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#even now writing this i made myself laugh again
mrsparrasblog · 3 days
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Advice from Price
Sometimes it feels strange, but as a writer, it's like the characters you create live in your mind - rent free, and you sense them judging you every move. "Why are you not writing my happy end, babe?" - Kyle. Let's just overlook my midnight thoughts for now. I promise I'll be fully focused next week- finishing the Makarov fic and my requests, but these days have been quite shitty. I had my first final exam today, tomorrow is the state Championship of my Apprenticeship, and I'm having numerous interviews for an exchange year. Anyway, enough rambling.
At times, I think about Price and the advice he shares with me throughout the day- always sitting like an Cartoon Angel on top of my shoulders. I thought maybe I'd share them with you, in case you need advice from Price too :)
If this fic isn't your cup of tea just ignore it I clearly made it for myself and don't want to be judged lol:(
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Overcoming Perfectionism
You: "What if I don't win? What if I'm not the best? What if my grades slip?"
Price: "You're one of the smartest and most capable women I know, if not the smartest and most capable. You've worked hard for those grades, and I'm confident you'll ace whatever test comes your way. But let's entertain the idea that you don't. It wouldn't change how I feel about you one bit. You're already my best girl. You don’t have to be perfect to earn my love, Darling."
You: "Sometimes I feel like if I don't have good grades, I lose the only special part about me. Having good grades is the only thing I can do, and if I fail that, I'll just be ordinary."
Price: (He would sigh at your words, acknowledging your fears even if they aren’t logical to him) "Darling, you're so much more than just your grades. You have a bright personality, you're sweet, kind, and beautiful. No matter what happens, you'll always be special and extraordinary. There's not one thing in the world that could make you ordinary to me."
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Gaining Weight
You: "John, love, I gained weight again," you sighed, looking at your body in the mirror. Of course, you were incredibly beautiful, but sometimes the monsters in your head just didn’t want to shut up.
Price: "Where's the problem?"
You: "You don’t mind?"
Price: He would smile warmly at you, his smile like in the campaign you know what I mean "No, you're already perfect just the way you are. That slight extra meat on your bones makes you even cuter, besides, there's even more of you for me to love and manhandle." He would make you laugh, letting you forget all your concerns.
Needless to say, he showed you just how much he didn’t mind your body. All night.
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kisseobie · 8 hours
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piwon’s reaction to reader squirting? 🫠
p1harmony reacting to making you squirt
pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader
warnings: nsfw (mdni)
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tags: unprotected sex (don’t do this lolz), cunnilingus (fem. receiving), crying, squirting (duh), rough sex, degradation, spanking, fingering, masturbation, mentions of piss, corruption, i think that’s the bulk of it?
a/n: apparently user kisseobie is the biggest whore on the planet bc i started writing this the minute i saw the notification in my inbox.. i couldn’t help myself from doing full fledged reactions sorry …. also i believe in pussy slapping keeho supremacy .. also don’t ask why i wrote so much i wasn’t planning on it….
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❤︎ keeho
the two of you are sat on the soft carpet of keeho’s bedroom, your bare back pressed up against his clothed chest. your boyfriend has one hand tightly holding your face in place, forcing you to stare at the mirror in front of you and watch as his other hand descends between your thighs. his rough fingers gather your slick and you mewl in response, to which he gently pushes his fingers into your cunt. he may be an attentive lover, but he’s not the most patient, and his rigorous pace of fucking his digits into you is almost immediate, causing you to whine and thrash against him. “mm kyo, ‘s too much!” is the only coherent sentence you can get out of yourself as keeho ignores your pleas to slow down, only quickening the pace of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy. your eyes screw shut as your boyfriend’s hot breath hits your right ear, and with his mouth so close to your face, you can properly hear his quiet grunts and curses, the only indication that he’s not nearly as composed as he’s attempting to seem. when he notices that your eyes aren’t on your reflection anymore, he gives your clit a firm spank that makes you scream and jolt in surprise. “fuckkkkkk, no more p-please i can’t take it!!” you squeal, eyes shutting once again, partly because keeho’s assault on your pussy is salivating, and partly because your humiliated, humiliated that he’s capable of forcing you into submission so quickly, and how you sit in front of him fully naked while your boyfriend watches you, fully clothed and composed.
you can’t stop shaking and sobbing against him. he eventually lets you lay your head back on his shoulder as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, but his fingers never still. “look at you,” he coos, “haven’t even stuffed you with my dick yet and you’re drooling all over yourself. you’re so fucking nasty y/n” he taunts, only egging himself on with every insult. if you ignore his command to look at yourself, he once again grabs your chin and forces you to, laughing under his breath at your tears and dumbed out expression as you try your best to listen to your boyfriend’s next words. “need you to come for me, can you do that angel? you gonna cum around my fingers? gonna make a mess all over me?” he sweetly asks you, a heavy contrast to the pad of thumb currently drawing circles into your puffy clit. you can only nod in reply, feeling a more intense orgasm bubbling in your tummy and before you can warn him, keeho lands another slap against your mound that pushes you over the edge. you’re floating, vision white and toes curled as you writhe against kyo’s fingers. minutes pass by and you finally come back to your senses, feeling keeho laying pecks all across your bare shoulders as you slump into him, and that’s when you notice that there are spritz and drops of what seems to be liquid on keeho’s mirror, pooled on the carpet below you, and scattered across the smooth skin of your thighs. you can hear keeho’s heavy pants, and when you turn to apologize for the mess you’ve made, your words get stuck in your threat as you realize that your boyfriend didn’t mind one bit, quite the opposite actually. he’s on top of you in seconds, laying your back against the now damp carpet as he stares at you with a wild, lust-driven look on his face.
“think i can make you squirt around my cock next, pretty?”
“wait kyo! won’t fit, it won’t fit!” is your reply, but do you really think he gives a care in the world? he’ll make it fit, and he’ll draw those waves out from you until you’re both spent and soaked in your sweet juices <3
❤︎ theo
“wait so you’ve never..?”
“nope. i don’t think every girl can”
it started with an unserious conversation about your personal sexual experiences, a topic your new boyfriend was very curious about. for the most part, the atmosphere was lighthearted as you and theo took turns interrogating eachother, but a specific question asked by your boyfriend leads to you admitting that a guy has never made you squirt, much less orgasm before, to which theo shakes his head in denial. he’s hesitant to believe you, half anticipating you to laugh it off and tell him you were just joking. however, when you meet his quizzical look with a blank stare, his mind starts to drift to more dangerous depths. always competitive in nature, taeyang takes your underwhelming sexual past as a challenge, and his demeanor shifts to one consumed by lust within seconds. he suddenly wants to show you everything, wants you to feel better than you’ve ever felt before, wants to mark you as his and become the only boy you could ever desire.
an hour later, he has you bouncing on and creaming his cock, giving you your third orgasm of the night. shows you all he has to offer, from his skillful fingers and tongue, to his massive dick that fills you up so well, so well that a bulge appears in your tummy. he’s addicted to your taste, your moans, your begs, and fucks you so good that it’s almost unbelievable that this is your first time together. slaps your ass and gropes your tits like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. not only is taeyang ridiculously good at sex, he’s also got the dirtiest mouth on him. can’t stop the expletives and praises dripping off his tongue like honey, telling you things like “so tiny, you sure this isn’t your first time sweetheart? if my fingers can’t fit, how are you gonna take my cock, hm?”. is borderline snarling everytime you gasp at a new sensation, and he knows right away that he’s got you hooked. your willingness to take whatever he gives you unlocks a corruption kink in him that he didn’t know was there. obsessed with the way that everytime he pulls out, your hips move on their own to chase the feeling of him filling you up again. you have such cute reactions to everything he’s giving to you, but his favorite by far is your begs for him to fuck you deeper, harder, fill you up with his seed. theo is so shameless, he doesn’t even care that your neighbors can probably feel your headboard hitting the wall with every thrust, wants them to know that the innocent pretty girl next door is getting defiled.
currently, he has you with your face down and ass up, posing all pretty for him and showing off your little hole, still dripping with his cum as he lines up his length with your pussy lips and pushes in. you love how degrading this position in, how you’re completely at his mercy like this, dizzy with want as you drool at the thought of coming around his dick again. theo lands another firm smack against your ass cheek, and your legs buckle up from the pain and pleasure. you’re twitching against him, getting addicted to the way your body is being tossed around like a ragdoll, as if you were made to be taeyang’s personal cocksleeve. he pounds into you like it’s nothing, and it sends blood rushing to your core. you silently thank the heavens for blessing you with a boyfriend like theo when you feel another climax approaching, all whilst theo continues to assault your cunt and use you like a cum dump. just when you believe theo couldn’t make you feel any better, his hand slips in between your legs to draw circles into your clit, and you feel the knot in your tummy tear in one firm snap that has you shaking, gripping onto anything within your reach to try to ground yourself as he works you through your nth orgasm of the night. your arousal leaks out of you, dripping and splashing onto theo’s pelvis and your sheets, and it just doesn’t stop spilling. you can hear your boyfriend groaning in satisfaction, filling you up once again and pounding irregularly as you both ride your highs together. after a few moments, taeyang’s thrusts slow to lazy grinds until you push your hips away, pleading him for “noooo, no more yangie.. too sensitive..” as he just watches you escape his grip in amusement. your boyfriend gives you a few minutes to catch your breath, massaging little shapes into your skin to ease any pain he may have caused earlier. when you’ve finally descended back to planet earth, you turn to look at theo with a face of disbelief, and he grins and leans in to kiss you, pulling off your lips just as quick to stare at you, still smiling mischievously. then he’s sitting up on your bed again, fingers moving dangerously close to your wetness as you widen your eyes at his next words.
“what was that you said earlier, my baby doesn’t think she can squirt? but look at you now.. so messy, want me to clean you up? hm? think you can take it?”
❤︎ jiung
“shhh pretty, gotta stay quiet ok? don’t wanna get us in trouble, do you?” jiung taunts as he lazily strokes himself to the view of you playing with your cute pussy. you’ve never felt so vulnerable before, burning up at the intensity of his gaze as you muster up enough courage to spread your legs wider in order to please him. when jiung asked you to show him how you touch yourself when he’s on tour earlier, you didn’t expect to be so shy, but another part of you feels empowered at how the sight of you playing with yourself is making him lose all of his composure. although you’re currently at his dorm, and are aware that the rest of the boys are also here, the risk of them hearing you doing something so dirty is exhilarating. your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind either, completely detached from his surroundings and focused on the way you work 3 fingers into your hole, the way it gapes and swallows your digits. he’s breathing heavily in between his instructions, gaze dark as he continues to fuck up into his own palm. ji has always been so sweet with his praises, and everytime he calls you something as simple as pretty, you move your fingers a tad bit faster to chase your release. you’re about to inform him that you’re close, but he beats you to it by forcefully pulling your fingers away from your cunt, replacing them a few moments later with his own. jiung’s pace is less forgiving, and your control over the volume of your voice starts to waver as curls his fingers inside of you. the sensation of his ministrations, paired with the fear that any of his members could catch you in this position results in an odd buildup in your stomach. you’ve experienced earth shattering orgasms with your boyfriend before, but there is something different about the way this one is building up, and for a moment you’re terrified you’re about to piss all over his fingers and sheets. you remove one of your hands from it’s grip on his pillow and grab at jiung’s wrist instead in a panic, attempting to push him away and warn him but he doesn’t stop, in fact he only quickens his pace and scrunches his brows in concentration as you start to writhe and tremble. “ji wait! ah, fuck!” are the last words that leave your lips before you feel yourself gush all over his hand, and your eyes roll back as warm drops escape your womanhood.
your embarrassment of peeing yourself, despite how good it felt, snaps you out of the afterglow of your orgasm quicker than usual, and you’re about to apologize to the boy in front of you profusely but he cuts you off with “baby, you squirted”. when you look up at his face, he’s smiling so big, as if he’s a child that was just given a bucket of candy on halloween. “i uh, are you sure?” is the lame response that comes out of your mouth in a sigh, and you’re honestly relieved that you didn’t pee yourself and slightly less mortified at how quick you came because of your boyfriend’s pleased reaction. he just giggles in response and leans in to kiss you all over your face, his excitement is contagious, causing you to laugh along with him. “i didn’t even know i could do that..”
just when jiung is about to respond, loud knocking can be heard against his door. “you guys are so loud, can you please not fuck like rabbits when other people are here? some of us enjoy some peace and quiet”. you recognize the disgruntled voice as keeho’s, and although you’re a bit ashamed, your boyfriend just ignores the inquiry and kisses you again, fingers making their way back to your cunny as you sigh at the contact.
“keeho’s got some nerve if he thinks i’m gonna leave you alone tonight after you just squirted in front of me”
❤︎ intak
in true puppy nature, intak is obsessed with giving you backshots. doggystyle is his favorite position, he loves the way he gets full access to the sight of your bare back glistening with sweat as you praise how well he’s fucking you. tak is addicted to how your ass jiggles everytime your pelvis’ hit against each other, how he just has to peer downwards to see the ring of your frothy cum around his fat cock. yeah, intak loves giving you backshots, a fact so obvious that you’ve started to wear the skimpiest skirts around him, just to lure him into taking what you know he always wants.
tonight is no different. you’re sitting at your vanity, spritzing some of intak’s favorite scent of perfume onto your wrists and on the nape of your neck, adding minor touch ups to your full glam, and most importantly, sliding on the shortest skirt you’ve ever owned. the material clings onto the shape of your bum, and the length is so short that the bottom curve of your ass is on full display. you haven’t seen your boyfriend in days, and usually that just meant that you would have to do with your vibrator, but recently, the device just wasn’t enough, just didn’t hit the spot like your boyfriend did. to say you were sexually frustrated was an understatement. you needed to intak’s girth on your tongue, needed him to open you up and fuck you into next week. therefore, you’ve decided that tonight, you need to look as fuckable as possible. you’re determined to make intak’s jaw drop as soon as he lays his eyes on you, and once you’ve made sure you’re ready, you take one more good look at the mirror, then reach for your phone to check your text notifications. like clockwork, you receive a new message from intak as soon as you unlock your device.
takkie! <3: hi doll :) i’m here
takkie! <3: take ur time tho!
you heart his messages and giggle, thinking about how happy you are to see your boyfriend and spend time with him tonight. being away from him, even for a few days, is always such a bore. even if you plan on getting your insides rearranged in a few hours, just being within tak’s presence is enough to get you excited. as you make your way downstairs, you pull down your shirt just slightly, so your cleavage becomes visible. you slip on some wedges that match the color of your top and make your way towards intak’s bright red convertible, surprising him when you suddenly open the passenger door and plop yourself onto his leather seats. “hi baby! missed you so much!” is how you greet him, leaning in to give him a sloppy peck on the lips. you detach yourself from his face and smile innocently at him, observing the way he ogles your appearance and shamelessly stares at your breasts and legs. once he’s finally got a grip on himself, he smiles at you and tucks a stray piece of your hair behind your ear while responding with “missed you too doll, did you get all pretty jus’ for me?”
you did in fact get all pretty just for him, and you beam with victory as intak pushes your head down onto the surface of his back seats, his cock furiously pounding into you as he breathes heavy. “thought you could wear this shit and not get fucked? you’re so beautiful doll, you’re drivin’ me crazy. fuckkkkk”. tears are streaming down your cheeks, no doubt fucking up your mascara but you couldn’t care less as you internally laugh at the realization that your hunk of a boyfriend is just so easy to rile up, how you have such a big effect on him. he really is losing his mind, pathetically rutting into you like a dog as he leans forward to completely tower over your frame, hands groping your exposed tits as he tilts his head to lay kisses on your right ear. you’re chanting mantras of yes, yes, yes’ as intak plows into your heat, loving how dirty it all is, how everytime you get in the back of his car you’ll remember the feeling of your cum pooling onto his expensive seats. “gonna cum, fuck, where do you want it babe?” is the question that accompanies his sloppy thrusts, and you’re quick to beg for him to cum “inside! wanna feel it takkie”. your boyfriend quickly flips you over onto your back, and you’re about to ask what he’s doing until he enters you again, going at it impossibly faster until he feels the familiar shaking of your legs, the tightening of your cunt around him that signals that you’re close. he’s thrusting so viciously that you’re sure the car is rocking back and forth. intak’s sweat is starting to drip off onto you, and it only pushes you closer to that sweet edge. with a few more thrusts, you’re crying out and creaming around him, your juices squirting all over his seats as he pulls out to watch. you’re crying, feeling dazed and confused as to what just happened, embarrassment beginning to sink in and consume you until you look up to see intak’s face. his eyes are focused on your mess, cum weeping out of his tip as he whines louder than he ever has before. without skipping a beat, he’s pressing his cockhead against your clit, slapping it over and over in attempts to draw more juices out of you. he’s so focused, so consumed by lust that his pleas for you to “give me more. one more doll. need to see you squirt again, give it to me” come out hurried and mumbled. you’ve never seen your boyfriend quite this desperate, but it makes you hungrier for more.
long story short, you squirt over his leather seats again and he licks it all up, so your plan was in fact very successful!
❤︎ soul
you and shota have been at this for about a week. for context, it’s been precisely six days since you and your boyfriend lost your virginities to each other. six days ago you allowed soul to see you bare, touch and kiss you wherever he so pleased, and six days ago was the first instance where you realized why your classmates were always so crazy for sex.
so where, may you ask, has your recent deflowering led you to? well, back to your boyfriend’s bed, where your hands pull and tug at his long hair frantically as you search for a release. when you initially decided that you were ready to lose your virginity to soul, you didn’t really know what to expect other than pain. as it turns out, you and shota had such an incredible first time that you’ve spent the entire remainder of the week with your bodies never apart, every moment together being occupied with the two of you exploring each other with your fingers and tongues. it’s become concerning actually, how the loss of your virginity has only led you to become more curious. you want to know of each and every sound you can pull out of your lover, if he whines or groans, if he prefers to fuck into the warmth of your mouth or the plush of your thighs.
so like i said, you and shota have been at this for about a week. currently, he has you on your knees, letting you take the lead as he watches you suck and lick the tip of his heavy cock. you collect his precum into your mouth, smearing some excess onto your lips as you look up to lock eyes with him. sho is definitely pleased, enjoying the attention to his cock more than he’d ever admit out loud. he attempts to hide his groans by biting down on his bottom lip, but it’s no use when you start to bob your head up and down his length with no warning. his resolve is wavering, toes are curling, whines come out more freely as he never dares to break eye contact with you. you love the effect you have on your boyfriend, a fact that has only become evident to you this week during your self-proclaimed “sexcapade”. when shota is close, his length slightly twitches on your tongue and you take the reaction as a sign to release him with a pop!, much to his annoyance. “why’d you stop?” he frustratedly asks you, wincing as if he’s just been punched. “wanna try something…” is the only reply you give soul as the gears turn in your head, and suddenly your latching your hands onto the back of your boyfriend’s thighs and lightly pushing him onto the bed. he has a quizzical expression on his features, but he enjoys that you’re excited to try something new with him, this entire week proving to him that he’d do anything you asked him to, just to see you fall apart and sigh his name. you instruct your boyfriend to lay down flat against your bedsheets, and he follows suit right away, making your heart swoon before you resume your plan. shota opts to stay silent, trusting you with whatever you want to try, and he stays quiet when your putting one leg on either side of his head, dropping your pelvis onto his tongue as you face his cock, continuing to suck him off while he returns the favor to you. this position makes you feel so powerful, like you’re the only one who’s allowed to call the shots. your boyfriend doesn’t have any complaints either, just happy to have your cunt on his tongue and his cock on yours. the two of you work in, for the most part, silence, aside from the occasional groans and moans that slip past your lips when one of you adds additional pressure. every time your tongue presses against the slit of his cock, or your mouth sucks on his fat head, you make mental notes of all of the sounds of pleasure you can hear behind you. your thoughts begin to drift, thinking about how you can’t believe you led shota to doing something so nasty, something you would most likely see in a corny porno, but as he laps and slurps at your pussy lips, you decide you couldn’t care less. soul is very good at giving head, another epiphany you have had this week, which excites you a little too much. you’re pulled back into reality from your thoughts, however, when your boyfriend uses his teeth to slightly nip at your clit, putting enough pressure to make you squeal.
“sho! god keep doing that.. ‘s good, feels sooooo good!” is what breaks the silence in your bedroom, and soul is nothing if not a quick learner. he continues to flatten his tongue against the groove of your vaginal lips, top to bottom until he reaches your little bud, then biting at it to get another pleasured noise out of you. he goes a little overboard with the biting, but you only push against his mouth, so he figures it must feel good and continues to please you. you on the other hand, have completely abandoned shota’s cock, too preoccupied with noticing how different the coil in your pelvis feels, how much more intense it builds up until it finally snaps, and what follows is only describable as pure bliss. you’re loud, moans are wanton as you grind your hips onto shota’s tongue, riding out your high when you realize that you feel a lot wetter than you would with your typical orgasm. you finally lift your pussy off of shota’s face and the sudden change of position makes you aware of the cum splattered on the side of your cheek, signifying that your boyfriend got a little too excited by your climax. you pivot your body to face him, mostly to make sure you didn’t go too overboard, and are met with shota’s pretty face, glistening with a strange wetness that you soon realize is yours. you stare at your boyfriend as he begins to lick at his own mouth and chin, eyes darkening as he grabs and kisses you messily. you can taste your essence on your own tongue and whine at how desperate shota is being, how your explosive orgasm has begun to show you a side of soul you didn’t know existed. the rest of the night is spent with your boyfriend making you squirt over and over again hehe <3 he lives to make you feel good
❤︎ jongseob
“need to feel you, ah! in me seobie, please! wan’ your cock in me sooo bad, please put it in?”
the pathetic words that come out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping yourself have the biggest effect on the boy under you. you’re currently straddling your boyfriend, grinding your panty-clad cunt on the outline of his dick, staining seob’s sweatpants with a small patch of your wetness. you don’t know why you’re feeling especially needy today, but seeing your boyfriend after a hard, long week of class makes you crave to be filled up by him. jongseob looks up at you in astonishment, lips forming a cute little “o” as his hands are placed tightly on both sides of your waist. he take this time to admire how sexy you look like this, grinding on him in only a crop top and tiny pair of panties. he could definitely get used to the view, and has to bite back pathetic moans of his own from escaping his plush lips, wanting to fully focus on the sounds you make as you hump him like a bitch in heat. he’s about to tell you to slow down, that he’ll take care of you but he needs to stretch you out first, but you’re not patient enough to wait for him to answer your previous pleas. his eyes widen as he watches you huff and pause the roll of your hips, and seob nearly faints when you cross your arms to pull your skimpy top off of your body, or when you hook your fingers under his sweats, pulling them down just far enough to where you can grab at his now exposed dick. to this, he sits up onto his elbows, not wanting to jump into penetrating you without prepping you first.
“princess wait, are you sure? haven’t stretched you out yet, don’t wanna hurt you baby..” he sweetly informs you, making you pause for a minute to look into his eyes. you scan all over his face, how his blonde bangs are now damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead, the mole below his eye that you love so much, the heart eyes he’s shooting at you, and his pink lips struggling to hold in his heavy breaths. you grab his face with your hands and give him one long kiss on the lips before you pull back to reply, “wanna make it hurt seobie, wanna feel you all up in my guts, please, been thinkin’ about it all day!” and fuck, how is he supposed to tell his princess no when she’s asking for his cock so sweetly? your request is enough initiative for jongseob to flip you over with haste, towering over you as he pinches your panties to the side and slips in, not worried about discarding the rest of his clothes as he’s only concerned with pounding into your cunny until you’re completely filled up to the brim with his seed. his hands are everywhere, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, caressing your pretty face, kneading at your tits, until he finally settles one hand on your waist, and the around your throat. the slight weight and pressure of his hold makes your eyes roll back. “oh my- fuck, yes!! you’re so fucking big seobie!” is what urges your boyfriend to snap his hips even harder into you, his ego boosted by just how loud you are. you’re so responsive, he can feel your pussy tightening around him into a vice grip, as if you want to milk him for everything he has and more. your begs and whines only increase in volume when he dips a finger down to play with your clit, and after a few seconds you’re crashing, melting into him as he continues to fuck you through both of your orgasms. he’s peppering your face in kisses to bring you down from cloud nine, praising you for being so sexy, so good for him. you don’t even realize that this is the first time you’ve squirted in front of your boyfriend until he’s sinking down to level with your cunt, displaying a crazy look in his eyes before he dives in and starts to fuck his tongue into you with as much vigor as he fucked you with earlier. pulls away for a moment to take a good look at your face, and then opening his mouth to say,
“you’re so sexy baby, gonna make you squirt again. you wanted this, right? wanted it so bad and now you’re twitching like you can’t handle it. gon’ fuck you into next week baby, will you let me?”
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a/n: i <3 needy piwon
taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @cysier @fishsquishh
❤︎
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sockiess · 1 day
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sam monroe walking in on you masturbating? like fingering yourself and humping your pillows? PLEASE I LOVE SAM 😍🥰
I LOVE THIS REQUEST BUT ALSO SCARED BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE I AM NOT GOOD AT WRITING SMUT BUT ILL DO IT FOR YOU POOKIE ALSO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE PLEASE FORGIVE ME
We might as well just fuck
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUT SMUT WHOLE LOTTA SMUT ITS JUST SMUT
I laid on Sam’s bed with my fingers between my thighs softly rubbing at my clit. Sam was at work and I was going to wait for him but I was just so horny and needy. I’ve been thinking about him all day and the wetness between my thighs was just unbearable at this point. I thought if I could quickly just make myself cum I could be fine until he got home.
My fingers weren’t really doing it for me and I needed more. Then I got an idea and I quickly grabbed the pillow on the side of Sam’s bed, the one he used every night. I quickly straddled it and started rocking my hips back and forth on it feeling the softness rub against my clit. It wasn’t like anything I have ever felt before. No, it wasn’t as good as Sam’s fingers, tongue, or cock but it would do the job until I could get what I actually wanted
Little did I know that I wouldn’t have to wait long as Sam got home earlier than expected. I continued rocking my hips back and forth on his pillow making a mess of it not knowing that Sam was in the door way with his hands down is pants watching me.
I felt the bed dip and his hand gripping my neck. I quickly let out a yelp. “shh shh baby it’s just me” Sam said turning my face and messily kissing me. The kiss was all tongue and spit it was barely a kiss. “Sammy” I moaned out stopping the rocking of my hips. “Keep going.” Sam demanded out. Even though the pillow felt good Sam was here and I wanted his cock in me. now.
“Your cock” I whined out. “no, you wanted to be a slut on my pillow so continue.” He said while starting to rock my hips for me. I moaned out and continued to grind down on his pillow.
Sam finally had enough of watching me make a mess on his pillow and picked me up and sat me down on his lap pushing his dick into me. “Sam!” I basically screamed while he bounced me on his lap leaving hickeys all over my tits. “So fucking beautiful” Sam said in between my tits. “Sammy i’m going to cum” I moaned out. “Me too baby” He said bouncing me harder onto his cock and kissing me. The knot in my stomach finally snapped as I moaned into his lips. Sam quickly released inside me pulling my head back by my hair to kiss my neck. “fuck” Sam breathed out while rubbing my back. “I made a mess” I giggled. “Yes you did baby” Sam said laughing quietly and holding me closer kissing the top of my head.
“Never gonna wash that pillow again”
“Sam that’s disgusting.”
THIS WAS SHORT IM SO SORRY🫶🫶 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT IF YOU WANT ME TO ADD OR CHANGE ANYTHING LET ME KNOW :))
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writingsfromhome · 3 days
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Echoes of the Night we Met
Request: Would you consider writing something based on one of these songs? „I’m not yours” Angus & Julia Stone or „The night we met” Lord Huron
A/N: I took Lord Huron’s song as a looooose inspo and just went with what came…hope it came out ok. Feel free to request any others :)
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Harry:
I've been searching for a trail to follow again.
I move my can from one hand to the other, the drink dangling from the bridge railing. Along the railing flakes of green paint give way to pockets of rust. I try not to read too much into that. Instead I focus on the soothing quality of the river below, always moving forward, always soldiering on.
YN liked coming here to think a lot when we were kids. That’s how I first noticed her, the girl with the curtain of hair hiding her face from passerbys. She’s look down into the river like it was whispering ancient words to her, mesmerized and connected. I wonder what she thought about all the time.
One day I asked. I remember the first night we met. It was just after 8, the sun was just about done setting. Summer was slipping away from us and we were both facing the start of a new school year.
“Hi,” I’d started off rough. She’d barely even glanced up. “Penny for your thoughts?”
That had gotten her attention. She had looked up through wisps of her hair and then turned to me fully. I didn’t know if she knew who I was. We’d grown up in the same neighbourhood all our lives but she didn’t go to the same public school I went to.
“A penny used to be worth a lot more,” she had said and I remember her brows raised slightly like she was surprised at what came out of her mouth.
“What?” I’d laughed, charmed by this awkward girl.
She shook her head, a shy smile brightening her face despite the oncoming dark. “A penny used to be like a lot more money so that phrase meant our thoughts were just as valuable. But now a penny barely means anything so…what does that say about thoughts in the 21st century.”
She was a nerd, and somehow the revelation of that made me like her even more.
“Can I summarize that answer in 140 characters? My thoughts are in tweets.” I tried to joke.
She snorted and covered her face. “That was kinda lame.”
“You laughed,” I had pointed out. “Plus you’re the one who just met me and delivered a lecture on-
“I get it,” she cut me off. “I was just caught off guard.”
“Do you usually deliver facts when you’re caught off guard?” I decided to join her, overlooking the water. Our elbows had stay a foot apart.
“Yes,” she said with humour.
“So if an intruder came into your house-“
“I would disarm them with a fact.”
It had take me a second to get the joke before I laughed. She had hid hers behind her hand.
“You have a nice smile,” I told her.
“Oh.” She had grow serious and avoided my gaze, staring out at the river.
“You can take the compliment.”
“I know,” she cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
“I’m Harry,” I finally introduced myself.
“I know.” She said again. “You volunteered at the community centre earlier this summer. The reading club?”
“Were you there?” I thought I would remember a face like hers.
“Not for that,” she had left it at that.
“What year are you in?” I had asked.
We began to talk and she began to relax. Slowly she faced me again, answered my questions and laughed at my jokes. I felt on top of the world. We barely register how dark it had gotten, the lights in the part casting us in shadows.
My breath catches in my throat as the memories wash over me as they usually did. It was torture, coming here to this bridge after a few weeks.
Y/N moved on. Moved out of this town and made a life out of travelling. I stayed and made a life here. On my bitterest nights I have to avoid thinking that I was left behind.
Not that it was her fault. We were both to blame how the relationship ended. But I didn’t understand why it still affected me this much a decade later.
I wish I had one night with her. Or go back to the night we met. If I could go back I’d tell myself what I should’ve done when I had her. And if that doesn’t work, then save myself the heartbreak and advise not to ride along.
Is it better to love and be left behind or never to have loved at all, the age old question circles my mind as it always did when I fell into this particular pit of despair.
10 fucking years. When was I going to get over her. I try to shut out the painful images that always came.
The softness of her, how loud her laugh could be despite her shy smile. The way she smelled when I nestled my face in the specific spot on her neck. Her eyes, the ones that I watched growing wearier throughout our relationship.
I replay our final moments together, the blow of every word that should’ve been left unsaid, the pain of tallying every unkept promise—the biggest being staying together, forever. Everything suffocates me.
I thought I could live a life without her but she lingered like a ghost with nowhere to pass over. Even if I managed to get over her, move on, she was like a thread that ran through me; a constant memory.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts as the bridge creaks with the weight of another person. I look up at the approaching figure and my chest squeezes tight at what I see. Who I see.
You:
The bridge stood as a silent witness to the passage of time, once gleaming in its steel it had been oxidized by rain and snow, worn down by wind and ice. Its timeworn pieces clang with every footstep that’s ever walked across, the secrets whispered by the rushing river below staying hidden from passerbys.
I listened to the secrets. As a teen this is where I came to get away from the small bungalow I lived in with my 3 siblings and parents. This is what kept me sane when times got tough at home, always leaning over the edge and letting the rushing of the river below whisper that things would get better.
It’s where I met Harry. Both of us naïve and 16. I wonder if he heard the same secrets I did.
For years, the bridge held our memories, preserving the echoes of a night long past. Just like this bridge we’d been worn down and away. Life circumstances, time, and heartbreak.
The air crackles as I step onto the surface of the bridge. He’s there, his perfect silhouette embodying the shadow of how I remembered us. How had so much time passed?
In the stillness of the night I walk towards him and hope I wasn’t making another mistake.
Harry:
Even in the dim light she was as beautiful as the first day I met her. Her hair was shorter, straightened and lighter than I remember.
“YN?” I had to be hallucinating.
“Harry, hey.” Her voice bristles slightly. That’s how I know she’s actually here, and not a part of my imagination.
“How…”
“My brother,” she goes to lean on the bridge rail but changes her mind last minute, wrapping her arm around her waist instead.
YN’s brother and I had become friends—which was weird since he was always YN’s younger brother. But he got a teaching job at the same school a few years back and he had remembered me. We got along well.
I had just left the pub with her brother. But what was she doing here? In town?
“You’re in town.” I state lamely.
“Yeah,” she turns away, out to the river. “Helping my parents with something.”
Her parents were selling their childhood home, I knew that from her brother. I wonder if she knows I know.
“It’s good to see you,” I say the obvious but truthful statement.
“Yeah,” she glances at me. “How are you?”
Now I look away, unsure how to answer. “Good. You?”
“Fine,” she says with a wry smile. We knew the other way lying.
“Really?”
“I’m here in this godforsaken town so yeah, great.”
It’s the first cut tonight; apparently being here was rock bottom for her.
“Still no room for second chances hey?”
She doesn’t respond but she stands taller. Annoyed—I could tell from her body language.
“Same old y/n,” I whisper under my breath. Fuck. I didn’t want to slip back into this version of me but I wasn’t expecting such a biting cold from this woman. I thought we could be pleasant before descending into old habits.
“Same old Harry.” She cocks a brow. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Y/N,” I sigh. I used to have all of her. I had to be better. “I’m sorry.”
Her mouth makes an ‘o’ and her eyes soften. She doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, hoping she somehow understands I meant it about more than just now. “I don’t understand why you’re here though. I was just thinking about…”
“I was in town. I was here earlier in the day actually. Hadn’t visited the bridge in a while, used to come here nearly every bloody day.”
“I know,” I chuckle. She was attached to it.
“My brother mentioned you when he got back from the pub. Said something about you being in your sad hour—you liked going to this park during it. He probably doesn’t know why but…”
“But then why come? Knowing I’m here?”
She shrugs, her hands coming up only to fall hard at her sides. “I don’t know Harry. I didn’t realize I’d come here to get the second-degree.”
“I was thinking about you.” I will her to look at me, it aches to look at her. She looks older in the same way I probably did to her. More mature. She looks beautiful. And so far away. “About us. I know it’s been a decade but some night I can’t get us out of my head. I did so many wrong things Y/N. I swear I’d do anything just to go back to the night we met. Before I had all of you.”
She sucks in a breath. Still doesn’t look at me.
I touch her elbow, plead inside my head for her to look my way.
“I needed you to be angry or apathetic. I thought I’d come here and see you never changed, and feel better about leaving us. Leaving this town.”
She finally looks at me, her eyes fill with tears and I feel myself crumble. I don’t know how I was going to wake up tomorrow morning after seeing her face like this. I couldn’t let her go. Somehow fate brought us back here.
You:
The night we first met, I had been stewing in anger staring at the rushing river and trying to stay out as late as possible. I didn’t want to go home. To my reality.
Dad had lost his job earlier this year and his new job paid less. They were pulling my brothers and I out of private school and into public. I had cried and begged—I had a year left couldn’t I just finish it off?
But they had been resolute. And I had been angry and heartbroken.
Until Harry had approached me. I knew him from seeing him around the neighbourhood. I was relieved when he said he didn’t notice me at the community centre where my brothers and I sometimes went for their free breakfasts. It had been a real struggle that year.
I had noticed him, he was really attractive and confident, but he’d also been really sweet with the people he was volunteering with. Especially the kids.
I guess he would be at my new school. Maybe I’d make a friend in him.
I hadn’t expected to fall for him after exchanging a few words. He hadn’t been weirded out by my awkward small talk or moody vibe. He had just talked to me, asked me questions about myself, and we’d laughed a lot. That’s what I remember.
But five years of friendship to lovers came to an explosive end. For ten years I ran away. Tonight I return to the night we met.
I wanted to stay on my high horse, absolutely sure that I made the right decision not forgiving him and moving away.
Now I don’t know anything.
Mom and dad were selling my childhood home, any ties I had to this place were unravelling, and now even the person I needed to stay the villain was apologizing.
“You travel a lot,” Harry touches my elbow lightly. I know he’s not ignoring what I said, just giving me a way to talk around it until I can talk through it. I forgot the little ways he could be kind. It tears a hole right through me.
“Yeah,” I had started working for a travel magazine a decade ago and then made it my own brand on social media. I got paid to travel which was a dream. And yet, it always carried an emptiness—like I was running away from a debt I never paid. “Do what you love right?”
“Yeah.” Harry had gone into teaching, he’d stayed in town, born and raised. It had surprised me finding out. “I can’t say I love teaching, but it gets me up in the morning.”
“I heard the kids adore you,” my brother had kept me updated on Harry when I asked. I think my brother loved him too—he definitely idolized him.
“Sometimes,” he smiles like he’s embarrassed but I know he’s not.
“It’s been ten years,” I whisper. Why was he still not over us? Why did it make me feel awful.
“I think I felt every year,” he says.
Me too.
“Wish I could rewind, go back to the night we met.” He says.
“So you could warn yourself?” I half tease.
“No. Y/n,” he rolls his eyes. “Just to remember what it felt like to-to…not have to worry about a million decisions, not have to worry about money and what’s for dinner and whether your car’s about to kick the bucket or whether you’ve got a serious vitamin c deficiency or it’s depression. Just…just to go back and remember what it felt like to…meet a cute girl in the park and wonder what she’s thinking about.”
“That cute girl was angry,” I remind him.
That had come out later, as we talked into the night. In the cloak of darkness when he’d expressed surprise that I was enrolling in his school and I had said some bitter response, he’s prodded in all the soft spots. Before I knew it I was crying in front of the very attractive guy. It was humiliating.
But he’d surprised me, with a gentle hand on my arm—a question that I’d responded with by tucking myself into his arms. It was weirdly not weird.
“I remember.”
“The girl’s still pretty angry,” I say quietly.
My mum and dad were selling the home. The place I thought I’d always get to call home no matter how many countries I went to and how many beds I slept in. I always thought the room down the hall would always be mine.
“Want to talk about it?” Harry asks.
“How?” I look at him. “How can you want to stand here and listen to me be angry? After everything.”
Harry sighs. It’s loaded. “Y/N I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Ten bloody years have gone by, many relationships and so many fucking new memories and yet I’m still haunted by the ghost of you. And I push it away and pretend I’m okay. But I’m not.”
“We were both so angry at the end,” I ignore everything he just said to say something else. Or maybe to respond to him basically confessing that he missed me. I was scared.
“I tried to make you something you weren’t,” Harry admits and hearing him say it out loud even ten years later burns. Like the flaking paint on this forsaken bridge, I’m rusty on the inside.
“And I was angry at the world but I took it out on you.” I reply with the same vulnerability. He deserved it after I came here wearing body armour.
He moves an inch closer to me and my body feels like it leans in like an automatic response.
“Why did you run so far?” He asks, it’s barely a whisper.
I feel the tears threatening to pour out but I hold them back. “Why didn’t you come looking for me?”
“I was mad,” his hand reaches out but before it can brush mine it drops. My heart drops with it. “And then I thought we were better apart. But really I was just scared.”
“Scared?” I was too.
“I had all of you and then most of you, some of you and then none of you. I didn’t think it could go the other way.”
It couldn’t. I think about the ring in my pocket, the one I took off when I left my parents’ front door to walk here.
It was a 3 year relationship begging to take the first step. When the proposal came I had cried with tears of joy.
“I don’t think it can,” I say and I feel a tear slide down my cheek. I rub it away.
He nods in defeat. “I just wanted to talk to you. Say sorry and be sure there’s nothing to go back to.”
“The way I treated you I…I wish I did things differently Harry. And I’m sorry. But I think there’s too much between us to go back to.”
“Yeah well,” he scratches the back of his head. “At least I know now.”
I want to take his face in my hands and kiss him, feel his familiar hands work down my body and hold me close. I wanted all of him, or some of him. I couldn’t. I could only have none of him.
Harry:
It hurts, being rejected. But now I know.
“Thank you YN,” I say honestly.
“For what?” She brushes away another tear. I wish I could do that for her.
“Coming here tonight? Closure?”
“Thanks for showing me people change,” YN says after some silence, her voice breaks half-way and she turns away.
Something else I’d be haunted by.
“Y/N,” I tug her arm and she unspools in my arms. She fits exactly as I remember, a whirlwind of emotions threaten to overwhelm me as her scent fills my head. She felt like a dream, slipping away while I still held her.
Still, I hold on tight, desperate to replace every y/n-related ache with this feeling right here. But just like sand in my fingers, it’s impossible to cling onto.
Y/N pulls away slowly and I feel like the river’s gathered up a big enough tide to swallow me whole. I want her to stay, to give me another chance, to put aside our history and see who we were now.
But I stay silent, the words caught in my throat and held back; she’d just reject me again. As much as I needed to, we couldn’t go back.
“I think I should go,” she whispers. I should ask her to stay, to maybe get breakfast tomorrow, to see her one last time.
Instead I nod, I just fucking nod.
She turns and every step she takes there’s a part of me that leaves with her.
When I can no longer see her I turn back to the river and cry one of my own.
I wasn’t haunted by the ghost of her, but by the ghost of what could’ve been. The echoes of the night we met bounce off the walls of my head and I scream into the night. It feels good, but the shadow of us stays in the farthest corner of my heart.
“It’s no fair,” I whisper to the river.
The river streams on, a low shushing sound muffled by the night.
Maybe, I think, Y/N would visit here once more—maybe soon. Maybe she’d look down into the water like she always did and when she listened for the river’s secrets, maybe it would tell her mine.
“I still love her,” I confess to the river.
But the river only moves forward.
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unpretty · 3 months
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earlier today andrew was like, "hey, check this out" and turned their phone around to show me an image of a pair of dreamworks eyebrow sunglasses before swiping to show me another image of the sunglasses and bask in my horror
but the pictures were on tumblr and they accidentally swiped the wrong direction in the image viewer
so from my perspective what happened was that andrew was like, "hey, check this out" and turned their phone around to show me an image of a pair of dreamworks eyebrow sunglasses before swiping dramatically to reveal an unrelated image of stuart little, watching me expectantly for a reaction that never came
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sarumint · 7 months
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pop!
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gay-dorito-dust · 10 days
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I have been binging your work!
I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
I adore your writing. Thank you!
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This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️
Sunday:
The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.
Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.
He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.
Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.
His heart had died alongside you that day.
So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.
‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.
‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.
‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’
‘Sunday-‘
‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.
Jing yuan:
Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.
He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.
While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.
You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.
So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.
‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.
‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.
‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.
‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.
‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.
‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.
Aventurine:
He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.
The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.
You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.
So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.
‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.
‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.
‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.
‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’
‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.
‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’
‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘
‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’
You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’
Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.
His light has came home.
Ratio:
Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.
Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.
Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.
A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.
‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.
‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.
‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’
You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’
‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’
‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.
‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.
You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.
‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.
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honnelander · 8 months
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go fish!
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so i fell in love with Sanji just like everyone else. i've never seen the one piece anime or read the manga so i'm solely going off of the live action. i had fun writing this and plan to make this a series of some sorts where it's a fem!reader x Sanji moments of awkwardness, fluff, and mutual pining because i love reading that stuff myself. if anyone has any suggestions or requests for this series please leave a comment or send me an ask!
WARNINGS: none
word count: 1.3k
pairing: opla!sanji x reader
summary: reader and Usopp are playing a card game when Sanji finds them. teasing ensues.
prequel part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist
“Care for a refreshment, Madam?” a smooth, deep familiar voice asked to your left, breaking your concentration on the card game in front of you. 
“Hm?” you looked up from the cards in your hand and saw the Going Merry’s own chef looking down at you with a crooked, charming smile as he held a chilled glass bottle of water in his hand. “Oh, hey Sanji,” you greeted quickly with your usual smile as you looked back down at your hand. “What’d you say? Go fish Usopp.” 
Your opponent across the barrel from you grumbled as he took the top card off the deck sitting between you both. 
“I was just asking if the lovely madam sitting here would like a nice, cold refreshment on this particularly hot day?” Sanji asked again with a hint of amusement, his crooked smile deepening as he watched you study your hand once again. 
“’Lovely madam’?” Usopp repeated sarcastically, his eyebrows pulling together. “What about offering her super buff, brave, and heroic opponent an ice-cold beverage instead?” 
“Nope,” Sanji corrected, popping the 'p'. “Ladies first Usopp. Always.” 
Even after knowing Sanji for a couple of months now, his consistent chivalry always managed to make your heart flutter.  
You laughed lightly and couldn’t help but smirk as you said with a matter-of-fact, teasing tone, “Just say you wish you were a girl, Usopp. No judgment here.” You paused for a moment before asking, “You got the five of spades?” 
“Now even though I would make an extremely attractive, gorgeous woman, I am a man through and through.” A grin broke out on Usopp’s face as he glanced at his hand and triumphantly called out, “Go fish, y/n.” 
“Fair enough,” you hummed as you reached for a card. “And yes Sanji, I would love a glass of cold water. Thank you.” You shot a quick look of gratitude the chef’s way as you took a card from the deck. 
Sanji placed the two glasses onto your makeshift barrell-table top he was holding in his left hand and started filling up the glasses with water. “Of course. Anything for the missus.” 
Missus. Ugh. It made your heart skip a beat to hear him call you that. But you knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. It was just how Sanji spoke, forever the gentleman. 
“Oof. If you keep sweet talking like that Sanji, you’re going to even make me blush, just like y/n,” Usopp joked. 
Your eyes widened as your eyes snapped to look at your dumbass crewmate and friend sitting across from you. “I- I am not blushing Usopp!” God, if you both were using a real table instead of a barrel right now you would’ve broken his shine with your foot. You really weren’t blushing before but Usopp’s stupid comment definitely made your cheeks heat up now. “It’s the heat,” you hissed.  
“’Heat’,” he mocked with air quotes and snorted. “Right.” 
“I-” before you could defend yourself, Sanji spoke up. 
“Actually,” the blonde chef chimed in with a light laugh as he filled the second glass, “that’s why I came over in the first place. You were looking a little flushed y/n, so I thought you guys could use a cold drink.” 
Sanji’s words caused both you and Usopp to look up from your cards simultaneously, making eye contact with each other. A mischievous grin started to form on Usopp’s face as he saw the blush deepen on your face. You quickly looked back to your hand, suddenly finding the eight of clovers card extremely interesting.  
Sanji saw you looking flushed? He saw you? From across the deck? From inside the kitchen’s window? He was watching you play cards? The thought of Sanji watching you when you didn’t expect him to made your stomach erupt in butterflies, and it certainly didn’t make your stupid little crush on him go away. Just the opposite. In fact, it just fueled your delusional fantasy even more.  
And it certainly didn’t help that the only person who knew about your crush on the head chef just so happened to have a big mouth and loved to tease you about it any chance he got. And that he was sitting right across from you right now, watching all of this unfold right in front of him. 
“Oh? So you were watching y/n and I play cards out here?” Usopp innocently asked his blonde crewmate, but you knew better. There wasn’t an ounce of true curiosity in his tone whatsoever. 
“Yeah, from the kitchen,” Sanji answered casually as he recapped the glass water bottle. 
“Usopp,” you warned. 
“And you said that she looked ‘flushed’?” Usopp asked, quirking a brow at the end of his question as he turned his gaze from you to Sanji. 
Sanji blinked in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together for a second before looking down at his crewmate. “Yeah...” he said slowly before continuing, “Her cheeks looked a little pink so I figured-” 
“Oh?” Usopp asked, his voice becoming louder. “You noticed the color of her cheeks, from that far away?” 
“Usopp,” you hissed louder but it fell on deaf ears. Once your friend got on a roll, there was little anyone could do about it. Especially when it came to teasing you about your feelings for Sanji. 
“Yeah,” Sanji replied to Usopp’s question with a confused smile. “What are you-” 
“GO FISH!” you blurted out loudly, cutting Sanji off and having both men turn their eyes towards you.  
“Huh?” Usopp blinked his eyes at you, suddenly remembering the game in front of him. “But I didn’t even ask you anything y/n. And you just drew a card, so it’s your turn to ask me.” 
You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that Usopp stopped grilling Sanji with all of those embarrassing questions right in front of you....even though you couldn’t help but perk up at the fact that Sanji in fact had been watching you from the kitchen, and that he was sweet enough to bring you (and Usopp) some water.  
“Well, I tried,” you shrugged and lied, “but you just kept yapping so you didn’t hear me. Do you have the Queen of hearts?” 
Usopp studied you for a brief moment before looking at his cards, smirking to himself. “You know y/n, it’s funny you asked about the Queen of hearts,” he said as he plucked the requested card from his hand and reached out to give it to you, “since you make heart eyes yourself whenever you look at-” 
“GOOD game Usopp!” you practically yelled as you threw your cards down onto the barrel and stood up, hoping your outburst drowned out the name Usopp was about to so stupidly blurt out. You shook his free hand with both of yours as you said, “You totally win my friend.” 
“What?” Sanji laughed slightly as he watched you and Usopp shake hands. The poor guy was as confused as ever. “But the game isn’t over.” 
You looked Usopp dead in the eye as tightened your grip on his hand. “Oh no, it’s over. He definitely won.”  
Yeah, he won alright. He won the game of making your life a living hell and embarrassing you in front of Sanji. He won the gold medal in that game. 
“I sure did,” Usopp agreed triumphantly, putting his cards down. 
You dropped his hand and took the glass of cold water that Sanji had so generously poured, the cold glass making you feel better already. “Thank you for this Sanji. I think I’ll go enjoy this on my hammock inside.” 
You couldn’t bear to look at Sanji, feeling humiliated for no reason with your face on fire, you stepped away from the barrel sipping your water as you made your way across the deck towards the ship’s living quarters.  
“Yeah, that’s a good idea y/n!” Usopp called, giddy from the high that could only come from successfully teasing a friend. “Maybe that’ll help calm down your flushed face!” 
Before stepping inside, you flipped off a laughing Usopp, completely missing the brief look of disappointment in Sanji’s eyes as he watched you go. 
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drchucktingle · 1 year
Note
Something I’ve been curious about if it wouldn’t break the bit: are you one buckaroo or several sharing a name and persona?
greetings bud thank you for asking FIRST OF ALL want to say to you or anyone reading this post that i am not upset over this question and i am not upset with you. you have kindness in your trot and i know you are just asking to prove love in your own way. buds reading this please do not harass this person in fact maybe give them a follow or a like, they are trying their best.
OKAY NOW THAT IS OUT OF THE WAY i will talk on my feelings of this with simple statement:
this is not a bit.
i understand it can be difficult to accept this for some, especially in world where absurdity and cynical humor is so popular, but i am very sincere. even though i make jokerman jokes sometimes, even in my writing, tinglers are not supposed to be funny as a concept. if you laugh at them that is TOTALLY OKAY i understand this way when confronted with something out of the box but that is not the point of them at all. the point is that LOVE IS REAL for everyone (there are other points but that is a broad one)
now on to why i trot my trot in this way. first off is to protect my privacy this is simple enough. when i talk on son jon or sweet barbara or any other way i am adding a layer of secrets by changing names or relations or towns but that is just a fancy outfit for the real truth. i am NOT creating a character, i am protecting myself.
second and more important is that when i TALK IN MY UNIQUE WAY i am expressing myself without masking, which is something old chuck does every single day out there in the world as someone on the autism spectrum. i am VERY GOOD AT MASKING you would probably not know chuck was autistic when talking to me unless you were a close bud. but unfortunately this masking way creates very real tension in my body. i have trotted with CHRONIC PAIN for most of my life heading to emergency rooms where kind and handsome t-rex doctors could not figure out what the heck was goin on. basically LIVED in the dang emergency room. eventually chuck learned i carried my body TOO TIGHT from masking all the time, but what i realized is that allowing myself a space to type freely without way of punctuation or other restrictions and LETTING MY HEART SING to just be myself without masking made this tension release. pain started going away. GRAND IRONY of course is that when im trotting as chuck i wear a pink mask to take off my OTHER MASK of a neurotypical bud.
that is why i protect my way of speaking freely as well. if someone says 'well you need to talk like this right now' i stand tall and say NO BUD THIS IS MY SPACE AND I WILL EXPRESS MYSELF IN THIS WAY AND YOU AN TROT ON IF YOU WANT. this is firm boundary for me and my health.
anyway buckaroo to sum that up again: yes i am one person and this is not a bit
if you want to know more about my way on the autism spectrum i wrote a tingler about how it feels to have others say you are 'playing a character' and not actually neurodivergent. i think tumblr buds might enjoy so i will add it down here LOVE IS REAL thank you for your question
NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS
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thebibliosphere · 5 months
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In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.
Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."
Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."
And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.
Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.
My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.
And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"
And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.
Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.
I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.
The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:
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ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.
(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)
And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."
And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.
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jamminvroomvroom · 4 months
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something in the orange.
ln x fem!reader
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in which lando can’t always have what he wants. and neither can you.
i’m so back! missed u xoxo i kinda hate this with a passion but i had to force myself to write something bc i was getting the writers jitters lmao. pls tell me what you think and what you want next! hugs
inspired by: something in the orange by zach bryan (ouch)
songs to set the mood: call out my name by the weeknd, all of evermore actually, leave the door open by the silk sonic
warnings: 18+!! minors, BEGONE!! smut, angst, wee bits of fluff, language, alcohol mentions, inappropriate workplace relationship (reader is an engineer @ mcl), slight age gap (r is older), mutual pining, mutual denial (kinda), unprotected sex (L bozo)
3.2k words
the first time it happens doesn’t really count.
you’re drunk and lando’s worse. tensions boil over at some after party, neither of you can bare it, and he’s shoving his key card into the slot of his door while he sloppily kisses your neck. you cannot take
any responsibility for your actions that night and disregard it as a write off.
explaining away the morning after, when you fuck him again, sober and begging, is a different story.
oh, well.
it happens again. and again, and again, and again.
different cities set the mood and the danger turns you on. you trade your mclaren administrated work shirt for lingerie, and your inhibitions for good sex.
he’s younger, just a couple of years between you, but he doesn’t show it. he makes you forget it, every single time he rearranges your spread limbs on a mattress. he makes you forget his age, and the fact that careers will be over as soon as another soul finds out what you get up to when the chequered flag falls.
lando makes it easy. a flick of the wrist and a curl of the tongue makes you sob, and he smirks into the crease of your thighs every time. and when it’s over, and you’re both spent under linen sheets, you can’t even regret it. not when he makes you laugh until you cry and keeps you warm as you drift off to sleep on the rare occasions that you let yourself stay.
it can’t continue. it can’t, you tell him and yourself. every morning after is punctuated with promises that this is the end. and every time, you manage without each other until the next race weekend, when he looks at you in that knowing way that makes your thighs clench.
-
lando can’t think straight.
he never can when he slides between your thighs. it feels like home.
you’re somewhere in the middle east, he can’t actually remember where right now, not when he pushes deeper and you clamp down around his cock, so hard that he chokes out a shaky breath.
“how do you feel even better every time?” lando groans, grinding into you nice and slow.
you slur out a moan in response, tipping your head back even further as you do. it gives him the perfect opportunity to burrow into your neck, kiss over your collarbone, rock into you harder.
everything is warm, slick. this whole situation, it’s a well oiled machine now. lando sends a text and you turn up five minutes later. he ushers you into the room and then, clothes leave a trail from the door to the foot of the bed. what was once a place holder, a way to get some after a shitty race, had become something to look forward to, something that made his heart race. the anticipation, the danger of you made him weaker than he ever had been.
at first, he hated the hold you had on him. it didn’t mean that he could end this, though, not when he couldn’t help but stare at you in the garage. not when he was transfixed by the glimpse he’d get of your collarbone under your work blouse, or the stray hairs that fell over your face when you were concentrating on the data screens.
“lando, i need- i need…” you gasp, trailing off as you arch even further into his sweat glistening body.
lando smirks, sliding a hand down your
body, pinching your nipple on the way. he already knows what you need. he finds your clit, teasing over it a couple of times.
you lock eyes, warning him to give you what you want. he just grins, licks his lips and continues faint glides over the bud. it sends shockwaves over your body, and you convulse underneath him. you writhe, and writhe, and whimper and keen as your orgasm washes over you. his eyes snap shut, barrelling into you as the pleasure hits.
then, there’s silence.
he lays on top of you while you both return to planet earth, no sound but pants of breath and a soft hum from you when he finally pulls out. you smile softly when you rise from the bed, swinging your shaky legs over the side to stand.
“you staying?” lando breathes. he’s laying on his front, arms flexed as they cross beneath his head.
“not tonight, lando.” you tilt your head apologetically, voice soft and sweet. he frowns. you ignore it, and search for you underwear.
“come on, stay.” he sounds desperate to his own ears, cringing at the way the words come across, but your filter it out. you’ve become an expert at navigating - and more often than not, ignoring - the emotional strings that he tugs on. the ones that attach to your cold, cold heart.
“can’t. you’re gonna have the team here bright and early. ‘m not risking jon seeing me here when he comes to wake you up.” you explain, jumping into your jeans as you tug them up your legs.
“he won’t care.” lando argues, childlike in his negotiating.
“i care.” you scold. you hear the soft thud of his head hitting the pillows. you know you’ve won this round.
lando’s quiet for a while after that, letting you dress yourself. as you’re searching for the bag that you can’t remember if you brought or not, he springs from the bed, making a beeline for the door. you think he’s being gentlemanly, but quickly realise you’re being foolish. the fucker is blocking your exit.
“lando.” you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms, unimpressed.
“i know, i know, i’m gonna let you go. i just…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, pondering his next words.
“you just…” you usher him along.
“i’ll let you go if you promise to have dinner with me over the summer.” he smirks.
“are you… have you lost the plot?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head.
he tried this, sometimes, tried to get you to go on a date, or get you to do something alone that didn’t involve engineering or a surface that you could fuck on. you’d naively thought he was past this.
“can we just try?” he gives you a look somewhere between i want you so bad and the infamous lando norris puppy dog eyes. lava heats your cheeks and your belly, and the butterflies come out of hibernation. you couldn’t deny, you wanted to try. but, at what cost?
“text me.” you murmur, gesturing for him to move.
“so, that’s a yes?” lando questions.
“text me, and i’ll think about it.”
he decides that he’s gotten the best possible answer out of you, and finally let’s you make your great escape.
you almost collapse on jelly-like knees the second the door shuts behind you. standing your ground with him was getting too difficult, too tiresome. the boy was hard fucking work, and he always got what he wanted.
you’d often daydreamed about him taking you out, getting dressed up nice to sip wine and eat too expensive food, and eventually getting undressed. you realised, however, that those kinds of thoughts were to be banished, after you got caught up in fantasies during a race and almost had the pit crew put mediums on during a bout of rain.
wanting him was dangerous. it could be career ending, reputation destroying, heartbreaking.
one date wouldn’t hurt, just to satisfy his appetite. he’d probably get bored eventually. you wouldn’t let it get further than one meal, one last night with him, and then it would stop.
one more time. just one.
-
you’re waiting on your sofa for the text that tells you he’s arrived.
your hair is curled, messy. just how he likes it. you’re wearing something short and black. your high heel taps against the floor as you bounce your leg nervously.
he’d texted, just like you’d told him to, and then a date was set. just one dinner, one time only. you were gonna tell him that, too.
it’s a bit of fun, you think. dinner and shag. companionship. it was lonely on the road, and sometimes each other was all you could have. it made sense, you figured, that he had honed in on you. you’d done the same to him.
just when you think he’s late, there’s a knock on your door. you were an expecting an “i’m here” text, not the full package. after all, this date was just a formality, right?
you try not to shake as you make your way to the door. lando looks so good that you almost cave and say, “sure, let’s give this a go, eh?”. he’s wearing a shirt that fits painfully well, clinging nicely to a delectable frame. the buttons he’s left undone provide a gorgeous window to his collarbone and the necklaces that hang from his thick neck.
“you look beautiful.” he compliments, rakes his eyes over your body.
“don’t look so bad yourself.” you try to tease but it comes out flustered. you ignore the way his eyes light up.
“you ready?” he asks, you nod.
your heart flutters when he effortlessly takes your hand in his.
-
the restaurant is in the middle of nowhere, and you’re the only two people dining. maybe it’s because of the ‘closed’ sign that gets placed on the door when you arrive. so, he’s gone all out, you think. you’re shocked at how hard he’s tried to keep this private. maybe this isn’t the formality you think it is, maybe this isn’t his way of feeling better about meaningless sex. maybe it wasn’t as meaningless as you pretended it was.
he had you belly laughing within minutes, laying the charm on thick. wine and conversation flowed effortlessly and you were quickly regretting saying yes to this. you were in danger.
in a moment of silence, you catch his eye from across the table.
“you know, this is a one time thing, right?” you almost whisper. you almost kick yourself, why would you say that now? it doesn’t even phase him.
“that’s what you think.” he grins, devilish and stunning.
“i mean it.” you smirk.
“sure you do, honey.” he says, it sounds a lot like ‘game on’.
-
you stir, eyes slowly fluttering open. orange light washes over you, dancing in the pair of eyes you find staring back at you.
the eyes watching you sleep belong to the same person whose strong arms are wrapped around you, nice and secure.
you croak out a good morning, and he grins at how hoarse you sound. it was all his fault for making you whimper and scream, begging and crying for a release.
the date had gone really well.
“coffee?” lando offers.
“just the one, need to get home.” you bring things back to reality.
two coffees and four orgasms later, you head home.
-
the blurry pictures of you and him leaving the restaurant make you ill.
no one can quite tell it’s you, not yet anyway. twitter is ablaze.
faceless accounts call the blurry woman in the pictures the cruelest of names. you cry for hours, and then you stop for a bit, cry some more. rinse, repeat.
you pull on a jacket, scramble for your car keys. this time, you’ll mean what you say.
-
there’s a knock on the door.
when he opens it, you shuffle inside like you always do, coat hangs on the hook with a scarf to match. silence lingers until you reach the kitchen. the kettle hisses. you didn’t even know that he knew how to use one.
“this has to stop.” you say. emotionless. inside, agony sinks into every emotional cut and scrape. you don’t let him notice.
“i know.” he agrees. he’s seen the pictures, too. “okay.”
the kettle is forgotten, two mugs abandoned; he carries you to bed.
one last time.
-
two fingers loosen you up for him, drawing you steadily over the edge. he doesn’t stop there, no. he slows right down, letting you ride out your high, but only for a second. he speeds up once again, grinding his fingers into you at godspeed, and you feel your eyes dampen with tears.
your entire body glistens with sweat and your release, the overstimulation making your toes curl and your back arch. you wonder if the tears streaming down your face are just a result of the way his fingers are curling so deliciously against your walls, so good that it hurts, or if it’s because you know this will be the last time he gets his hands all over you.
“lando,” you cry, grasping at nothing. he’s got you naked in the middle of his bed, and he’s still fully clothed, kneeling between your spread thighs like a man on a mission.
his motivation is to make you stay, to make you regret the fact that once this is over, you’re choosing not to come back. his need for you, that raging desire that fuels your every encounter, it has only increased tenfold since the night of your date. but lando isn’t stupid, he knows that after those photos were published the brakes were on this… thing. this was his only chance to convince you to keep this going, but he was fighting a losing battle.
“what do you want, honey? you want me?” lando grunts, speeding up even more. you didn’t think that what he was doing was humanly possible, but the stars you saw and the way your body was practically levitating off the bed said otherwise.
“only gonna have me one last time? is that really what you want, baby?” he continues to run his mouth, crooning over you. you call out his name, begging. begging for another release, begging that you could stay here forever. with him.
and then you see white and god, and you convulse until you’re collapsing into the mattress. your vision is blurry from the tears and the haze and the unwavering emotional torment.
you grab at him, languidly pulling him in. it takes all the strength you have left to secure him, your feet shoving his jeans down his hips while your hands rip his t-shirt off. you’re keening, too sensitive and too needy. you’re agonising over his touch, you need him to sink so deeply into you, so that you can feel him when it’s over and you’re far away from what almost feels like home.
his breath shakes and his eyes gloss over when he pushes into you.
“let me stay like this, just for a minute.” he chokes out. you nod rapidly, your eyes squeezing shut. he kisses into the crook of your neck, panting and mumbling sweet, painful words over and over.
your hands run over golden planes of warmth and muscle, memorising every dip and crease of him. he slowly rolls his hips and your belly clenches, veins set alight. one of his hands scoop up up your wrist, and the motion creates a deep grind unlike anything you’ve ever felt. your wrists are pinned above your head and lando hovers over you so that he stays level, continuing that slow grind, hips hitting yours hard and slow.
he draws a low whine from the back of your throat, one that makes his hips stutter and your pussy clamp down on him as a pleasurable result. you can feel fingerprints forming around the tender skin of your wrists and you want him to dig in harder, slip into your veins and become a permanent part of you.
lando’s eyes are greyer than you’ve ever seen them, boring into your own. you don’t think you ever break eye contact, staring deep into his soul as he stretches every possible part of you. he doesn’t want this to end, you can’t pretend that you do, either.
he changes his angle slightly, long strokes replacing the short drags, but he keeps hitting deep. something possesses you to lean in, as much as you can given his hold on you, and you capture his lips in a kiss that takes him aback for a second. he melts into it, though, and then you’re chest to chest. tongues meet, and moans meld, your legs snake around him like vines.
“need you to come for me, honey. one last time, yeah? need you to feel good for me, baby.” lando mumbles into your mouth, wet and hushed. it’s overwhelming, and everything goes blank. all you are aware of is the burst of pleasure, his hold on your limp wrists, and two grey green eyes that are begging you to stay.
-
you get dressed quickly, whisper goodbye, and disappear out the door. something stops you, and you need clarity, for him more than for yourself.
you peek round the door, finding his unwavering gaze. your forehead creases, awkward anguish. the way you’re looking at him, deep and sympathetic, it makes you ache. this may well have to be the last time you look at him this intently. it stings.
“it’s better this way, you know?” you murmur.
lando nods, begrudgingly, yet obediently in defeat.
and then, once more, you’re gone and the latch on the door clicks somewhere far away in his apartment. he sinks into the bed, drowning in bed sheets and agony. his head thuds against the pillow and he stares out the window. the orange sunset makes his eyes burn. there’s something about the colour that makes him nauseous now that you’re gone.
-
a few days later, you’re in a meeting that you can’t focus on. he’s sat opposite you, not that you spare him a glance. it’s too painful.
you’ve been here for hours, your body becoming one with the office chair that you’re sinking deeper and deeper into.
yes, the car needs to be faster. yes, your heart hurts. yes, we need to up the strategy game.
you zone out, for the umpteenth time, losing yourself in the dark orange sky. it’s getting late. you crave sleep in your lonely bed. while you stare at the swirls and hues of warmth, you shiver.
lando, on the other hand, hasn’t heard a word said since he sat down. not when his eyes instantly find bruised wrists on the other side of the table. they match the bruises on his heart, the ones that you’d left behind when you’d grabbed it, stolen it from its solitude cage.
he watches you watch the sunset, and then the meeting is dismissed and everyone rushes home for dinner.
“who was that you took for dinner, then, noz?” one of the mechanics jeers at lando as you’re leaving the boardroom. those damned fucking photos would never let you sleep well again.
you’re a couple of steps ahead of them, ears perked up. you’re nauseous.
“no one you know.” lando laughs uncomfortably, waving it off. he sounds exhausted.
you fight with the revolving door and rush to your car. you scream as soon as the door slams and you’re in the drivers seat. you thrash against the steering wheel, and then you scream again.
when you compose yourself, and pull out of your parking space, you notice lando’s range rover ahead of you. when you get to the end of the drive, he will turn left, towards london, and you will turn right.
the devil on your shoulder murders the angel in cold blood, silencing the only voice of reason you had left.
when you reach the junction, you turn left, too.
-
yikes. anyways lmao
-
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dollfacefantasy · 4 months
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Restless Dreams
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream
word count: 3.6k
a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus
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“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.
“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”
You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.
It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 
Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.
“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.
“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”
“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.
A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.
“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 
He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.
“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.
“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”
“I better,” you grumble with a smile.
“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”
“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.
“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.
“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.
“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”
“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.
The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.
Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.
Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.
And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.
Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.
Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.
You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.
Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.
He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.
It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.
He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.
His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.
He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.
Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”
But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.
He shakes his head because that couldn���t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.
At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.
You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.
It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.
“Please.”
He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.
You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.
Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.
He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.
In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 
You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.
In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.
You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.
“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.
More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.
Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.
The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.
“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.
“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.
“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.
“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.
You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.
You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.
“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.
You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.
You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.
“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.
Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.
The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.
“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.
His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.
“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.
“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”
Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.
“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.
He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.
You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.
His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.
“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”
As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.
He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.
“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.
Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.
He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.
“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”
You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.
“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”
He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.
“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.
“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.
He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.
“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”
“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.
“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.
You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.
He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.
“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.
“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.
He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.
After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.
“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.
“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”
“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.
That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.
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b0nten · 4 months
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HOW ARE BABIES MADE?
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷。 ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷。 reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.
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RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”
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meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”
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SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.
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TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”
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KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.
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if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.
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IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.
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totheblood · 7 months
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all-american bitch!
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pairing: ellie williams x reader
warnings: mostly fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe.
a/n:i wrote this for my monthly challenge in our writing server, so if you see GUTS themed ellie and abby fics... that's why.... so i chose the song, all american bitch because i thought it would be a difficult write and wanted to challenge myself. so this one is a little shorter and i hope you enjoy! AI AUDIO in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 1k
"with perfect all-american lips."
ellie wanted to hate you.
with every fiber in her being, she wanted to hate you. but as she sat in the student center, laptop open and earbuds in, she couldn’t help but stare. from her place at the table she could see you wide-eyed and grinning, talking to a group of people she didn’t know. when you laughed you touched the shoulder of the guy to your right, but when you smiled you leaned into the girl to your left. she noticed how you looked at people when they spoke, hanging onto every word they were saying. every time the group would laugh at a joke or statement you made, she watched as you nervously fiddled with the necklace loosely hung around your neck with your initial on it. 
she wanted to hate you but she didn’t. instead, she hated everything she thought you represented. the mean girls in the movies or the girl next door. you were somehow all of it wrapped up in one. she didn’t know you at all but somehow you were the perfect all-american -
“bitch!” a girl sitting across from you screamed, throwing her full cup of coke onto your face, causing everyone to stand up and gasp. ellie stood up with them, removing her headphones and ignoring the pull of dina’s hand, asking her what she was doing. 
you wiped the sticky liquid from your eyes, and tried to get as much of it off your face so you could walk back to your dorm. when you began picking up your things and noticed no one was going to follow you, ask if you were okay, or defend you, a tear formed in your eye. you, however, was determined to not cry in front of most of the people that attended this school. instead, you scurried off as quickly as you could.
ellie didn’t even notice she was following you till the brisk fall air hit her face. your feet were moving faster than her mind was going, but she was determined to catch up. 
“hey,” she called out. you didn’t turn around though, you just kept walking. from where she was she could hear your sniffles, “hey! are you okay?”
that got your attention. you stopped, not turning around, and waited for ellie to circle around you and say something.
“are you okay?” she asked again, watching your stunned face. she ignored the bubbling in her stomach at being this close to you. she could see every detail of your face, every crease, every freckle, and every pore. you were prettier up close, “i saw what happened back there… it looked brutal.”
“i’m,” a tear slipped from your face and onto your already damp clothes, ellie was sooooo not looking at your tits right now, “i’m fine.”
“are you sure?” she asked again, eyes searching your face for an answer, “none of your friends came to check on you?”
“i guess they aren’t really friends, huh,” you laughed dryly, wiping at your eye again.
“just shitty ones,” she joked back, “look, do you want me to help you get cleaned up? maybe you can vent to me about whatever the fuck that just was.
your eyes scanned her face this time, “why would you do that? you don’t know me?”
“i think you may be in need of some new friends,” she smiled, making you crack a small one.
“very true.”
------
ellie helped wipe the coke off your face and neck. since it had been sitting on your skin for a while it had gone sticky, and you were getting choked up trying to wipe everything off. plus, ellie was so nice and tender, gently rubbing at your skin and making sure she wasn’t rubbing to hard. she held your face in her hand, turning it and using your roomates expensive facewash to get it clean. when it came to your chest she backed up, saying a, “i shouldn’t.”
“why?” you asked, “we’re both girls.”
“i think i’m supposed to ask you out on a date before doing that.” she chuckled, stepping back a little further, expecting rejection, a slap in the face, anything.
“oh,” you said, eyeing her up and down, head-turning and lips pursed when you saw her tattoos, “could have figured from the tattoo alone.”
“hey! are you saying my tattoo makes me look gay?” she laughed, a big bright smile on her face. this time when you smiled you showed your teeth. ellie’s face turned a bright red, as she looked down. she made you smile, she was proud of that.
“it’s a dead giveaway that you’re gay,” you giggled again. ellie looked up at you, squinting her eyes. 
“if you knew that i was gay then, why did you let me come in and?” ellie’s voice got quiet, she didn’t want you to think she was a creep. it’s not like she came in here to flirt with you, or did she. the way you were looking at her was making all her thoughts mesh together into slush.
“i don’t know,” your voice was teasing, you were fucking teasing her, “maybe i wanted a cute girl to come in here and clean me up.”
“cute?” ellie laughed.
“yeah, cute,” you repeated, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, “like how you’re blushing right now. that’s cute.”
ellie’s face got even redder somehow, causing her to hang her head and pinch the bridge of her nose, “fuck.”
“were you going for hot?” you asked, reaching for her from your place on the bathroom counter, pulling at the sleeves of her oversized t-shirt so she would move closer to you. 
“what about my t-shirt doesn’t scream hot?” she looked up now, and fuck was she close to you. 
“cute and funny,” you smiled, eyes bright, “who would’ve thought?”
ellie looked away again, flustered still, but still in your grasp, “you forgot respectable.”
you laughed and ellie was close enough to feel your breath on her neck. she shivered, but her eyes met yours again.
“when are you going to ask?” you whispered, voice low.
“what?”
“the date?” you clarified, making her smile grow again.
“oh, yeah,” she rubbed the back of her neck nervously, “do you want to go on a date with me?”
“yes.”
1K notes · View notes
andvys · 8 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6
Tumblr media
Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.
Word count: 6k+
A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe &lt;;3
series masterlist
-
Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 
He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.
How will he keep going? 
Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 
The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 
“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 
The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 
“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 
The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 
“Hey Tony.” 
Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 
“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 
Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 
Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 
“With what?” 
Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.
“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 
“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 
“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 
Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 
“Get lost, freak.” 
“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.
Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 
“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 
Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 
“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 
Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 
It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 
Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 
Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 
Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 
How did you even meet him? 
You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 
“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 
Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 
“Tell your old man to come by too.”
“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 
Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 
“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 
“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 
Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 
“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 
Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 
“What do you want, Harrington?” 
Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.
“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 
Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 
Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 
“You’re the stoner.”
Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 
Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 
Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 
“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 
A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 
“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 
“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 
“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 
The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 
Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 
“Put those keys away, dude.”
“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 
“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”
Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 
“I’ll walk.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”
It’s not about that, it’s about you. 
Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 
“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 
Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 
Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”
Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 
“Your music sucks.”
“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.
Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 
The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 
“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 
“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 
You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 
“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 
“By David Bowie?” 
“Yeah.” 
You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.
“Isn’t it sad though?” 
Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 
“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,
and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 
Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 
He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”
“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 
 “Then keep going.”
“No,” you giggled. 
“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 
“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 
You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 
“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 
“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 
Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 
Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 
“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 
Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 
“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 
Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.
Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 
He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 
He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 
“We’re here.” 
Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 
“I miss her.”
Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 
“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”
“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 
Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 
“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”
Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 
“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”
Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 
“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 
Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 
“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 
Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 
Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 
Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 
“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 
“Spit it out, dude.” 
Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 
“T-Take care of her?” 
Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.
“I will.”
Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 
He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 
He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 
He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 
How? 
-
You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 
How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 
Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 
Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 
She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 
Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 
“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 
“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.
She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 
“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 
Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 
“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”
You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”
“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.
“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 
“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”
“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 
She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.
You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 
“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 
You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 
She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.
The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.
The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 
Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 
“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 
You nod, smiling at her. 
“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 
“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 
“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 
Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 
“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 
He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 
“As always,” you snort.  
“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 
“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”
She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.
“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 
“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 
He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 
“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 
“Have fun, babe.” 
You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 
You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 
A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 
“Hey.”
You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 
“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”
You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 
He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 
“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 
“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 
He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”
You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 
You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 
You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 
You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 
You wish you would have stayed at home. 
You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 
You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.
His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 
He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 
None of it makes sense to you. 
If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 
Why is he still with her? 
Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 
The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 
Are they already going downhill? 
Is that why he told you he still loves you? 
So that he has someone to come back to? 
You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 
Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 
It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 
You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 
“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 
Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.
A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”
“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”
You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 
You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 
“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 
He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” 
He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 
“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 
He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 
You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 
“You look amazing, Eddie.”
He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 
“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.
You can’t even help but giggle. 
“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 
He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”
Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 
He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 
“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 
He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 
A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 
"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 
“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.
“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 
Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 
The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.
Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 
Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.
You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.
“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 
“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”
Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”
“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 
“Okay,” she smiles. 
When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 
But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 
His are filled with longing and sadness. 
Yours are filled with indifference. 
You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 
Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.
“Do you want to get out of here?” 
"Yes, please." 
next part
only tagging friends & mutuals
@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can
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quokkawritesarchive · 3 months
Note
heyyyy just let my ex boyfriend of three years play me so hard and he decided to end things with me for a girl he’s known for two months in college,, sooooooo can i request some jisung boy best friend smut who treats reader right and fucks her (me) until she (i) forgets about her (my) ex (FUCK him).
sorry self indulgent request i just dont rly know why i let myself be fooled by a man who never made me cum in three years. i know jisung would get me right🤭🤭
-🤍 anon
TREAT HER RIGHT — JISUNG.
pairing: jisung x reader(afab) genre: smut, NSFW, friends to lovers warnings: switch!jisung, switch!reader, perv!jisung, oral (f. receiving), face sitting, ass slapping (like twice), dirty talk, creampie a/n: i started writing it three weeks ago and went through hell to finish it istg. also… GIRL WHY WOULD YOU DATE A GUY WHO NEVER MADE YOU CUM FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS???? BFFR THE WAY I WOULDN’T EVEN LET HIM FUCK ME SECOND TIME??
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being around you right now was almost dangerous. you were raging and fuming on your way home, because your now ex-boyfriend broke up with you for a girl he’s known for two months. there were so many emotions boiling inside you. you probably should have been crying, but instead you were stomping home angrily, already thinking about how you would tell your best friend everything.
you and jisung have been renting an apartment together for quite some time. he saw all the ups and downs of your relationship with your boyfriend, but never said anything. he was just there when you needed him; and that's why he's been your best friend for so long.
“hanji! you won’t believe what just happened!” you slammed the door open as you sprinted into his room. you were so emotional, you didn’t notice how quickly jisung switched tabs in the browser and stumbled at your sudden appearance.
“what?” his big boba eyes were looking at you, trying to find any clue to your bad mood. he was worried, but mostly in shock.
“dude, just- oh my god! i still can’t process what just happened!”
jisung only shook his head in a sign for you to continue.
“i broke up with my boyfriend.” you crossed your arms over your chest and looked down at your friend.
hatred mixed with anger was still raging inside you, and the surprisingly emotionless jisung did not help you cope with your emotions at all.
“are you joking?”
“well…” you sighed, twitching the sleeve of the sweatshirt. “technically, he broke up with me.”
“are you joking?!” jisung repeated the question in the same manner, but more startled now. yeah, he had a wide range of emotions. you’ve got used to it by now.
it made you go through the events of the last couple of hours again, trying to recount exactly every detail of your dialogue; not forgetting to mention several times what kind of asshole your ex is. while you were busy telling, you didn’t notice the stupid smirk that appeared on jisung’s face. oh, he was not hearing a word. instead, jisung shamelessly studied your features.
“are you even listening to me?!” his aloof expression with a silly grin caused a new wave of anger.
“yeah, s-sorry, i just still can’t process the news.” he highlighted the last word, clearing his throat nervously.
that was unusual. jisung tended to fall out of reality sometimes, but he never neglected your feelings when you needed his support the most. you snorted under your breath and looked back at his desk. only now you noticed a hand cream and a box of tissues on the table.
oh.
“hanji… were you-“ you let out a laugh. “sorry i didn’t mean to interrupt your… activity.”
slowly, jisung’s face turned completely red — a cute blush on his cheeks combined with crimson ears. he was ready to sink through the ground.
“shut up.” he blurted out. “you were so fast i barely had time to shove my dick in my pants.”
it was supposed to come off as a silly joke, but you felt a knot tying inside your stomach. you never thought about jisung masturbating in his room. of course, you knew he did that. obviously, he did that. but you never thought about it. and now…
how many times a day did jisung jerk off in his room? in the shower? when you weren’t home? your train of thought could no longer be stopped.
and then you did something completely stupid.
“c’mon, let’s see what our hanji likes to watch while jerking off…” you hummed theatrically, clicking on the random tab he was trying to hide.
oh.
you definitely did not expect what you saw.
a photo of yourself bending over the kitchen counter. jisung took it secretly while you were busy doing chores, like some kind of pervert.
you quickly clicked though other tabs just to see more photos of you and your ass from different angles and poses. but the last tab caught your attention particularly.
“roommate fucked my face. facesitting and pussylicking using me as a fucktoy” was the title of the video. it was so stupidly written it made you laugh.
your gaze shifted back to jisung. he was not looking at you nor at the monitor. instead, jisung stared at the ceiling, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt.
“oh wow-“ was all you could say.
it was hot. not only in the room, but the sight of him was hot.
a cute blush covered his cheeks. you’ve never noticed before how puffy they are. it must be really soft to sit on them…
“hanji… look at me.”
he refused, closing his eyes instead. the level of embarrassment was already over the board, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to withstand your gaze.
it took him by surprise when you turned his chair around to face you. he squealed loudly and opened his eyes, only to find himself face to face with you. his big boba eyes widened as he tried to sit up in the chair, but you held him by the shoulders, forcing him to stay in place.
“explain?”
jisung mouthed all the swear words he could remember. was there a way out of this situation? he was totally screwed!
in his mind, the moment of his confession should have been the most romantic moment in your relationship, but in reality he was sitting there with his rock hard dick stuffed in his pants and evidence of his creepy behavior all over the monitor.
you didn’t want to let him go so easily. you wanted to hear him stutter a little more, trying to explain his stupid actions. maybe he would finally buy a door lock…
the pressure of your knee parting his legs made him squirm in place. he took a deep breath and finally spoke.
“i dont know what to say, okay?! what do you want to hear?” he looked irritated now. “yes, i jerk off to the pictures of you. yes, i jerk off to the thoughts of fucking you. yes, i do that even when you are home and there is a risk you’ll catch me. yes, i took all those pictures like a total creep. you have full right to kick me out right now. i know i am a total scumbag!”
the speech hit you with the heatwave. the thought of your best friend pleasing himself over you was enough to make you horny. every word he said got imprinted on your brain while you tried not to jump on him and ask him to fuck you.
“who said i am gonna kick you out?” you cooed, cupping his cheek with your palm. as if it wasn’t breathtaking for him already, you boldly invited yourself onto his lap, making him sit up, his hands immediately finding place on your waist.
the dumb confused look on his face made you smile even more. he was totally baffled by your actions, you could see how fast his brain was working, trying to find at least some explanation for what was happening.
that was just the beginning. to tease him a little more, you shifted on his lap, causing his hips to jerk up into you. now his boner was even more evident. he was wearing only grey sweatpants and nothing underneath as a part of his home clothes. that ended up being the reason of his noticeable hard-on.
a desperate moan escaped his lips as his head fell back against the chair. it was so satisfying to watch him fall apart. somehow, he still hasn’t figured out the game you were playing. in his mind, you were just toying with him, about to kick him out on the street any minute. in attempt to control his reactions and gain some control, he gripped your waist tighter, making your breath quicken. you were not only playing with him, but with yourself too.
the precum started leaking through his sweatpants right onto your clothes, but you couldn’t care less. to be honest, you got even more aroused at the thought of his arousal staining your clothes.
the veins on his neck became so visible as he tried to control his facial expression. he was panting, chest rising and falling, his cheeks flushed as his eyes stared at you from beneath his long lashes.
“why are you doing this to me?” jisung whimpered. “i can’t control myself, when you’re sitting on me like that.”
“then don’t control yourself.” you leaned even closer to his face, barely touching his nose with yours.
he could feel your hot breath on his lips. frozen in place, he did not dare to move, afraid to ruin the moment.
satisfied with the tension you created, you finally captured your lips together. it was sloppy, mostly because of his nervousness, but still very arousing. you kept shifting on his lap, making him moan softly in your mouth. you swore that was the hottest thing ever.
you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your best friend beneath you. the look you gave him drove him utterly insane.
“get on the bed.” you simply ordered.
jisung cursed under his breath. his boba eyes widened once again. this boldness coming from you took him by surprise. it was not like he did not want it, his dick was twitching so hard under your ass, but he needed some time to realize that his fantasies had finally become reality.
“c’mon. i won’t ask twice.”
he was so fazed by your first command that he didn’t notice you had already left his lap and made your way to his bed.
it felt like a dream. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous best friend, the girl of his dreams, as his flatmate was one thing, but to have his best friend half-naked on his bed was another thing. your beautiful body was sitting on his sheets, while pieces of clothing flew in different directions. he took a minute to appreciate this act of stripping you pulled for him. in a matter of seconds, you were sitting on his bed half-naked, with a growing irritated look.
“s-sorry! coming!”
dealing with the clothes on the way, he made it to the bed. his eyes never left your body even for a second. god, he wanted to fuck you so bad. the view of you patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. jisung was speechless — from the situation itself, from your actions, from the sudden boldness in your behavior. he always knew you had that confidence. he knew it was somewhere inside you, hidden because your boyfriend hated dominant women. that is also why he wanted to fuck you — just to show you how different sex can be.
the way you pushed his body against the bed made his dick twitch even harder. oh, he was so turned on that he could barely restrain himself from jumping on you and ripping off your panties.
“wanna taste me?” you asked, already making your way to his face.
jisung nodded eagerly in response, making you chuckle. he was so compliant, eager to do anything, just to make you feel better.
“i do. i really want to feel you on my face. please, baby, crush me with your thighs.” the words were pouring out of him. jisung has always been like that — once he started talking, it was impossible to shut him up. maybe that's why your first wish was to sit on his face.
at first you lowered yourself slightly, just to let him get used to the feeling. jisung did not waste much time, immediately starting to lick your folds. his face quickly turned into a wet mess, only gaining pleased groans from him.
“you taste so good…” he moaned into you, keeping his face firmly planted between the slick folds of your cunt.
the way his tongue was working on your clit made you relax and enjoy the moment, so you didn’t realize how you fully sat on his face. you only noticed what you did, when you felt his tongue working harder than before, and his cock started dripping with precum.
“oh, you liked that?” you cooed at him and repeated the same process of sitting on his face with full weight. jisung’s reaction was the same, just slightly more intense with the way his cock shamelessly released an impressive amount of precum.
jisung enjoyed all the interactions you’ve had with his face so far, so the level of enjoyment didn’t decrease when your pussy moved faster and rougher on his mouth.
you watched as his shaft became wet and slippery from his own precum. his hips were bucking up into nothing.
“s-so good— s-so good!” jisung mumbled into your pussy between his licks. he didn’t really care if you thought he was being weird. he had been longing for this moment for so long that he didn't care anymore. “‘m close!”
jisung’s tone was almost shy when he spoke into you. the familiar burning sensation inside his stomach was rapidly building. he was ashamed of himself; he didn’t want to cum untouched, especially during your first sex together. he began to squirm under you from sudden pleasure, which sharply tightened his tummy.
the sight of him grinding his hips into the air made you even wetter. the desperation to relieve himself, your sounds fueled his feral need and desire to keep you all to himself; he craved to fill you up and watch it dribble out of your hole, but now he literally put your needs above his own.
it was breathtaking to see jisung obeying you that easily. you’ve never been able to talk your boyfriend into subbing. he has always been so arrogant, afraid to try something new, to lose his “manly” look...
you shook your head. you didn’t even notice how your thoughts went back to your ex.
“hey…” jisung paused as soon as you stopped grinding on his face. “are you alright? did i do something wrong? you can just tell me, i will stop.”
“no, no. i am fine… it’s just-” you sighed, lifting yourself up from his face completely.
“just?” he raised his eyebrows cutely. the way his mood completely changed with you, made your heart fill with warm. even while being in such position — crushed by your thighs — he was looking at you fondly, ready to take care of you at any second.
“just- want you to fuck me until i forget about my ex. my mind keeps going back to him, i need you to fuck me dumb till i’m out of breath… please?”
jisung’s heart skipped a beat as he heard those words from you. the “please” at the end was so unnecessary, he would have obeyed you anyway.
his forehead was covered in sweat, bangs were smeared on his face, and his mouth was wet from your juices. but he still smiled like a cheshire cat, making you laugh at him.
“whatever you want, baby. i am all yours.” he winked at you, lifting himself from the bed.
he stroked his cock slowly, and the pre-cum dripped down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over the red tip. you quickly positioned yourself with your back arching, allowing him to take you from behind. you still weren't ready to face your best friend in an intimate moment like this. like you weren’t sitting on his face moments ago.
after a couple of strokes, jisung guided his dick to your wet cunt. he rubbed the tip up and down your slit, collecting additional wetness.
with his chest pressed against your back, he slipped his cock inside your cunt with ease. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort. one hand wrapped around your waist to hold you in place, while the other gave your ass a loud smack, making you clench your walls around him. you bit your lip to hide a moan. your didn’t want to sound so desperate… yet.
jisung started huffing short breaths against your skin. his eyes rolled back as he felt the warmth of your pussy engulfing him. your walls were burning in stretch due to the difference in sizes. your pussy was not used to the dick that big. and jisung was definitely bigger in size than your ex. so him fucking into you raw was driving your mind in circles.
jisung was hitting all the right spots. his hand was wrapped around your waist with his fingers finding his way to your clit again. it was so not necessary, his cock was thick enough to provide you all the needed stimulation. his thumb grazed against your clit, as he kept tracing circles, making you squirm and whimper in pleasure. additionally, he spread your folds apart even more, so he could collect your wetness on them.
“how naughty.” jisung whispered into your neck.
you moaned and shivered both from jisung’s dirty words and his dick that was currently filling your pussy perfectly. the pace of his thrusts hadn't slowed down all this time, only growing faster and faster. he really did what you asked him to — fucked you dumb until you were out of breath. you could already feel yourself choking on air.
the room felt hot and sticky. you were starting to feel dizzy, the coil in your stomach just waiting to be snapped the rougher jisung would thrust into you. his tip was hitting that exact spot every time. you’ve never came from vaginal stimulation alone, but it didn't surprise you that it was jisung who was going to make you orgasm in this way.
“f-fuck, faster please…” you cried out, tears started falling down your cheeks. the stretch felt so good; everything just felt so right and perfect. why didn’t you fuck you best friend before?
“faster?! isn’t that fast enough for you, baby?” he was a little taken aback by your words. he tried his best to please you, and to be honest, he was already approaching his limit.
“n-no-“ you sounded so fucked out already. “f-faster, need you to fuck me m-more-“
your frantic pleas only encouraged jisung to increase his speed. he was ready to reach that limit for you. the wet slaps of his cock thrusting into you were filling the room. his hips were not giving you a break. you continuously whimpered, looking like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.
jisung removed his hand from your waist, making his way to your breast, squeezing it harshly. you could just whine, too dumb on his cock to say anything. the pinch of your nipples brought you closer to your release, but then he landed a harsh slap on your ass, making you realize you are seconds away from cumming.
“‘m close! so close! i’m cumming, hanji!” your eyes rolled back and all you could do was hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washed over you.
jisung groaned, trying to help you ride through it.
“wait- where do i-“ jisung asked panicky. he was very close too.
“inside- want it inside. all of it, hanji.” your head was spinning as you said these words.
jisung choked on his spit, but did as you asked.
“shit.” he cursed. his cock twitched, releasing a load of sperm inside you. at a moment like this, you wished you could see he face, while we was cumming. his cum was sticky, dripping from your hole onto the bedsheets, staining everything. jisung breathed out as he finished. “can’t deny, you sounded so hot begging for me to cum inside you.”
your breathing has finally returned to normal. you chuckled at his words tiredly. suddenly, all the energy was drained from you body. you collapsed on the bed, allowing jisung to tug you into his embrace. the heat rushed to your cheeks when it finally hit you with a realization.
you just fucked your best friend.
and it was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.
-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡
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