babe?” Chifuyu asks. You look at the clock on the wall and nod. “I’ll be right back”. Chifuyu stands on the opposite side of the bed from Draken and leans over to kiss you before he nearly runs out of the room, ready to see his daughter again. Draken pulls up the guest chair next to your bed and sits down. You almost know what’s gonna happen next and you’re dreading it. The thought was pushed down so far you wanted to forget, for it to not be true. Draken looks at you, seriously this time, and asks: “so, when are you gonna tell him that she’s mine?”

“Ken, please don’t start. It was one time-” “But the timing adds up. You two were broken up for a month when we got together. Then 8 and a half months later there’s a baby? There’s no way she’s his kid.” Your eyes start to water as you know he’s telling the truth, it breaks your heart. Chifuyu was a great partner, now a great husband, and so far a great father. When you first broke up 10 months ago it was because he stood you up for the nth time to help out Taemichi, and you’d had enough. Being together for 3 years he still managed to prioritize his friends over you. It was your choice to break up and he begged for you back every week: sending texts, flowers, prepaying for your order at your usual spot, and even leaving cute notes on your door for you to see when you get the mail. One night, you went to Draken’s shop to hang out. You knew he liked you and you liked him as well, but Chifuyu snatched you up first. You remained friends through your relationship, though it did hurt Draken to witness. Late night talks between two people clearly attracted to one another and a missing coworker plus an empty locked shop led to a few pieces of clothing on the floor and a back room filled with grunts and moans. It was one night. You felt guilty afterward for cheating on Chifuyu, even though you weren’t together at that moment, you were considering taking him back. 3 years was a long time to be with someone, and honestly you still loved him. But Draken was there, he told you everything you wanted to hear. He treated you how you wanted to be treated. A few weeks later you felt off, so you took a couple of pregnancy tests. One negative, two positives. You call Chifuyu in hopes of reconciling your relationship and he agrees, you two belong together. He went to your house and you welcomed him with open arms. After a quick dinner you both wanted to make up for lost time. As you held him while he rocked against you in bed, all you could think about is that night with Draken, and the end result. Another couple of weeks later you told Chifuyu you were pregnant. He was over the moon, so ready to be a father, but he wanted to be a husband first. Chifuyu proposed to you then and there, it wasn’t how he originally wanted to do it but it was enough. A simple courthouse wedding with a few friends and immediate family happened before you really started to show, and Draken was there. You kept him updated through the pregnancy without Chifuyu knowing. After each ultrasound and appointment you sent him photos and small updates. Whenever Chifuyu asked about what you were doing you simply replied “just showing my friends our baby”, which technically wasn’t a lie.

Now here you are, torn between two men with a baby and at least one broken heart. Your choice seemed clear, you’ll stay with your husband Chifuyu and raise your daughter together, and sometimes let “uncle Ken” visit or babysit so he’ll still be part of her life. Draken had a different idea: you tell Chifuyu the truth, leave him, and raise your daughter with her biological father. It’s what she deserved at least.

Draken holds your hand as he sees the tears form. “Please, Y/N. I love you. We can raise her together, you can move in with me or we can get a bigger place.” You shake your head and try to blink away the tears. “I can’t Draken. I married Chifuyu. He already signed the birth certificate.” He puts his head down and squeezes your hand, the wedding band shimmered under the hospital lights. “You never said you loved him”. Your head whipped over to look at him. “You said you married him. Not that you loved him.” “No Ken I do, I do lo-” you were cut off by the sound of the door opening. Draken sits up and wipes his face, you move your hand back to your lap. “Here we are! You want your mama don’t you? Yeah?” Chifuyu says as he wheels the cart next to your bedside. The swaddled newborn squirms in the bassinet as Chifuyu picks her up and places her in your arms. He looks at your face and notices your misty eyes. “Woah what’s wrong my love? Are you ok? In any pain? Do you need me to call the nurse?” He panics. “I’m fine. Just missed her is all,” you lie. Chifuyu chuckles and kisses the top of your head. Draken watches as you feed her with Chifuyu by your side. He considers the already established family that he’d be breaking up, but that’s his daughter you’re holding. “Do you wanna hold her once she’s done? Chifuyu asks him, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Uh, sure”. He leaves to wash his hands, ready to finally hold his daughter. While he’s gone, Chifuyu strokes her cheek with his finger. With a shaky breath, you start: “Honey, sit down please”. Chifuyu smiles at you and takes Draken’s previous seat. “Chifuyu, there’s something I have to tell you…”

Rules

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