Tumgik
#they think you just need some time to breathe and not work so hard but instead you stsrt to spiral
sttoru · 2 days
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.
tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t
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“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.
toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”
you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.
“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.
it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.
“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.
you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.
toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”
you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.
toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.
“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.
it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.
toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.
“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”
megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.
though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;
“mama papa kissing!”
you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”
toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.
you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.
“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.
you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.
“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”
after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.
megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.
“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.
megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”
that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—
“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.
megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.
you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.
toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.
“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.
you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.
toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.
“so, where were we?”
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drudyslut · 14 hours
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Office Hours — R.C
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request: Hi!! Can you write like a CEO rafe and his wife who comes to visit him at the office and he fucks her on his desk where everybody can hear her moaning his name and then he walks out all smug, leaving for the day to continue pleasing his wife at home (from anon)
CW: CEO!Rafe, wife!reader, semi public sex(?), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, breeding kink. and i think that’s it.
likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated<3
note: CEO Rafe is so sexy to me, and this is an NYC AU, not in the OBX💞
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Rafe always loved when you came to visit him at work. Your husband had a very busy schedule, multiple meetings, business trips, and visiting location sites for new businesses he wanted to open up.
It was a rarity that you caught him in the office, alone and with some time to spare for you.
So when he called you today, asking you to come in to the office to see him, you jumped on the opportunity.
“Mrs. Cameron, he’s in his office waiting on you.”
You smile at Rafe’s assistant, nodding your head as you make your way down the long hallway of the building. Reaching the end of the hall, you stand in front of his office door, Rafe Cameron, CEO, is in big bold letters across the middle.
You push the door open, — not bothering to knock since he knows you’re coming — and find him sitting behind his desk, his office phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke sternly to whoever was on the other end.
He looks up, bright blue eyes finding yours as he smiles softly, “I gotta call you back.” he says to whoever was on the other end of the line, hanging up before they can even respond.
“Hi beautiful.” he says, smiling and standing from behind his desk, making his way toward you.
You smile widely, shutting the door behind you and meeting his steps, wrapping your arms around his neck and lifting on your toes to kiss his lips. “Hi handsome, I’ve missed you.”
Rafe melts against your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. His hands slide down your body, wrapping around your waist, large hands gripping your ass firmly through your tight black leggings.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. “I’ve missed you baby, I promise, I’ll take some time off soon and we’ll go to the house in the Bahamas, spend some real time together, okay?”
You smile up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod your head in agreement. Rafe dips his head down, his lips finding yours again and slowly kissing you.
His tongue makes its way into your mouth again, brushing with yours as his hands begin roaming the expanse of your body. You moan softly into his mouth when his fingertips rub against your clothed thighs. It’d been a few days since you’d had your husband, and you were craving him, in more ways than one.
“Rafe, I need you.”
He smiles against your lips, backing the two of you up until your back hits a wall. He presses his hips into you, the feel of his already hard cock pressed against your clothed core making your breath catch in your throat.
“Yeah? My wife wanna be fucked in my office? Let everyone hear how good I make her feel?”
You suck in a sharp breath, mumbling a one word response, “Yes.”
His eyes darken and he places his hands on the underside of your ass, lifting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to his desk, setting your ass down on the sleek wood surface. You watch him intently as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off and leaving his broad, tanned chest and abdomen on display.
You reach out to run your fingers down his abs, but he slaps your hands away. “Nuh uh, baby. No touching.”
You frown, letting out a frustrated sigh that makes Rafe smirk. “You gonna be a fuckin’ brat? Huh? Just let me know, I can make you wait if that’s what you want..”
Your eyes go wide, shaking your head fast as you say, “No no no, ‘m sorry baby, I just… I need to feel you.”
He smirks, popping the button on his black dress slacks before working the zipper and shoving them down his legs, letting the material pool at his feet. Your eyes trail from his face down to his tight black boxer briefs, the hard, thick outline of his cock pressed firmly against the thin material.
“See something you want baby?” he teases, placing his right hand over his hard-on, squeezing himself lightly, a low, raspy groan escaping him.
Your thighs squeeze together, your eyes glued on his hard dick. “Yes. Want your cock, need to feel you stretch me, please.”
Rafe growls, taking one long step toward you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your leggings, ripping them down your legs. He hisses in a breath when he sees you’d opted for no panties today.
“Fuck, you plan this? To come in here and seduce me during office hours?” 
You can’t contain the mischievous smirk that spreads across your lips. “Maybeeee.”
“Mhm, my wife is such a fucking slut. I love it.”
You open your mouth to respond, but Rafe slapping your cheek has you gasping instead. The sting from his hand has more arousal pooling between your legs, and you whine, your clit throbbing with need.
“Rafe, please. Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, it’s been four days, I-”
Rafe shuts you up, his lips aggressively finding yours. He wraps his fingers into the back of your hair, pulling your head back to allow him better access to your mouth. His tongue finds yours, fighting for dominance while his free hand slides its way under your ass, lifting you up just enough so your soaked cunt is level with his hard dick.
He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling your lips from his as his darkened over eyes find yours. “Ready for me baby?”
You whimper out a small “yes” and he removes his hand from your hair, using the now free hand to grip his cock in his hands. He strokes himself softly, spitting down onto the base and spreading it around his length with his hand.
He scoots your ass further down the desk, running his swollen head through your arousal slick entrance before he slowly pushes into you. You hiss in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to push into you agonizingly slow.
“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”
A loud moan slips past your lips, the feel of his thick cock stretching you out making your brain short circuit.
“F-ffffuck, Rafe. Please move, need to- need to feel you move..”
A low growl rumbles in Rafe’s chest, and he slowly pulls out, slamming himself back inside of your warm, wet cunt. You gasp loudly, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails digging into the soft skin of his back.
Rafe begins to roughly pound himself into you, his left hand under your ass and keeping you pressed into him while he right hands makes it’s way around your throat, squeezing hard and forcing your eyes on him.
“This what you wanted? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you like a slut in my office, let all my employees hear you fucking scream for me?” He pauses, removing his right hand from your throat and smacking at your face again, a deep, red handprint left burning on your cheek. “Go on, fucking scream baby, let everyone in this goddamn place know who the fuck owns this sweet pussy.”
You’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your brain is so foggy from how good his cock feels buried deep inside you, how his filthy words and aggressive actions on your body turn you on even more. You can’t form a coherent response, and this only pushes Rafe to be meaner, and fuck you harder.
He slowly pulls himself from you, making you whine at how empty you feel without him filling you. His large hands grip at your hips, lifting your ass from the desk and flipping you so your stomach lay flat on the surface now. He slaps at your ass harshly, making you scream in pain and pleasure. “Answer me! Who the fuck is making you feel this good? Hmm? Who owns this fucking pussy, baby?”
He slams back into you, his hands firmly planted on your hips so he can pull you back to meet each of his thrusts.
Screaming his name, you answer his question. “You! You, Rafe. Feel so fucking good! You own my pussy, all for you!”
He slaps your ass again, a dark chuckle falling from him, “That’s right baby, I fucking own you and this sweet fucking pussy. Never forget that, aight?”
Tears fill your eyes, your pussy clenching tightly around your husband’s thick cock as he repeatedly pushes in and out of you at a fast and rough pace. “Y-yes sir. Never gonna forget it, fuck!”
The first few tears spill past your eyes as Rafe continues to brutally fuck himself into you from behind. Your walls clench around him tightly, strings of curses and moans slipping past your lips. “Fuck, Rafe. Ah ah, s’close baby, fuck!”
Rafe leans forward, the weight of his body on your back as his lips hungrily kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. “Go on baby, make a fucking mess on my cock and desk, let go f’me.”
That was all it took, Rafe kissing harshly at your neck and his permission to let go sent you tumbling over the edge, your pussy tightening once more as you came undone around him.
He fucks you through your high, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he curses under his breath. “Gonna cum baby, gonna fill this pretty little pussy up, make you a mama. You want that? Wanna have my babies?”
“Y-yes! P-please! Want your cum, Rafe! Wanna have all your babies, fuck, please please.”
Rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he pushes into you a few more times. You let out a loud moan when you feel his hot cum spill inside you, painting your inner walls white.
“Fuck!” Rafe shouts as his hips slow, burying himself to the hilt and stilling inside you.
Your body collapses onto the desk, the cool surface feeling good against your hot, sweat slick skin. You wince when Rafe pulls his softening cock from inside you, pulling up his boxers and slacks before grabbing his white button up off the floor.
You hear him disappear into his private bathroom that’s in his office, the sound of the sink turning on making you lift your head from the desk.
He walks behind you, gently laying your head back down as he brings the warm, wet hand towel between your legs and cleaning you up. Once finished, he tosses the damp towel to the side, pulling your leggings back up your legs and lifting you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your head resting against his firm chest. “I’ve missed you, thank you for that.” you say softly.
Rafe dips his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your tangled hair before whispering, “You’re welcome, baby. ‘M yours for the rest of the day.”
You lift your head, brows furrowed in confusion when you hear his office door open, multiple sets of eyes on the two of you before they all avert their eyes to the ground. You hide your flushed face in his neck, not wanting the attention on you when you know everyone knows what just took place in your husbands office.
You hear Rafe speak, “Angie, forward all my calls for the rest of the day. I’m going home for the day, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
His assistant clears her throat awkwardly, letting out a quiet “Yes, Mr. Cameron.” before Rafe begins walking the two of you out of his work building and to his car.
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At who's the best at
Paige Bueckers x Fem reader
Warnings: Slowburn (?), curses, sexual inunendos
A/N: I couldn't think of a title 😭 I am so sorry. Other characters are from my imagination, they are not related to NCAA at all. Had to get this ideas out of my head.
Y/N was panting, hands on her knees after doing laps across the court. Today is hell, Geno is not taking it easy on them, the training is tougher compared to the previous months as their team is advancing to Elite 8. She thanked the cardio gods for being on her favor today or she will pass out. Taking one last deep breath, she put her both hands on her waist and walked towards the three point shot perimeter. Qadence pats her on the back while she is dribbling for a three point shot.
"Take it easy babe." She nodded at Qadence before shooting the ball. Another miss.
"Miller!" Geno motioned to come to him. Y/N sighed and jog towards her coach's direction.
"Kid, do you see this?" Geno handed her his clipboaard with her stats on it.
"This is from the last game against Duke."
Y/N scanned her stats, and it is much better progress compared to their match against Sycaruse and Jackson State.
"Yeah and it will get more better if you can hoop today. What the hell is wrong Miller? Shade and Edwards blocked you three times today. You don't get blocked thrice based on these stats. What's wrong kid?"
Y/N didn't respond and remain silent. It shows in the practice that she is preoccupied today.
"Nothing Geno, it's just......" she trailed off thinking of what she should say.
"I'll do better. I'll make sure to clear my mind before practice so I can focus." Y/N continued, bowing her head slightly. She had to prove to UConn women's basketball team that they will not regret accepting her back when she transferred here during her 2nd year. But Geno doesn't seem to be convinced of her answer.
"Alright. I am expecting much better results in our next practice. We can't make excuses once USC had our asses in our match. Go take a swim or a run in your neighborhood or whatever later, you're not yourself today and I don't want to see you like a vegetable during practice."
Y/N nodded and Geno gave her an encouraging pat on the back before letting her go back to practice. It made her feel a little better but her day is still shitty.
----
Y/N's phone keeps vibrating, this is the umpteenth time her parents called her today. She doesn't want to answer it, it will be divorce probably. It already threw her game off today and she doesn't want to ruin her day more by answering it.
Mum:
talk to me hun, please
Hun, we are sorry, I know this will be hard for you.
Do you hate us?
I'm sorry, love. It's not working anymore between me and your dad.
Dad:
Peanut, please answer your phone.
I'm sorry.
We wanted to tell you for a long time.
---
Y/N turned off her phone. With a deep sigh, she ate her tacos. She's got a lot on her plate now, her studies, her upcoming match, and now her parents divorce. She wanted to take a break.
"Boo, you okay? You're preocuppied the whole day." KK finally asked. Her teammates have been giving each other knowing looks and tiptoeing around her all day. They are not used to her being silent. She went out with them tonight hoping it will take off some things in her mind.
"I'm fine girl. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bad today." She smiled at KK. She's not ready to talk yet not until she's able to come to terms with her family.
"You suck, Miller. Paige is getting full of herself today and you're too preoccupied to humble her."
Paige almost choked on her shirley temple, she took a napkin and wiped her mouth.
"Me? Full of myself? Come on Aubs." Paige scoffs.
"Miller just realized today I don't need humbling, I'm actually good." Paige raised her eyebrows playfully followed by their teammates violent reactions.
Y/N grinned. She had to thank Paige for diverting their teammates from pressing on what's going on with her. The subject of being the best shooter between her or Paige became a daily banter. Paige was not unwelcoming when Y/N transferred in UConn but her competitive ass made sure to show why she was here first instead of Y/N. Y/N admits that Paige is actually better than her and the best all rounder, her transferring here seemed challenged the latter on who's best at what. She doesn't know why Paige thinks she has competition when she is actually the best. She likes to get on Paiges nerves so she gets along with Paige's imaginary contest.
"Get outta here Bueckers, I can do what you did earlier even with a hangover" Y/N said, giving Paige a sheepish grin. Paige made 43 consecutive 3 point shots, it got into her head today without Y/N beating it. It always annoy Paige when Y/N's record is close or beat hers.
"Oi, enough you two." Azzi stopped them before it could start to bickering. Y/N raised both her hands in surrender. She took a sip of her margaritas while still giving Paige a cocky grin. Now the latter looks annoyed.
They continued having fun, dancing and drinking. Y/N didn't move that much from her seat, she's tired and the margarita must've probabaly hit already.
"I'm just gonna go to the restroom." She excused herself. Feeling dizzy Y/n groaned, guess she will have that hangover tomorrow.
She decided to turn on her phone and was still bombarded with texts from her parents. Her mum's name popped on the screen and decided to answer it finally.
"Honey, I'm glad you answered. I've been calling all day." Her mom sounded worried on the other line.
"Sorry mum. Busy."
Her mother sighed. Y/N doesn't exactly know what to say, she is still processing that her parents will have a divorce. Out of 23 damn years, they just decided now that they don't need each other?
"Honey I.... I am so sorry. If you could come home soon we could have a talk, with your dad and I."
Y/N rolled her eyes.
"I am not going home, mom. California is 2000 miles away, I have an upcoming game in 2 weeks, and I am busy for my finals. What's the point? Your going to sell the house anyway now that you are getting divorce."
She didn't mean to sound mad over the phone, but she is really upset.
"I will call you when I am ready to talk to you both. If you two want a divorce, fine, but give me time to process that my parents don't need each other anymore after 23 damn years."
She didn't wait for her mother's response and hang up.
------
Paige went back to their booth joined by a tipsy Nika after their teammates are gone to god knows where. Dancing or probably making out with someone.
"Hey P, have fun! You're awfully behave tonight. Loosen up, it's weekend tomorrow."
Nika nudged her and throw an arm over her shoulder.
"I'm good, Ma. I don't want hangover tomorrow. Besides, someone has to stay sober to make sure you all get home safely."
Nika scoffed, rolling her eyes at her teammate. It's their last free night before Geno will give them total hell in preparation against their match with USC.
"You're boring me P. I'll go join the others and have fun being miserable here. Have you se---" Nika wasn't able to finish her sentence when a commotion started in the middle of the bar. Recognizing the 6 foot tall asses of their teammates in the scuffle, the two ran towards their direction.
"What in the fuck happened?" Nika felt her slight tipsiness gone, helping KK reach Ayanna who's ready to take a swing to an athlete from Yale. The bouncers are trying to separate them before it ends up to a total brawl. Paige scanned where the others are and her eyes landed on Y/N, her sleeves are up, Aubrey blocking her from punching another Yale athlete.
"You don't talk shit here, dawg. Go back to New Haven and fuck your slutty girlfriend!"
Paige grabbed Y/N by the waist and dragged her out of the scene. For someone who is always cool and at her composure, she was surprised that Miller can trash talk.
"Calm down, Miller. You don't get to injure that million dollar hands." With Azzi trailing behind, she brought Y/N outside and pinned her on the wall to calm her down. She looks disheveled, some of her locks escaped from her ponytail, her face is red, her sleeves are uneven and she is reeking of alcohol. What a total mess.
"What in the world was that Y/N, I know you guys don't start fights but you all are better than this. Gosh, how many drinks did you have? You are reeking of alcohol!" Azzi said frustrated.
Y/N scoffs, wiping some sweat on her forehead. Paige couldn't agree more with Azzi. They don't start fights, Y/N never looses her cool even during their banters at who is best, intense matches and bad calls from ref. Paige wonders what made her so worked up that she almost punch someone today.
"Nah, I was cool Az. I took shots from everyone, sorry I lost count."
The 2 of them grimaced. They check Y/N if she had any injuries, Geno will kill them if they are scathed and once he hears about this. Azzi wonders as to why Yale women's basketball are in Storrs. That's like an hour drive just for a night's drink.
"God you are drunk and you can take a fight." Paige said amused. She never saw Y/N got drunk because she never was.
"Oh yeah Bueckers, wanna try? Let's take it here outside." Y/N stood straight, her face annoyed.
Well that was hot. Paige thought. She raised her hands in surrender before Y/N gets totally pissed. Y/N haven't landed a punch but it might be on Paige if she triggers the latter. Azzi gave her a scolding look.
"Chill, Ma. T'was a compliment."
Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall again. She's starting to feel hazy.
"What did they do anyway?" Azzi asked.
"Douchebag's girlfriend was offering me a drink, I declined. She thought I want to fuck her slutty girlfriend and proceeds to call us defects, the others heard it, we didn't mind until she pushed Aaliyah."
Paige clenched her jaw and Azzi rubs her temple. Half of the team suffered injury in the past year. Paige wished she hadn't grabbed Y/N and let her land her fist first before fleeing from the scene, it was uncalled for. Drunken Miller surprised them tonight, they didn't know that her mouth can talk.
"That's it, we are all getting home. I'm gonna go get the others." Azzi left them outside.
"Yeah Azzi and tell that cunt to fuck her girlfriend properly."
Paige shook her head. Y/N is definitely the highlight of tonight's event.
"What got you so worked up today, Miller? You almost took it out on someone."
KK was right, Y/N was preoccupied. She didn't have any baskets during practice. Paige had 29 3 points in a row today, usually Y/N comes close or even beat her. It's unusual for someone who plays ball since 5th grade, she just did laps all day.
Y/N groans. "I'll talk about it tomorrow when I'm sober. can you take me home please? Paige."
Paige, licked her lips and pretends to think about it. She's gonna do it anyway.
"I never thought you were into girls." Paige blurted out. She mentally slapped herself right after. Her intrusive thoughts won.
"You guys never asked. I never said I was into boys either. So annoying."
For some reason, Paige couldn't keep her smile off. She was grinning like and idiot. Y/N noticed and she rolled her eyes, Paige looks stupid.
"You look like an idiot Bueckers."
"Maybe I am."
She twirls her car keys and they started to walk where she parked her car. She's behind Y/N who's trying to keep a straight-face and herself from stumbling.
Azzi and KK following them, KK still heated from the commotion earlier and keeps trash talking. Azzi is trying to cover her mouth for being loud. KK, Azzi, Nika and Y/N rode with Paige. The others were at Aaliyah's car since they live together in the same apartment. Paige shook her head, they are all dead on Monday.
-------
Y/N woke up, her head pounding and throat dry. She groaned when she tried to get up. She knew immediately it was bad last night to have a hangover like this, she rarely gets drunk and when she does, she has it bad. She jolted up when realizes that this is not her room. The bed sheet is purple, there are Miami Heat posters everywhere and the trophies are too many to be hers. Not until she saw the familiar number 5 jersey hanging on the wall.
"Fuck, what did I do last night." She whispered to herself. This must be Paige's room. She tries recalling the events of last night and vaguely remembers the Yale athlete talking shit. She almost got involved in a brawl.
Y/N got up from bed only to realize that she is wearing Paige's clothes, it's one of her old team USA shirts, nothing else and her boxers. It's already 2 in the afternoon, she could hear the ruckus outside Paige's room and KK's rambunctious laugh.
She opened the door and was greeted by the chaos of her teammates.
Y/N winced when the pounding of her head hits again. She sat down on one of the bean bags and leaned her head back trying to ease the headache. In an instant, Paige handed her a bottle of water and a tylenol. She gave Paige what is this for ? look.
"Your hangover, duh."
"Ya'll our sleeping beauty is awake." KK sat beside her but she was waiving where Ice was. Ice was doing live on the corner, and she didn't realize that where she is is being captured. Gosh she looks horrible.
"Guys, they wanna know something. You remember we did a tiktok of who among in the team you don't want your kid to date..... They want the opposite."
Qadence was quick to shout "Aaliyah" followed by KK's "Y/N"
"Yeah, I'll go with Y/N too." Ice agreed
"Y/N will throw hands, I'll bet on her too." Aubrey added.
" 'bout you, Paige?"
The team groaned when Paige showed her "rizz hands."
"Will we go further? I'll let my kid date myself." The team erupted in disagreement. Nika throws a pillow towards Paige's direction. "Dream on Bueckers!" Y/N shakes her head too.
Paige is a gender bender, the amount of fans she has be it a boy or a girl is insane. She may look like a fuck-boy type but she'll be a good girlfriend, the question though is, can they take her superstar life?
"Y/N, they wanted to know who you want your kid to date." Ice turned towards her. Y/N straightened her back a little, enough only to face Ice.
"No one, you guys loves ball more than relationships." Everyone burst in laughter.
"You heard our homie? We're not playboys/playgirls, basketball is life." Ice said in live while giving a thumbs up.
"Nawww! she's just playing safe!" KK shouted.
" Y/N is so fine, I think I'll start watching live " Ice reading through comments.
Y/N suddenly felt conscious. She moved where the camera can't see her so she can deal with what's left of her hangover.
" Does Y/N have a boyfriend or what? Saw her in Stanford before and what the hell is she doing on the court, go model in a runway or something--- Yo! Someone said you should model Y/N!" KK is reading along with Ice now.
Y/N blushed on the compliment(?). She couldn't think of herself as someone who walks on a runway or pose for a magazine aside from playing ball. She's no Cameron Brink who could pass that criteria.
"Maaaaan, they are all whipped to our girly pop. We've been gatekeeping our secret weapon."
Some of her teammates joined KK and Ice in reading the comments.
"Y/N c'mere they want to see you."
Y/N doesn't want to be rude by not saying even a "hi" but she really feels shit right now. She look around the room and her eyes landed on Paige, begging for help.
"Y'all sorry but Miller is not feeling well, you'll get to see her in Gampel soon. Be sure to be there." Paige shouted while throwing an arm around Y/N's shoulder. They are both far from the camera, Y/N waived though from where they are.
"Thank God." Y/N muttered and leaned on Paige's shoulder and she felt her stiffened.
Ice wrapped up her live leaving disappointed viewers to only see a glimpse of Y/N. All of them went back to their chaotic self.
--------
A/N: Please stay tuned for the next part. I think I have a hangover too 🤮. Wrote this when we were at the bar. Feedbacks and suggestions are open.
ALSO..... DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHO DOES THE GIRLS HAIRS DURING THEIR GAMES? DO THEY HAVE A HAIRSTYLIST OR WHAT?? PLEASE HELP A GIRL OUT. 😌
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brnesblogposts · 3 days
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monster in his nightmares
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pairing bucky barnes x reader
warnings ANGST!!!
a/n can you guys let me know if you can click on my master list and are directed to my fics because it’s not working for me.
reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed !
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You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe. Your neck is being squeezed so tight your vision spotting as panic takes over.
“Bu- Bucky” You whisper as best you can in broken breathes, he doesn’t know he’s doing it. He never does, his nightmares are vivid and so real to him and he can’t control his physical reactions, tears are rolling down your face as you move your hand to grip his metal wrist and try loosen his grip, you don’t want it to have to come to violence but the fear you might die and the fear he’d spend the rest of his life feeling guilty for something he couldn’t control- you start kicking him, kicking and hitting. Wake up, wake up you think to yourself
‘No. Stop. Please. Dont put me back in the chair, dont wipe my mind again’ Bucky thinks to himself in a panic as Hyrda agents push him back, how did they find him? how was he tricked into being taken again and now his memory wiped of everything he loves- his memories of you- ‘No.’ The thought of losing you is enough to make him push through and use all his strength, he takes his metal hand and wraps it around the nearest agents neck, it call kicks off into a frenzy then but he fights through it, he watches as the life drains out of the agents face.
“Bu- bucky?” What? No they don’t- they call him soldat- who’s speaking, who’s kicking him? this man he’s strangling sounds like a woman? odd. what’s happening?
He’s in a room, it’s dark. He’s on something soft, a mattress? They don’t give out those in Hydra so he can’t be back with them, who’s underneath him?
“You’re okay” Strangled sobs, you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. “Bucky” You all but desperately whine, that’s when he really wakes up.
Bucky shoots back quickly sitting on his knees as you take in deep breathes of oxygen and rub at your aching throat, he’s bewildered, did he? He hurt you. He hurt his doll.. He jumps off of the bed and backs away, he’s shaking, sweating, he’s starting to violently sob as reality comes crashing down. He almost killed you.
You finally get enough air in your lungs to notice Bucky is gone, you sit up and your heart breaks as you see him sitting against the wall on the other side of the room, looking at his metal hand like it’s a weapon, like he’s sickened by the sight of it. Getting up slowly you approach him and crouch in front of him, at the approach of your hand he flinches.
“No” That one word holding so much pain.
“Get away from me, I- I don’t wanna hurt you anymore Doll” He’s not looking at you, he can’t. If he sees the state of your neck, the bruises he’s left-
“Bucky” You whisper quietly as he shakes his head again, it’s hard for him to comeback down from nightmares but you don’t know what to do in this particular situation, he’s never hurt you because of them before, not this bad.
“It’s not your fault” You reassure him, not expecting an answer but you hope to get through to him, that the reassurance and love you show him right now will help him see he’s not the man in his nightmares.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me” You say as you sit down across him him still giving him space as he holds his head in his hands and cries.
“I’m okay” You don’t care how long you have to sit here, as long as Bucky needs you’re gonna be there for him.
You sit in silence for a few minutes and just watch him as he takes some deep breathes, a technique he learnt in therapy, you get up and grab him some water leaving it by him for him to take in his own time, he does eventually and takes small sips.
A record is playing softly in the background he notices, one of his favourites. He senses your presence, he knows you’re there but he doesn’t understand why. He almost killed you, why aren’t you running away from him?
“I-i’m dangerous, you should get away from me-” He wont meet your eyes.
“I trust you, Bucky.” You don’t know what else you can say to reassure him, he just needs time to come down from this.
“How?” He looks at you now, grimacing as he sees the bruises on your neck. “How can you trust me, look what I did.” He’s so ashamed.
“You didn’t mean to. You were having a nightmare, we can work this out, we can talk to some doctors and see how to get your physical reactions to nightmares under control Buck. If you think i’m leaving because of this you’re wrong. I’m fine, you came out of it and i’m okay” Tears build up behind your eyes but Bucky is so fragile and vulnerable right now you’re trying to be strong for him.
He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes wet with tears and his face one of shock horror, you can’t hold it back anymore you start to tear up.
“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, I wish I could take it all away, I really wish I could.” You reach your hand out in hopes he’ll let you have that little bit of contact and he does, he takes your hand albeit cautiously and at the contact you start to cry harder.
“You don’t deserve any of it, Buck. You never did. You’re the best man i’ve ever met and your heart is so pure. It makes me so mad to think about what you’ve been through and how it will stick with you for the rest of your life. It’s fucked up and I wish- I wish I could- I want to kill everyone who has ever been bad to you or used you.” The frustration of having to watch Bucky suffer the severe PTSD that he does hurts your heart, it causes your chest to actually ache because he is so sweet, so gentle.
“Don’t cry” Bucky says in response as his heart is being ripped out of his chest at the sight of you so upset. “There’s no need to cry” Despite everything he’s been through seeing you even just the tiniest bit upset hurts him more than anything ever could, so it’s for that reason that he looks past the fear he’s holding and leans forward to pull you into his chest.
You instantly curl up, this is so grounding for Bucky, feeling your heartbeat against his, your skin on his skin, it’s so intimate for him in times like these where he’s taken back to times when he never received simple love like touch, now more than ever he cherishes it.
“Buck-“ You croak out as you kiss his face all over, trying to show just how much you love him. He shushes you and rocks with you, his head clearing and eyes drying up. Your presence alone does more than therapy ever can.
So you both sit there for awhile, the only sounds to be heard is the both of you breathing. You stroke comforting hands up and down Buckys back and through his hair, he relaxes into your touch, into the moment, present. No longer stuck in his nightmare he’s now in a dream, being with you is a dream.
After awhile you speak up “Do you want to go back to bed? Or we can go into the living room and watch a movie or a tv show? Whatever you wanna do” You would do anything for him to be okay, you would take his trauma and deal with it yourself if you could if you knew just for a second that he would finally be at peace in his own mind.
He thinks for a second, contemplating.
“The beds kind of- it’s- too fresh in my mind you know? You can go back to bed baby i’ll go to the cou-“
“No” You cut him off “I’m with you, i’m not leaving your side.” He smiles because he’s grateful for you, with that he stands up, you still clinging to him like a koala and moves the both of you to the couch laying down with you on top of him.
“What do you wanna watch?” He asks.
“Anything you want, whatever is gonna make you feel better” Your hands are in his hair again.
He puts on a lighthearted sitcom that makes the both of you laugh as he strokes his hands up and down your back soothing not just you but himself, the contact keeping him in the moment. That’s how the both of you spend the next hour or so before you hear Bucky snoring lightly, finally sleeping nightmare free and you join him, ready to comfort him should he be woken up again.
a/n i started writing this a few weeks ago and then i got busy and then i fixated on something else but anyways i finished it! kind of hate it now tho but i haven’t posted in awhile,
taglist- @ktgsoul @orihimi-19 @mostlymarvelgirl (let me know if you wanna be added to a permanent bucky taglist)
divider by @/cafekitsune
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undead-supernova · 3 days
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Masterlist / 18+
Part 1 - Boring
pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
plot: eddie runs into you unexpectedly and you think it's time to have that date a little early
contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, get to know Eddie and the reader a little better, making out, kids this is a bit more than pg-13 I'll tell you that much without spoiling it
note: sorry guys, I'm not done with this. maybe far from it. they have a dynamic unlike any other and I'm here for it.
wc: 4k
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The library was maybe the last place Eddie wanted to be at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was always overcrowded, riddled with students running around with coffee from the adjoining Starbucks. 
But Eddie needed a new book, having told himself that rereading The Hobbit the third time this semester was…unnecessary. Plus, his English professor told him that “we can only enact change ourselves.” 
Maybe it was a sign. Because as Eddie passed the large glass windows, he saw you sitting at one of the booths.
You looked different from every Saturday night. No makeup, hardly any jewelry except for a thin gold necklace and several rings. An oversized t-shirt and, from his vantage point, you were wearing a pleated skirt. He even noticed that your high-top Converse were placed next to you, mismatched patterned socks adorning your feet. 
And, fuck, Eddie couldn’t help the excitement rising inside him. It should’ve embarrassed him when he started jogging towards the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he could think about was the sound of your voice and your eyes and your touch and your kiss.
He slowed his pace as he walked past the printers and computers and found your head down in some textbook, blissfully unaware.
“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked.
And when you looked up and smiled, he could’ve sworn his heart swelled and burst like a goddamn balloon.
“Oh my gosh, hi!” you exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here!”
It was only for a few seconds, but he couldn’t resist breathing in your intoxicating perfume and memorizing the feel of you. The curve of your back, the soft fabric of your sweatshirt scratching against his calloused fingertips.
And as you sat back down, he realized quickly why your mere touch was so alluring. It was a reminder that Saturday had been real and, on this grueling Tuesday, you still cared about his existence. You still noticed him.
“I was coming to look for something new to read,” he answered, trying to figure out what to do with his hands and failing. “What about you?”
Eddie couldn’t decipher your now raised eyebrow, watching as you lifted your pointer finger. “Sit down,” you nearly demanded, eyes flickering from him to the booth. His heart hammered in his chest as he complied, eyeing your finger following his movements. 
It was despicable how easy it was for you to get him to do whatever you wanted. Even just fucking sitting down. But he loved it. Every. Fucking. Second.
“I was in the stacks looking at the archives,” you explained. “But everyone in my class took them already.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Such bitches.”
“How rude,” Eddie said, all teasing with an amused smile.
He could tell you liked it, biting your lip slightly before playing along. “I know, it’s offensive.”
There was something he noticed in your expression, placing your lip back between your teeth as you scanned him up and down. Eddie was unable to keep a smile off his face, overwhelmed by the attention you gave him. Like he was a meal, but something to be savored rather than merely devoured.
He couldn’t help it when he returned the sentiment, glancing down at your skirt that was riding further and further up your thighs. It wasn’t the time to think about you like that, spread wide for him as he got on all fours. Having you barking commands at him to do it properly, rewarding him with endless praise once you deemed it good enough.
Your thighs parted just a bit more, head tilting to the side as you gave him a smirk. As if you knew exactly where his thoughts were and wanted him to keep going. And, wow, were you two really just eye-fucking each other in the library?
“Want some coffee?” he asked, trying to distract himself. Practically flinching, pulling himself back from the table. “I was gonna head to Starbucks afterwards.”
The sexual tension broke at the question and he watched as you fiddled with your pen. But you didn’t flounder like he did. He wondered if you ever could. 
“Yeah, I’d love to. I have to finish something up but—”
“Oh, I’ll go by myself,” he offered.
“You sure?” you asked, clearly surprised.
“Yeah, no biggie,” he assured you, standing up.
Expression turning a bit sheepish, you said, “I will warn you… My order is complicated.”
He shrugged. “Hit me.”
And the order wasn’t complicated, per se. Eddie just wanted to know how the hell had you come up with a “dirty iced chai with oat milk and two pumps of cinnamon dolce”. Regardless, Eddie tucked that into his Notes app for later. If there was a later.
After grabbing himself a large black coffee and the concoction you'd asked for, he made his way back over to you. Rounding the corner, he noticed the way you moved back and forth between a book and your laptop, sighing and mumbling something to yourself. But as if you could sense him, you turned and watched him approach, a smile appearing on your lips.
“Oh, a Venti, huh?” you teased, making grabbing motions at him anyways.
He shrugged, sitting back down. “You deserve it.”
“You know what? You’re right.” You took it from his hand, taking a long sip. “I hate Starbucks coffee,” you said, licking your lips. “It’s awful. But this is the best thing on the menu, so thank you.”
“Yeah, of course.” Eddie hoped you couldn’t see him blush. "I hate it, too. It's just the only thing we got." 
“God, I know. Also, I can Venmo you or—"
“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, waving you away. 
“Okay,” you conceded, not bothering to argue further. Just took another sip and sat back. Glanced out the window before back at him. “Wanna go on that date today?”
“Today?” he asked, nearly gobsmacked.
Nervousness ran along his limbs, not fully prepared to be with you. Alone. Just the two of you. It’d taken him hours to go to bed after dropping you off the other night. Any time he thought he was done masturbating, it just came with another round. Like a goddamn creep.
“Why not?”
“Aren’t you doing research?” he asked, feeling his face grow hot.
And if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.
“Oh my god, I would rather die than look at this shit any longer. I’ve been here since eight.” You paused before throwing a hand over your face. “Unless you’re busy. Sorry I didn’t ask first.”
“No, no. I’m free,” he lied, deciding at that moment to skip his class. He’d catch up on Algebra with his tutor—it’s not like he paid attention anyways. That damn tutor was the only reason he understood a fraction of it. Pun absolutely intended. 
And he swore you nearly jumped up, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on before packing up your backpack, the weight of it starting to look daunting. Book after book, plus your laptop and pencil case and…
Without thought, Eddie grabbed it for you, slinging it over his shoulder. Fuck, it was heavy. “Here, I got it.”
You stared up at him, clearly shocked. “Oh, you sure?”
But Eddie gave you a smile and gestured towards the window with his head. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive.”
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By all accounts, Eddie was actually…sweet. It was nearly sickening how sweet he could be, carrying your backpack for you and opening the car door (despite it being a stalker van). Asking what music you liked to listen to—everything, was the answer. And you didn’t just like every genre, you loved it— Fiddling with the air conditioning and telling you to change it if you get too hot or too cold. Asking if his music was too loud, asking how you were doing now, away from your books.
You were starting to find him ridiculously intriguing, unsure how to take his kindness. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means. You just…weren’t used to a man being so considerate of your feelings. 
It wasn’t like you didn’t think you deserved it—that was obvious every time a man got a little too close for comfort and you had to humiliate them. 
But there was just something that felt new about Eddie. When he’d approached you at the party, you sized him up like every other guy shooting their shot. But he caught your eye immediately when he stumbled over his words. And when a jolt seized your veins at that first touch on his arm, you knew you were hooked. 
You’d gone to bed that night with a smile on your face, softly licking along your lips to savor the lingering taste of Eddie’s mouth. It was tinged with beer, something you used to hate. Something you now loved, thoughts echoing one word:
New.
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Eddie helped you out of the car once he’d parked, even insisting that you let him get it for you. It made you feel quite warm in the face, surprised by his assertion. Made you feel like a lady, something you hadn’t ever felt at the hands of a man.
As you moved through the museum, you were quiet, whispering now and then about certain art styles and their importance during their corresponding time periods. And you were glad that Eddie wasn’t a douchebag about noise level inside a museum.
He never interrupted, never poked fun at your intelligence. He’d even asked more questions, all hushed and contained, some even you didn’t know the answer to. Pocketing them for later to ask your professors. 
But Eddie rarely gave up any information about himself, leaving you to tap his foot with yours and ask him questions. Every time, his face got hot and he murmured responses with a shrug, as if he didn’t think it was anything special. 
How was it not? He was still undecided, having dreams of working on video games and helping direct the narratives in new and innovative ways to engage with the player more. You didn’t know much about video games, but you still listened. Still gave him the attention he’d given you. It wasn’t even hard—he was so animated once he got into something he was passionate about. It was endearing, actually.
You ended up sitting down on one of the benches together, staring at an abstract painting by an artist you’d never heard of. 
“Do you like abstract?” you asked him, whispering despite the empty room.
Eddie shrugged, eyes trained on the swirling colors. “I think so? I mean, it’s cool to look at. I just don’t really know what I’m looking for. Or what I’m looking at, for that matter.”
That brought a smile to your face. His statement wasn’t judgmental or dismissive. It was…pensive. Contemplative. 
“I think of it like music,” you said. “The different colors and movements are like different instruments. They’re all separate but they come together to make something magical.”
For emphasis, you leaned in closer to him, your face and shoulder fully pressed against him. Raised your arm to point at the sharp flicks of red hurling towards the top right of the canvas. You could’ve sworn you heard Eddie suck in a breath, having to suppress a smirk at the effect you had over him. 
“That’s like a trumpet, bright and loud. Furious in nature but soaring off the page.” Then you pointed toward the royal blue splatters, more round than some of the other scattered pigments. “And this is like, oh, I don’t know. I guess, a trombone. Low and sultry. Rounded. Keeping everything together.”
Eddie turned his head, your noses nearly touching. You couldn’t help the shiver running down your neck at the tickling sensation you got from his hair. A smile you hadn’t seen before enveloped his face as you made eye contact.
“So, you’re saying it’s like jazz.”
A breathy laugh left your lips, finding yourself intimidated by his pointed gaze. By the way you could study the rich brown in his eyes, all bright and energized despite his calm demeanor. The stubble rising from his pores, all scratchy and wicked. 
“Well, uh,” you murmured, surprised by your inability to form words. “It doesn’t have to be, but, um, I guess this one made me think of jazz. The way it kinda…” your voice trailed off as he seemingly leaned in further, his scent like smoke fogging your senses. “It’s not so rigid. It’s improv. It’s, um…”
“Varied?” he offered, his smile growing. “Unique?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
Eddie let out a hum. “I think I get it now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s beautiful.”
For once, you had to look away, back at the painting to try and control your breathing. There were flashes of things you wanted to do, both tender and wildly too inappropriate for the setting. Things you wanted beyond physicality, beyond the limits you’d always set for yourself.
And as if he could hear the pounding of your heart, his fingertips touched yours. Slowly weaved his fingers through the spaces left open. Took a piece of your heart with him.
Eddie might not be exactly forward with his actions, but he knew what he wanted. All you could do was squeeze his hand and hope that one day you’d get to see him in full bloom. 
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“Why do you do that thing?” you asked.
Eddie glanced over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. The other fiddled with a hole in his pants, needing something to grasp onto. His heart rate just started to slow down, giving him a chance to breathe. 
There was just something about you that drove him mad.
“What thing?”
“Act like you’re not interesting.”
Sheepishly, Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause you’re way more interesting than me.”
“Bullshit,” you said sternly, a scoff leaving your lips.
“What!” he exclaimed, looking over at you again. “It’s true.”
You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “You highly underestimate yourself.”
Eddie snorted. “I’m a stereotype.”
“Bullshit,” you repeated, starting to sound genuinely frustrated. “Who the hell told you that?”
He didn’t know where to start. 
Being a loser wasn’t a big deal for him in high school. Grew up with his father’s reputation preceding him. Got through it the best he could with some awesome friends along the way. Finally graduated high school and raised his GPA enough to come here. It was simple. In his mind, he was simple.
But spending the latter half of summer, the one he dared never to speak of, without his friends and then coming here without anyone else… Well, he struggled to find anyone willing to be his friend. He tried. Really, he did. But it never came to fruition.
And what was more embarrassing than joining a D&D club before being told he didn’t belong within the first hour? Him, the DM of Hawkins, hell, Indiana, being told he didn’t belong. That he didn’t play right. That he just didn’t fit.
He spent so much time alone. It was starting to make him miss Hawkins, the nostalgia starting to kick in. Hawkins, the place he loathed. The place he wanted nothing to do with. 
He was a nineteen-year-old Freshman with no friends and an undecided future.  
His silence must’ve lasted longer than he thought because you pointed at the nearly empty Walmart parking lot and asked, “Actually, would you pull in for a sec?”
“Yeah, of course,” he responded, heading towards the very back row, far from any remaining cars. Giving the two of you privacy just in case you started to yell at him for being a loser or something. He didn’t know. You were just so unpredictable.
But once he parked, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing his chin. Squished the bottom of his cheeks in one hand as you pulled his face closer to yours. He must’ve stopped breathing, hands slipping from the steering wheel.
“You better start listening to me, Eddie,” you breathed, all low and sensual, moving your lips to barely graze his bottom lip. “I really don’t like you talking about yourself like that.”
Eddie could feel sweat collecting beneath his bangs as you continued your torture, raking your fingernails down his throat before wrapping your hand around it. He gasped, earning a small smile out of you.
“I don’t waste my time with boring people, as conceited as that sounds,” you continued, the left corner of your mouth lifting. Eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, eyelashes fluttering with each micromovement. “But I never claimed to be the nicest person, did I?” Eddie still wouldn’t speak. He didn’t know if he could without moaning. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met. And the nicest, which is probably more than I deserve. You’ve seen the way I treat other men.”
“They deserved it,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch when your grip tightened. “Every one of them.”
“Yeah, they did,” you replied, raising the pitch of your voice. Like you were taunting him. “But you’re different, aren’t you?”
“I-I am?”
“You’re sweet,” you breathed, giving slow kisses to his cheeks. Giggling when you noticed the blood rushing into them so rapidly. “And you’re a real nice guy, you know that?”
“I, uh, I try to be,” he stumbled as you moved your lips past his jaw and against his ear. Went limp at the feeling of you biting the lobe, fanning your breath over it.
“You do such an excellent job,” you whispered. “So nice and kind and funny. You really get me going, Eddie. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by you.”
When you pulled back to face him, you chuckled. He couldn’t blame you. His eyes must’ve been popping out of his head, mouth agape at your pretty words. What was even more fucked up was how genuine you sounded, like you weren’t just saying these things to say them. You meant it.
“I thought about you a lot this weekend,” you said breathily, removing your hand from his neck to start coiling his hair around your finger.
“Me?”
“You,” you said with a nod.
He licked his lips. “W-what about me?”
“About how interesting you are. And not to get too vulgar,” you said with a giggle, all teasing and devilish. “But I couldn’t help but think about taking your cock down my throat.” Another giggle as you tapped your fingers along his collarbone. “Thought about what it looks like, if it’s half as pretty as you.”
Eddie couldn’t stop the way his cock strained against his jeans, the neverending praise overwhelming him. “T-thank you,” he responded, unable to suppress the whine that he’d tried to contain when your other hand began palming him over his jeans. 
“You, um,” he tried to continue, taking a deep breath through his nose to keep his composure. “I-if you want, you can. Anytime. Any time.” 
“It’d be so easy like this, you know,” you nearly purred. “To ride you, to leave you a blubbering mess and thanking me for taking care of you. I think you’d really, really like that.”
“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned, fingers now reaching out to white-knuckle the steering wheel. 
“Am I wrong?”
A tiny scoff left his lips as you nearly massaged his cock, knowing that if you didn’t stop soon, he was going to burst. “You already know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear it, Eddie.” You nipped his neck, causing him to jump a little. But you wouldn’t stop, whispering filthy words as you continued to mark him. “I want to hear you tell me how good it would feel for me to suck you dry.” He continued to nod, each word sending him further into the deep end. “Before getting you hard again, just ‘cause I can, and getting on top so I can milk you with my pussy.” He moaned at your vulgarity. “Which is dripping, by the way.”
Without any warning, Eddie was cumming, an explosive rush that had him twitching and jerking. Panting and dry mouthed. You didn’t remove your hand, merely chuckling and rubbing him through his jeans until he was able to breathe normally again.
Before Eddie could get the chance to apologize for his behavior, you were pulling him in with an agonizingly slow kiss, your fingers damp from the cum seeping through his jeans. 
You tugged at his lower lip with your teeth before letting out a hum. Gazed up into his puppy dog eyes and said, “Good boy.”
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After a few moments of Eddie being able to think clearly again, you found your eyes wandering around his console before settling on a pack of cigarettes. 
“You smoke?” you asked, plucking them from the cupholder and shaking the box in front of his face.
He nodded, seemingly quiet despite what transpired. “Want one?”
“Absolutely,” you responded, quick to take two out and hand one over. Watched him roll the windows down. Even went so far as to light both cigarettes for you like a gentleman. 
You knew he was still coming down from that high. It wasn’t like you could judge when the wetness collecting between your thighs was probably staining the carseat. It took everything in you not to beg him to take you right then and there. But you were a lady (of sorts) and as a lady, you were content with saving yourself for another day.
Besides, it was nice to see him so calm now. Like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment. It was still a moment.
“Post-nut clarity cigarette,” you joked, taking a slow drag and glancing out at the afternoon sun. 
“Was that…not embarrassing?”
That was when you realized what was happening.
“Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you said truthfully. 
“I’m sure it’s totally hot,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Ah, yes. You supposed it was embarrassing for a guy to have creamed his pants without so much as a kiss. But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew it would be different once you were alone, edging him until he was begging you for more. Nothing would make you happier.
You ignored him. “You know, if you want us to go any further, you’re gonna have to earn it,” you said plainly, checking over your nails to make sure the paint hadn’t chipped too bad.  
“How?”
“Once you learn to be nice to yourself.” You shrugged before glancing back over at his wide-eyed expression. “I know there’s something more to you than what you think of yourself. I saw it at the party and I’m seeing it now. You just have to see that, Eddie. That’s really all there is to it.”
Eddie’s lips seemed to form a pout before he took a few hearty puffs, the smoke billowing around you. Looked around. Looked down at his lap. Looked back up at you. Mumbled, “So I can’t, like, go down on you right now?”
A laugh surged out of you so quickly that you started coughing. You waved him away when his concern sounded, ending up laughing harder before you could contain yourself.
“As much as I’d love to give you the privilege of eating me out right now, I think it’s best to wait until you’ve shown some improvement.”
“So there’s a chance?” he asked. 
You leaned back in towards his face, opening his mouth with your thumb. Taking another drag, you put your lips to his and blew the smoke into his mouth. Felt him breathe it in before letting it out through his nose. 
You smirked. “If you’re desperate for a piece of me, you could always lap up what I left behind on your car seat.”
He groaned, taking a deep breath while rolling his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking menace.”
“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
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as per usual, thanks to @strangergraphics for letting me use her dividers and looking over my work hehehe
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slytherinshua · 3 days
Text
HOLD ME CLOSE
genre. comfort. warnings. reader had a really bad day (unspecified reason). pairing. best friend!anton x fem!reader. wc. 417. request. no. a/n. kinda wrote this randomly like 2 nights ago i think?? it's rly short and im not sure if it's any good but it's here anyway lol
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“Can I hug you?”
You had just gotten back home from possibly the worst night of your entire life, and seeing your roommate in the kitchen in his pyjamas and hoodie pulled over his head made your heart clench in your chest. The question slipped out before you had time to think about what you were about to say to your best friend who you’d never had any amount of prolonged skinship with in your entire 4 years of knowing him (though not for a lack of wanting to).
Anton was silent for a second, slightly shocked by your question, and still holding a spoon in his hand from his long empty bowl of cereal. His brain couldn’t exactly process your question before his eyes flitted to your face and he was nodding quickly. He probably would’ve interrogated you or even teased you about it given how unusual it was, but you looked like you desperately needed to be held tightly, and all Anton cared about suddenly was making sure you were okay. 
You were glad he didn’t say anything, because you probably would’ve burst into tears if he had. You weren’t ready to talk about why you felt so awful— all you craved for was silent comfort. Relief flooded through you as soon as Anton wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you close to his chest.
You closed your eyes and hugged him back, focusing on evening your breath to his in order to calm down. The right side of your face rested over his heart, and you could hear it beating steadily, maybe a tiny bit faster than usual, but you didn’t focus on it. 
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. It felt so comfortable, so right, in his arms that time seemed to slow. It felt like even breathing too loudly would completely break the moment, so Anton worked extremely hard to keep his breath soft.
He wasn’t sure what or who had made your night turn sour, but he was determined to be there to make it better; not just now, but in the future as well. He hadn’t realized it before, but as he held you close in his arms, noticing how perfectly you fit in them, as if you were made for it, he realized you had been the only one in his heart for some time. And he hoped you would be the last person he held, and the last to fill every corner of his heart.
↳ riize taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,,
@blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,,
@seunghancore,, @planetkiimchi
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danikamariewrites · 14 hours
Text
Babying Azriel Headcanon
Azriel x reader
A/n: just some hc about showing Az some love. I’ve missed writing just for Azzy so enjoy this
Warnings: none
In public and in front of the IC Azriel is very affectionate with you
He does not shy away from PDA
But behind closed doors this male CLINGS to you
Like he is so in love with you it’s not even funny and you make sure Az knows he is loved
You basically pavloved him into needing your touch
You always throw our self at him when he comes him, jumping into his arms and telling him how happy you are to have him home and in your arms
He doesn’t move from the entry way unless he sees you running at him
Az does understand that you won’t always be home when he gets there and he does come home late some nights
He does get sad when you can’t hug him first thing though
Whenever he frowns it breaks your heart. You always have to fix that immediately
Az came home from Windhaven with his brothers one evening, just in time for dinner. Nyx had ran up to his dad and uncle with you trailing not far behind. You waited until the little boy greeted them for you to throw yourself at Az. He looked so worn down you considered not throwing yourself into his arms. Once Az saw you his face lit up! He stood ready, arms open and knees bent a little, ready to pick you up and hold you tight to his chest.
You launch yourself at him, jumping and wrapping your arms and legs around Azriel. “Azzy! I missed you!” You place kisses all over his face. He doesn’t care that Cassian and Rhys are watching. Azriel basks in your love and attention. Once you’re done he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your calming scent. Cass and Rhys’s jaws drop as you talk to him in a babying voice that you use when you’re alone. You just can’t help it!
Kisses kisses kisses all of the kisses for Az always!
Frowning? Kisses all over his face until he’s giddy
Before bed kisses or he cannot sleep
Sometimes you’ll jokingly forget, just rolling over and saying goodnight sweetly. “AH” Az yells, “where is my goodnight kiss little miss?” You giggle, “Huh? What are you talking about?” Az pulls you on top of him and he kisses you hard, never letting up until you hold him back
Morning kisses and goodbye kisses before he leaves for training/work. “Bye Azzy, I love you.” You say pecking his lips quickly. Az isn’t fully satisfied with your little peck, pulling you by your waist flush to his front he kisses you deeply
You’re the own who’s supposed to flustering him! When he lets go your cheeks are pink and you’re out of breath, waving goodbye as he sends you a wink while leaving
Packing him lunch if he’s out all day even if it’s just at the house of wind
You add a note with his food telling him how much you love him
Az swears his teeth are going to fall out if you keep baking him treats. But he would be so sad if you ever stopped baking or packing him lunches with little notes he would cry his eyes out
You make sure all of his weapons are clean and organized
I know for a fact Azriel likes things clean and organized and if he had a label maker he would use the shit out of it
When he comes home from long missions you don’t let him lift a finger! That is unacceptable, he’s just spent days Mother knows where, in an uncomfortable spot and is disgusting
You always have a bath ready for him along with a towel that you warmed by the fire
You wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. He washes himself though, he doesn’t want you doing all of the work
Most nights you insist on him laying on top of you because you like holding him close and running your fingers through his silky hair
When he’s sick Azriel really plays it up just to get more attention from you
You make him soup and tea, you even spoon feed him while he lays in bed
“I think I’m warm will you feel my forehead?” Az knows full well he’s burning up from his small fever he just wants to feel your cool hand on his skin. You make sure to touch his forehead and cup his cheeks
You tuck him in making sure he’s all warm and snuggly
When he’s feeling better he still acts sick for an extra day because he isn’t ready to leave the comfort of your care just yet
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Text
Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)
Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.
[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]
Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)
Word Count: 1650
Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)
Masterlist
There was something wrong with your soulmate.
Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.
“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.
“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”
“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”
“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”
“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”
“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”
Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”
“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”
“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”
“Since we were eight?”
“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”
You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”
“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”
She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.
“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.
“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”
“Real romantic, dude.”
“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”
“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”
“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”
“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”
“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”
“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”
“Ten-thirty-ish?”
“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”
“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”
“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”
“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”
“I’m not buying you lunch.”
“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.
Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”
“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”
“Always. Mine or yours?”
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You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.
So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.
“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”
You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”
She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”
“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”
“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”
You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”
“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”
You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  
She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”
“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”
“Your soulmate is wounded.”
“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”
She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”
“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”
“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”
“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”
You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”
Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”
“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”
“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”
“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”
“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”
“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”
Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”
You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”
“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”
“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”
Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”
“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”
“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”
“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”
“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”
You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”
“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”
“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”
“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.
You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”
“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.
“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”
“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”
“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”
You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.
(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.04.24)
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tiyoin · 3 days
Text
pt.4 | 📍pt.5
rewrote, edited and proofread chapter five cause I thought it was horseshit and you guys deserved more from me. 🫶
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numb.
you tried to feel numb.
doing everything in your power to push down any kind of emotion that was ready to slip through your mask.
look ahead, stand tall, put one foot in front of the other so no one would know you were wearing a confidence coat that was 2 sizes too small.
don't breathe too loud they'll hear you.
don't step too loud they'll think about your weight.
don't blink too much they'll think you're fluttering your lashes at them.
don't tuck your chin in they'll think you're gross.
gross for what exactly? everything.
don't mess up the stepping pattern or else you'll look like a bumbling idiot as you try to get back on the rhythm.
don't clench your fists they'll think you're mad and unapproachable.
don't smile because you're not in front of a mirror where you can control how much you want to give away.
don't think too hard or else you'll become enraptured with your daydreams and you won't be able to take part in reality.
don't do anything with your lips or else some air will come in and create a sound that sounds similar to a fart. then they'll think you're extra gross.
all these rules you had to follow to 'be normal,' weren't an actual set of rules, but a lifestyle. you wouldn't get collared if you didn't do one of the rules, you wouldn't get yelled at or reprimanded.
you were okay. to your knowledge that is.
on the outside, you probably looked like you had a stick up your ass. always in a rush to get to where you needed to go. like one of those rolling backpack kids back in your world. whenever they would pass they'd take casualties with them. rolling over toes, pencils, teachers- there was nothing in their way they couldn't bulldoze through.
you were just missing the wheels and will of iron it took to be seen with such a… what’s the right word- atrocity, in public, let alone an all-boys school.
underneath the habits and self-induced numbness, past all the anxiety and fear there was a tickle. not an actual tickle, but a sudden feeling you couldn't identify. it wasn't rage or frustration. you weren't sad or envious... you think- it was something gentler than that.
something softer yet just as negative was infesting your heart and mind like a slow-acting poison. poisoning your thought process, your habits, your attitude, and your livelihood.
though the breeze and sunshine walking to class supplied your flesh with warm- there was a chill over your heart. the beams of warmth too short to reach into the many cracks and holes that were created. sometimes you thought there was a bug. a big, juicy parasitic bug that would suck away your hopes and feast on your memories. It had a sweet tooth that was for certain, only targeting happy memories as it kept you with the bad ones.
did you ever have happy memories?
there was nothing you could do about the pestering leech. it wouldn't go away with Kalim's warmth and silver's calm. two sides of the same coin.
but no matter how many times you flipped: heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails would never work.
yes, you would smile, you would laugh- put on a poor show to convince yourself and others that there was nothing wrong. Everything was okay deep down and inside your twisted little mind. 
sometimes, you weren't sure who exactly you were performing for. 
"why am I scared to laugh" you remembered asking yourself one night, putting down your jester's hat for the evening. 
looking in the dusty mirror, your eyes carefully roamed your face, ticking off imperfections as you scanned every feature, scrutinizing every fold, and every slight bump on your skin. saving the most obvious imperfection for last, you finally acknowledged the brewing red horn ready to grow on the side of your forehead.
you knew it was a normal thing that teenagers of all ages experienced. but you felt especially helpless now, with the lack of beauty supplies and makeup. but with a quick brush of your hair, the brewing red horn disappeared behind some tresses of hair.
"I look like a demon"
...
"though if it was on my nose, i'd look like rudolph"
there was no punchline. yet the observation- not even an original comparison, made you laugh. 
A tiny huff puffed from your chest. though the more you imagined yourself with deer ears and a bright lobster red nose, you could feel your thoracic region start to shake. trying to push the sixth sense of judgment the walls were giving you, you forced yourself to laugh. holding onto this artificial laugh as long as you could. you hadn't laughed in a while. hadn't smiled in a minute. you'd barely look at yourself in the mirror most days.
gripping onto the vanity you watched your eyes crinkle and smile stretch. tripping and stumbling over scattered objects in your room you were still clenching your stomach nonetheless.
you felt like a tumbling tornado. clumsily tripping over everything with no set destination or concern for the things in your path. a shoe got kicked up. a pen you remembered liking got stepped and rolled on. a book you read a few nights ago kicked to the door as you set your eyes on your bed. with a few more violent acts towards inanimate objects, you carried your shaking body to bed.
this was it. you were going insane, weren't you?
all you needed was a canvas and paints and you'd truly become insane.
flopping down unceremoniously you let it linger for a second. sighing in contentment as you stared up at the ceiling.
you loved laughing, it was fun! but you were afraid to laugh, to live. remembering Kalim's quote of 'Everything is fun when you make it fun,' you wanted to scoff at his naivety. but Kalim was right.
if you made things miserable for yourself that's how they'll be.
directing your mind back to your head, you blinked owlishly.
oh. you were so caught up in the daydream you forgot you were in the hallways.
peeking through bumping shoulders, you tried looking towards the wall to check the room number.
"shit"
making a giant u-turn with as many 'excuse me's' and 'pardon me's,' you rerouted yourself back to your class. never having walked this way to class you were a bit hesitant. what if you walked by it again? what if someone is watching you and making fun of you for being a daft idiot?
breathe.
but what if you're late for class? crewel will have your hide- skin? doesn't matter what it is cause it'll be his. what if they all laugh when we're late-
we're not late yet it's only-
but when we get to class we'll be late!
perking up when you noticed the assigned numbers to your class, you weaved through the chattering sardines and beelined it to class.
no bell. no expectant crewel. no eyes besides from the easy-to-ignore front row. perfect.
the sigh you were holding in finally set itself free as you adjusted the grip of your books, and you strolled down the isles.
don't walk too fast they'll think you're strange.
but also don't walk too slow so they don't think you're lazy.
head down absent-mindedly adjusting your books, you followed your hand's cue and put your attention on a fixed thing. aka: your books.
but to your relief, you soon found your seat. with a huff, you unloaded the cargo pulled out some loose-leaf paper, and started writing.
writing what? not even you knew. but it made you look busy and that was important.
you didn't lay around in bed all day. you didn't continuously scroll through your phone to distract yourself. you didn't cry at night looking at everyone's socials, wishing it was you having fun. envy bubbling like a nasty tar in your bloodstream as you scorned everyone for having fun when you're miserbale-
"y/n!'
"oow"
sliding in next to you was silver. hair disheveled and tie ever so crooked, though he still looked really good-
pervert a voice whispered. tensing, you looked around and saw no one paying attention to your little corner.
"I tried calling you in the hallway." his boyish smile eased a beat in your rhythmic heart, only for it to take 2 more beats.
"y-you did?" you gulped.
silver nodded as he organized his books. "Yeah, but it's so chaotic and loud I'm guessing you didn't hear me" you nodded in agreement, tongue slipping over itself as you tried conjuring up an excuse.
"I- uh I'm really sorry I didn't hear you. I didn't even know you were there! I was kinda worried about not being elbowed to death." you didn't know why you were chuckling at the end but it felt scene-appropriate. you weren't sure if you believed what you told silver despite it being the truth.
was he going to refute it? was he going to give you a once over and mentally think 'how dare they ignore me' because all the diasomnia students you'd interact with had that very haughty, entitled personality?
 but to your slight dissatisfaction, silver only nodded in understanding.
"I'm real-"
"There's no-"
you both started at the same time, sharing a shy smile at the pause.
"you can go ahead" he nodded. Waving your hands, you disagreed. "you were talking first, I'm sorry, go ahead"
even though you gave the green light, silver still heisted to go. giving the air another few seconds before he started talking.
"there is no need to ask for forgiveness. I understand if you couldn't hear me, I'm not the most vocal after all. if only sebek were here" he mulled the last part. wincing at the name, you wanted to pinch yourself for slipping up. damnit you showed that you didn't like a person he was friends with- he'll hate you now. you're screwed, you screwed yourself. don't you understand that he's probably planning on running to sebek as soon as you leave? then everyone in diasomnia is going to hate you-
you nodded, tiny little yellow sponges in white shirts and red ties ran around your brain as a fire roared throughout- wherever they were inside your head.
you tried to push the flood of incoming thoughts into a box, a big red crate with a crab lock to be exact. you were feeling antsy, looking for anything to focus on besides the silver-haired upperclassman in front of you. 
sometimes you wish you were a computer. unable to feel and to only run on logic. it seems easier that way.
a thought bubble popped into your brain like an internet pop-up ad. 
did they even have computers in twisted wonderland? duh of course they do, they have phones after all.
the thought of twisted wonderland's technology started to swarm and hijack your train of thought. effectively taking out the conductor and changing its course.
did they also have an Industrial Revolution like the United States had? what was the start of it? which kingdom had it first? was there something to set off the alleged revolution? How is it the same and how is it different from your world's?
did magic have allay in it? of course, it did. but how did magic make it different than-
"y/n"
snapping your head at the familiar voice. you looked to silver. only able to take in physical information as the new conductor saw a hole in the tracks, pulling the breaks almost immediately.
"you okay there?"
slowly you nodded, as a few members of the hijacking team jumped out of the train- some ideas and questions with it.
"yeah.. sorry about that, kinda got lost in my train of thought there"
nodding with understanding, silver started talking about how he would sometimes start nodding off when he was talking to someone. half paying attention, half trying to save the train- your brain was split in half as you took in all internal and external information.
until you heard the magic words everyone loves to hear: "what were you thinking ab-"
"The Industrial Revolution"
"... pardon?"
anddd you failed, the train fell into the deep deep gorge that the tracks would normally allow the said train to glide over... but alas! they were gone! blown to smithereens as it guided the train into the deep cavern. a big explosion followed soon after. 
"dont worry about it" you brushed him off. saved by the bell as Crewel stood up, riding crop in hand yelling out orders like a drill sergeant.
silver scooted closer. you scooted back, the original distance between you two doubling. you were focused on writing your name, date etc & etc, on another loose-leaf paper.
the dreamy-eyed second-year made some noises before he knew what he was going to say. he started softly "are you okay"? but then grew slightly louder as unease set in "from... last class? I mean I know yuu told me it was a touchy subject but... i just wanted to check in"
your pencil screeched to a halt as the words 'yuu told me-' chanted in your head. it was the only thing you could focus on because what did he mean 'yuu said-'. "what did yuu say." you spoke, voice stable for the first time that morning.
silver's tongue tied itself as he fixed his hair a bit. "well..." he straightened up slightly, "after you stormed... no, escape is a better word. after you escaped the classroom yuu followed before i could. but crewel ended up stopping me before i could even move. and i asked yuu what happened the next time i saw them and asked how you were doing.. to sum it up: they told me you get nervous around new people soo"
dread set over you like a fast-approaching shadow.
oh no. he thinks you're a weird socially inept loser doesn't he? he thinks you're some kind of loser that doesn't go out weekends, weekdays, any day for all that matter. he probably makes fun of you with sebek. right?
"ah well," you cleared your throat. a lie already on the tip of your tongue "I mean it's like- a yes and no kinda thing. I didn't have a lot of guy friends when I was younger so being thrust" you thrust your hands in emphasis "into an al guys school has been quite the adjustment."
quickly, your mind conjured up a painting of a small house in a meadow filled with wildflowers. it was the only thing you could see for miles. it was a nice house with a straw roof, a smoking brick chimney, and a little garden outback. the only problem with the house is that you blew it up.
 with nuclear missiles. 
and the intensity of the blast was so strong that it created a small crater in the earth, no traces of the house were left as it's entire existence was reduced to ash and rubble all because of you.
the urge to bash your head into the nearest wall like intruding hornets slipping through a crack in an attic to terrorize a small family. there goes your social life right?? what soil life? you killed it before you could even nurture it!
your mouth and mind were running on autopilot while your conscience went blank.
your mouth was a fountain that spewed water everywhere. trying to get yourself out of the hole you dug yourself- crater, more specifically.
"but uhhh yeah, no you're good! you're different and I'm quite glad I got partnered with you since you're not as..."
"boisterous?" silver quipped.
you nodded. silver chuckled, leaning further away from you. "yeah me too. if I got paired with one of your friends only the sevens know how much damage that'll do to my physical and mental well-being"
you both discreetly looked over at the rest of the class watching as all pairs seemed to be in some kind of chaos. whether it's floyd being impulsive, grim trying to add the wrong chemical into a potion. (you didn't even need to know what they were making to know that whatever he's trying to sneak in- doesn't belong there.)
and you were thanking whatever god the people of twisted wonderland worshipped that you weren't paired with one of the adeuce combo. ace would try to take control of the project, pretending he knew what he was doing while simultaneously giving you backhanded compliments on your intelligence. only to ruin the entire project and somehow find a way to blame you for it. 
meanwhile, deuce and you would be two peas in a squished pod: not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and ultimately winging it as you tried to match your hot barbie pink potion to crewel's muted blush potion. knowing the both of you, it would end up navy blue and when crewel went to fix it he would add a pinch of fleabane- a literal pinch, and it'd be fixed. embarrassing the both of you for all eternity.
"I wonder which group is gonna blow up the lab first mused quick to shut your lips, you were quick to wish for a sewing kit to forcefully shut you up.
but a small voice whispered 'it's better to take risks than stay comfortable.'
and silver seemed... nice.
silver looked out at the crowd for a moment longer, turning to you he started slowly, "while the yuu, grim, and ace trio seem to be the most obvious choice...." he thought carefully, "epel and deuce seem to be at a loss of what to do and are about 6 shade off. which surprised me since epel is in pomfiore"
"he's actually sh- really-" you started again, taking a moment to think over what you were going to say "I heard that epel's not that great at potions despite being under vil's careful watch...." silver's eyes widened, replying with a soft 'really?' as he looked back to the groups with newfound interest.
you to yourself "never judge a book by its cover" you shrugged, immediately turning to your work. anxiously, you waited for a response. 
although circumstances are vastly different- is this how people felt when in the talking stage? if so it was a dreadful experience. 
before your pessimistic thoughts could even start, silver responded with a chuckle, enviably agreeing with your statement. you could almost sweat with relief as an invisible weight got lifted from your shoulders.
silver seems nice...
a new voice, meek and unsteady although louder than the usual pessestimic ones in control. and for once, you allowed yourself to feel the slight comfortable tingle it gave you.
the hope and drive to that you haven't felt or experienced in a while.
you wished to get closer to him.
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taglist : @abell2029cluster @a1-ic3 @ars-tral @xingyunny @creamsweets @skei2p @dn4su @jjsmeowthie @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @nefe-kav @d3sperate-enuf @y2unagiz @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @mel-star636 @7yu @lucky-whispers
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onlyjaes · 7 hours
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hands (p.sh)
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pairing. stepdad!sunghoon x fem!reader
— 𖦹 warnings. taboo relationship (stepcest), pwp, choking, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation, hair pulling, multiple orgasms
authors note. don't like it, don't read
(18+) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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you're thinking about hands.
long, slim fingers and knuckles that are a little prominent, a little pinker than the pale skin it is against. rough but careful ministrations, cradling the back of your head even as they yank your hair, pulling your head around so your gaze meets his.
hands, hands, hands... thumb brushing your lower lip before pushing past to rest on your tongue. hands on your neck, just enough pressure to have you seeing stars. or maybe no pressure at all. maybe they sit loose around the base of your throat like a collar to remind you of your place. they dip just below the neckline and you hope they’ll go further. 
hands that press forward, hands running along your body, along every tender place—neck, waist, thigh. hands that still at the slightest response from you, pausing in a way that you can feel the smugness through his fingertips. 
he loves it when you beg, he demands it of you; not with his words, but with fingers curled just right, with your legs draped over his and his breath hot on your neck. the only thing he loves more than hearing you beg is knowing you’re too far gone to do so, too fucked out to form words. he can pinpoint the moment it happens, too... feels it in the skip of your pulse, the way you clench around him. he loves making you look at him with a hand on your jaw and another between your legs, watching as you struggle to pull your eyes back into focus. "c’mon, baby, look at me, you can do it, yes, good, so good for me..." you want to pull him closer after that. sloppy open-mouth kisses, his tongue sucking yours as you cry out and ankles locked around his waist and hands clutching at his shoulders desperately, and...
“class dismissed for today! remember to turn in your papers by..."
class is over already? but you could have sworn you’d just opened up your laptop and logged on but your professor seems very clearly to be wrapping things up. a quick glance at the clock confirms that yep, you’ve been checked out for the last half hour of the lecture.
you need to spend more time focusing on your schoolwork, and less time lusting over your stupid hot stepdad.
-
sunghoon isn’t an idiot. he knows hooking up with his own stepdaughter is a bad idea. it is probably the worst idea he's had. he knows his wife would kill him.
but you’re making it incredibly hard for him to remember that.
you, prancing around the apartment in ankle socks and tiny little shorts paired with oversized sweaters that hang off your shoulder and make it look as though you aren’t wearing any shorts at all. you and all your casual touches... a kiss on the cheek when you thank him for doing some chore for you, a head resting on his shoulder when you sit next to each other on the couch, a hand on his arm as you pass him in the hall. you, sweet-voiced and soft-eyed and blushing at everything he says... dirty or otherwise. 
you, buying a vibrator. 
he’s always been curious about your sex life yeah, but you haven’t given him much to work with. you weren’t really in the habit of bringing anyone home. there was that one asshole named jungwon or whatever you’d been dating long-term when sunghoon first married your mom, but you always slept over at his place. sunghoon met him a few times and seen the way he treated you. it didn’t take him much more than five minutes of knowing the guy to be pretty sure there were zero orgasms happening. 
and now… you broke up with jungwon. now you spend your nights in your room. now you share a wall with... your mom and stepdad.
and now you own a vibrator.
he wonders if he’ll be able to hear you. he's been living here almost for a year. surely you must have gotten off in that time. he can just picture you biting down on your lip, brows slightly knit as you shake and tense and arch off the mattress.
he’s always liked his partners vocal but for some reason the thought of you in his bed trying so desperately to stay quiet just makes him want to rise to the challenge. already you make the prettiest noises whenever you’re startled or excited or shy. given the chance he could coax a fucking symphony out of you, he just knows it. he just doesn’t know when such an opportunity will ever come.
as it turns out, though, opportunity does knock... and sooner than either of you would have ever thought.
friday night. your mom is working late and you're eating dinner with your stepdad. he has that stern look on his face 24/7 so you suggest cracking open a bottle of wine to share. to your surprise... sunghoon agrees.
he's always been on the stricter side. he always frowns when you do anything... risky. so you didn't think he would say yes to drinking with you.
neither of you are drunk drunk yet but the combination of alcohol and being alone together makes you both start playing never have i ever in your room. you both have glasses of wine in your hands. his pretty hands.
"never have i ever... uh... gotten married." you smirked and your stepdad just rolled his eyes at you.
"very funny."
"okay you go."
"never have i ever gone my whole life without cumming even once."
you turned completely hot as you wondered if he meant that.
"what?! where did that come from?"
sunghoon nods at the box with your vibrator. you just now realize that it's sitting wide open on your nightstand and you blush.
"just assumed."
you sit up quickly. "i just got out of a yearlong relationship okay. what... you think i've never cum?"
"have you?"
"yes..." he tilts his head and you get flustered. "yes god, yes! yes, i've had an orgasm before!"
"but...?"
you aren't sure what it is about this night, this moment that makes you so honest with him. is it the alcohol? or his gaze? the clear and cruel behind his glasses? "only by myself," you whisper and cross your legs to hide the ache between them. "never because of someone else..."
to your surprise he doesn't laugh or mock you for your answer. he purses his lips and shrugs. sighs. "at least you can get off on your own."
"yeah i guess... i just," you look back at the box, "it's different having someone touching you. i'd rather have that... without the orgasms.... if i had to choose." you look up at him shyly and look away. the atmosphere grows serious, vulnerable, and intimate. and then your stepdad snickers. you look up at him. "what?"
"you don't have to choose."
you roll your eyes. "yeah right."
"i'm serious."
"pfft. aren't you confident? are you sure no one's faked it with you?"
"faked it? possibly. but unlikely."
"jungwon couldn't tell i was faking it."
your stepdad scoffs, "he's a boy. he doesn't know how to pleasure you like a man."
"like you can do any better."
he goes quiet. it's unlike him... so unexpected, and you almost ask him what's wrong. but he says "come here" in a low voice.
"what?"
"come here y/n."
you haven't had enough to drink to be drunk. but as you move across the mattress toward him, you kinda know what's coming and you want to jump into him. you've been touched before, cuddled, but there's something different tonight. something about the way he pulls you onto his lap so that you're straddlign him. something about the feeling of his hand on your thigh, his palm on your cheek, his warm chest against yours.
"was that a challenge dear?" he asks.
"what if it was?"
-
sunghoon isn’t sure which one of you makes the first move or who leans in first but it doesn’t matter, because how many times has he fantasized about exactly this? how many times has he sat there on the couch with your head on his lap as you watched some mind-numbing chick flick, run his hands through your hair and beat back the urge to yank?
he doesn’t hold back now. one hand curls into a fist and he pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at him. but that's his stepdaughter! he can't just... fuck your cheeks are flushed and lips slightly parted—
he wants to fucking ruin you.
your hands are still against his chest but they went slightly limp in surprise at having your hair pulled. when he slides his hand up the back of your shirt, you seem to come back to life, winding your arms around his neck. you’re breathing faster than usual and he can feel your nipples through your shirt and you’re tugging at the collar of his shirt and yeah, if he doesn’t get your clothes off sometime in the next thirty seconds he’s going to go insane.
he doesn’t tear your shirt in half... he has more self control than that. much easier to just pull it up and force your arms above your head, and then before you can bring them back down, push you gently so that you fall on the bed, legs still parted around his hips and eyes wide. he tugs off your shorts and underwear, and you grab a fistful of the front of his shirt to bring him crashing back into you for a desperate open-mouthed kiss. he catches the back of your neck with one hand mostly for support, his hand big enough in comparison to your neck that he’s able to rest his thumb just below your jaw. when he gives your neck an experimental squeeze you gasp into his mouth.
interesting. 
you as quiet as he'd expected. just gasps and whimpers. it’s cute. it’s also infuriating. he wants to hear you. he wants to hear you moan, beg, scream. and he doesn’t need a vibrator to do it.
you’re playing with the hem of his shirt. your fingers are electric against his skin and the slight touch sending flickers of desire careening through his veins and it’s too much and not enough and he reaches around your back to snap open the hook of your bra a moment before he lets you pull his shirt over his head, and there are no words to explain how it feels to have his stepdaughter's bare chest flush against his... to reach down and feel how wet you are. you’re soft and warm and so so wet, it’s driving him crazy and he isn’t even inside you yet.
as he pulls away and backs up to stand once more by the edge of the bed, you get into as upright a position as you can manage, trying to brace yourself on your elbows. “what are you...?"
the mattress slips out from under you as he pulls you forward by the waist, positioning you so that your hips are in line with the end of the bed as he sinks to his knees and buries his face in your cunt.
he doesn’t move slowly and doesn’t ease you into it. one moment you’re lying there bewildered, and the next you’re trying to buck your hips up against his face. trying because he’s holding you down with enough force you half expect to find his fingerprints there tomorrow.
he listens to you, pausing until you whisper yes and please. he takes each twitch of your legs and sharp intake of breath into consideration as he finds each sweet spot and latches onto them with precision. 
you scrabble for something to hold onto, grasping at the sheets. he takes enough pity on you to reach one hand up... the other on your hips keeping you firmly in place... his pretty fingers interlacing with yours. another lick has you arching off the bed with your head thrown back and it takes you a moment to realize he’s guided your hand to the back of his head. 
you thread your fingers loosely through his hair careful not to pull. he can tell you’re holding back because he makes a frustrated noise against you and then he turns his head and bites your thigh, his free hand pushing your hand against his hair. when he sucks on your clit again it’s startling and sweet and so intense that you don’t think twice about tightening your grip... unconsciously guiding him exactly where you need him. 
the first time you really let go and tug at his hair he lets out a growl, pleased and primal. sunghoon's hold on your hips loosens, allowing you to ride his face in earnest with all your shy manners gone and forgotten as the overwhelming wave of sensations narrows to a point of pure excruciating pleasure and you finally cum.
he doesn’t stop.
why would he? now that he finally has you where he wants you. and vice versa if the way you’re still writhing on the bed is any indication. you’re still frustratingly quiet but the sight of you so lost in sensation and twitching with the aftershocks is enough to sate him for now.
you’re overstimulated for sure with your hand weak against his temple but all your protests are replaced by whispered pleas for more, oh fuck, more, daddy, more please as he slips one finger inside you. slowly. wet as you are and relaxed from your first orgasm of the night. 
did you really think he’d stop at one? the thought makes him chuckle against you. he's two knuckles deep and to his delight he gets something more than a gasp. he repeats the motion and adds another finger and oh, oh, you sound just as good as he’d imagined. better, so much better. he moves harder and faster, working you out until he feels you tensing, feels you right on the edge...
... and he stops.
you whine. you’re turning your head up to look at him. he’s pleased to see what a mess you look: flushed face, messy hair, your lips kiss-swollen. your eyes still clear and soft with the afterglow of your previous orgasm. “why did you stop?”
he lets out a low thoughtful hum before turning to face you. “what’s the matter?” you’re taken aback by his eagerness across his face. he licks his thumb and smirks and you bite your lip. “one isn’t enough?”
"ah... uh..."
he climbs up the bed to meet you in another bruising kiss, the taste of you still on his lips and your legs spreading further to allow his hips to slot between them. once you’ve helped him get off all clothing below the belt you melt into his touch only to be jolted back when he rolls over to pull you on top of him.
“i stopped,” your stepdad grunts, getting a good handful of thigh to squeeze and smirking when he hears your moans, “because this time you’re going to cum on my cock my pretty girl.”
he pulls you against him as if to demonstrate and you can’t help but let out another louder sigh at the feeling of him long and hard and throbbing against you. you sit up to align yourself and the first press of him inside you is so good that your head tips back and your lower lip caught between your teeth as you bite back another moan. 
sunghoon's voice is mocking but he breaks as you slide down to be seated fully against him with the tip of his cock practically kissing your cervix. “fuck... such a cock hungry whore.... cum once already and you’re still so tight. is this what you needed?” he starts leading you in an achingly slow rhythm and relishing in the way you clench around him with every thrust. you nod as your eyes flutter shut. the sting of his hand on your ass makes you whimper. “c’mon little girl. want to hear you say it.”
“say... oh fuck, i, fuck, daddy." you moan.
“you act so innocent. i bet you think about me fucking your pretty pussy all the time huh? you think of your stepdad fucking you? behind your mom's back? huh? tell me.” he fucks up into you hard, his hands on your hips pinning your hips to the mattress. “convince me you deserve to cum.”
when you reach for your clit he catches your wrists in one hand. “please.”
“please what?”
“please let me cum daddy.“
he shakes his head. “not good enough. if you’re desperate enough to grind on my cock then your slutty enough to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 
desperate, slutty... you’d never realized until now that degradation was something that turned you on. you bite your lip one last time and your eyes fix on his. “i want to cum on your cock. please daddy, fuck."
"that so? you want your stepdad to fuck you? aren't you such a dirty whore?"
"y-yes... i want you to fuck me hard. want you to fuck me all night." he rewards you with a few fingers circling your clit and you almost choke on a moan. ”i want you to fuck me into the mattress until i can’t think straight.”
sunghoon can’t help but shudder at that... at the sound of you. you, his shy and not-so-innocent stepdaughter. such filthy words in your sugar-sweet voice.
it’s only a matter of seconds before he has you on your back with your legs draped over his shoulders and he's filling you up at an almost brutal pace. he’s rewarded with the shaking of your legs and the frantic drag of your nails across his back, and most of all the way you can’t help but moan with each thrust as you grow closer and closer to falling over the edge.
when you cum again you seem to melt into him, clenching and squelching around him with the prettiest cries he’s ever heard and that’s all it takes for him to pull out so that he can come on your stomach. you’re still twitching as he does and all he can think as he collapses next to you is that he’d give anything to see you like this, fucked out and hazy and covered in his seed every day for the rest of his life. 
“two orgasms,” he finally says, once the two of you have spent a few minutes in silence. “easy. your ex must be even more of an idiot than i thought.”
without thinking you press a kiss to his shoulder. “thanks,” you whisper. he doesn’t answer... not at first. not out loud. but a moment later you feel him shift, reaching across you to grab something from the nightstand. then he’s above you and kissing you. it's soft, deep, sleepy in your mutual post-orgasmic haze and you sense some mischief behind it. when he pulls back you see it in his eyes as well.
you blink up at him. “what are you..."
“making you cum a third time.” you can do nothing but grab your stepdad's shoulder again as he reaches down to lower the vibrator to your clit and as you whine again at the sting. you feel his free hand on your cheek and take two of those long pretty fingers into your mouth. he smirks at you. “why don't we test your limits baby?”
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spotsandsocks · 2 days
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FUCK IT FRIDAY!!
Tagged by @tizniz @shipperqueen6 @thekristen999 thank you 💜💜💜
putting the F in our Friday again as for reasons (aka @stagefoureddiediaz ) I was reminded of this so in my eternal battle to bring 911 fans into the dragonhold or weyr I offer art and smut to start the weekend from to To Fly The Skies 60K
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The gap between them makes him ache, it feels too wide after what they just shared. Buck slides closer, slowly because he feels oddly shy right now. Eddie continues to smile softly and reaches out to take his hand, fingers brushing his knuckles in a gentle caress. It makes his heart flutter, Buck’s eyes drop and focus of the slow movement, his heart is beating faster.
“I’m glad you’re home.” Buck’s voice is soft and quiet, he lifts his eyes to meet Eddie’s and ends up caught there, just looking at him, wondering how this happened to him. How he got to have this man. 
“Me too” Eddie matches his quiet tone not looking away.
“And we’re good now?” Buck checks, biting on his lower lip nervously. Eddie lifts the hand not holding onto Buck and frees his lip from the anxious nibbling, “you’ll hurt yourself like that” he mummers, thumb now running gently across the reddened skin, Buck lets his mouth relax, his breath quickening at the look in Eddie’s eyes.
“Yes we’re good,” he starts to push Buck backwards  “and we have some time before Chris will be back. If you can think of anything we could do?” His eyes crinkle as he says it and Buck’s hit with a wave of love and affection, it’s coming from both of them, flowing freely in both directions.
Buck laughs, as Eddie pushes him lower, he lets himself be pressed flat onto the bed, “cool, did you want to get some chores done” he smirks at the look he gets “cos I kinda need to tidy up round here.”
“Shut up” Eddie tells him fondly, as he leans further forward, hands on either side of Buck’s head, swinging his leg over so he can straddle Buck.
Buck likes the direction this is going “You going to make me?” he challenges teasingly.
”Maybe” Eddie’s voice is deep and holds a promise Buck is very interested in investigating. He can’t help notice how the muscles of Eddie’s arms flex as he gets slowly closer controlling his decent carefully until he’s lying flat on top of him, their  bodies pressed together. Buck shudders at the relief it brings, Eddie’s a steady reassuring weight holding him down, enveloping him, with their chests pressed together like this their hearts are aligned, beating so closely to each other. He feels a little dizzy at the thought as he lifts his head up, silently asking to be kissed.  Eddie obliges, dipping down to close the tiny gap left between them, taking Buck’s lips softly with his own, moving them slowly over Buck’s. He teases and pulls at the sensitive flesh gently until Buck’s moaning softly, moving with him. Eventually Eddie pulls away lightly nipping at Buck’s now swollen lip. He sits up moving his weight in just the right way to make Buck groan louder and move his hips in response.
Eddie looks flushed, his eyes bright in the dim room but he chuckles. “You have missed me huh, if a little kiss can get you all worked up like this.” Buck attempts an outraged glare because he says it as if Buck can’t see how hard Eddie is too, as if he isn’t sitting there with a wicked smile as he rocks his hips gently, moving against Buck sending little jolts of pleasure through them both.
Then Eddie rubs against him harder and Buck arches up stifling another moan he manages to say “want me to show you how much I missed you?”
Eddie keeps up the steady rhythm and Buck’s needy whine finally slips out.
“Oh I can tell baby” Eddie sounds extremely pleased by the fact and by the way Buck suddenly gasps out his name.
“Tell me more” he says his voice becoming rougher, letting his own need start to show. Buck knows how much Eddie likes it when he talks in bed, what it does to him. He’s happy to oblige.
“That first night I was so cold without you,” Eddie leans back down to start work on Buck’s jaw and neck, it makes it harder to concentrate but Buck makes the effort, “couldn’t sleep, wanted you to keep me warm.” Eddie hums next to his skin asking for more.
“Missed you arms, your hands” his breath stutters as Eddie’s mouth makes contact with his chest, clever fingers having unbuttoned his shirt without him noticing. Eddie runs his fingers over muscle and sucks marks onto his body then soothes them with kisses. Buck arches up with breathless gasps that pushes his hips forward.  He’s stopped talking so Eddie prompts him “what else did you think or” he hums against his skin, runs the flat of his tongue over Buck’s nipple “do while I was gone?”
Buck gathers himself and continues “Thought about you, things you’d do to me if you were there. Thought about this, your mouth all over me” Eddie grazes his teeth over Buck’s nipple making him hiss in pleasure. “Yeah like that, made me hard Eddie just thinking about you. Wanted to touch myself” 
Eddie sounds cool and collected when he asks “Did you?”
“Tried to be good and wait but I couldn’t, felt so good, not as good as your hand, still wished it was you”
He’s aching now dick trapped in his trousers straining for release.
“Show me” Eddie pulls away, and Buck can see he’s not calm at all, he’s flushed and his eyes look almost black, his desire clear in his heated gaze.
Now Buck’s got room to move, he misses Eddie’s warmth but he makes quick work of his clothes. Eddie’s still dressed, sitting next to him, his eyes burning as he watches Buck revel more and more skin until there nothing left to remove, Eddie takes a deep breath, “Shards you’re so ….” His hand traces across his body, chest, stomach, sliding his hand past his hips to linger over the strength in his thighs, his hand roams freely but he doesn’t touch the one place Buck wants him too. 
Eddie’s watching him intently eyes dark and hooded. “Show me” he asks again then comes back to press soft bites into the flesh of his neck up to his ear, making Buck whimper, he whispers  “don’t rush baby take your time.”
Buck’s eyelids flutter shut, his hands traces the outline of his cock, he lets his fingers drift lightly up and down, he’s only starting to tease himself. He can hear the hitch in Eddie’s breathing and opens his eyes to see him staring down the length of his body, he’s transfixed by the sight of Buck’s hand sliding up and down. Buck wants to push them both a little further.
“I touched myself like this, thinking about you, wishing it was you.” He lets his grip get firmer he wants a little more, he moans at the feeling and at the thought that Eddie’s watching, enjoying what he sees, getting harder. He can feel him against his leg, a firm solid line, he smiles when he starts to move, rubbing himself against Buck’s thigh. He’s trying to be quiet but he’s not doing very well. Eddie shifts slightly Buck doesn’t realise where his hands have gone until he feels a finger slide between his legs to circle slowly around his entrance, 
“Did you touch yourself here too? Imagine me here?” 
He had but he can’t say it because Eddie fingers have pushed in a little and taken his words away.
“Buck?
He’s panting now, feeling a little desperate “yeah yeah I did, didn’t feel like this, more, please.” The last word comes out as a desperate moan. Eddie gives him more, pushing in again but only a little, teasing him more than anything until Buck’s a shivering mess within a few minutes.
Eddie’s voice pulls him out of the wave of sensations “I wasn’t planning on fucking you Buck, was planning on riding you, make you come like that but now I can’t choose.” Buck can only gasp, Eddie has two fingers in him and it’s not enough,
“both we could do both” he stutters out. Eddie laughs, “so greedy” he kisses him and slides his fingers out, keeps a little pressure there so Buck twitches trying to get them back.
“No, you look so good, sound so needy, I think I’ll fuck you” he sounds so casual, like they’re discussing what to have for breakfast and he’s not driving Buck out of his mind. Buck’s nods to show he’s on board, he can’t talk because Eddie’s other hand is in his mouth fingers sliding in and out. Buck’s playing with them with his tongue, moaning around their thickness thinking about Eddie’s cock in his mouth instead. “You look so ready for it baby, is that what you wanted while I was gone, my cock in you making you come?
Fuck it was, and it sounded even better now it was Eddie suggesting it while his fingers are dipping back in stretching  him, when Eddie lets his fingers slide from Buck’s mouth over his throat and rests his hand above his heart, Buck quickly makes it clear what he wants. 
“Please Eddie can we, will you? I want it.”
Eddie moves, grabs the salve they use for just these occasions and with one quick pull brings Buck to the edge of the bed leans over for more kisses as unbuttons himself, uses the salve with more teasing fingers and then lines himself up, bending Buck’s knees, and slowly so slowly pushes in. The long slow slide makes them both moan and Buck’s hands grasp at the covers of the bed.
Eddie keeps his pace slow, enjoying Buck’s increasingly frantic noises, his words of encouragement to go harder, faster, he doesn’t listen, trying to make this last. Buck’s hands seek and find his own cock and start to move around it, firm hard strokes, he doesn’t want to wait any longer, with each stroke he sounds even wilder, until it’s too much temptation for Eddie and he does what he Buck’s begging him to do, increases the pace and is rewarded in a few moments with increasingly frantic moans.
”yeah Eddie just like that,” he’s panting and gasping, getting so close “harder, there, yeah, that’s it I’m so close, he lets out a strangled whimper “ yeah, there ah, you’re gonna make me come, yes” he can hear his own ragged breathing as the words peeter out and become a long high gasp as he comes with a bone deep shudder. Eddie watches wide eyes tracing the evidence of Buck’s pleasure spread out all over his chest and with only a few more thrusts joins him with his own soundless gasp.
Once their heartbeats settles they rearrange themselves. Eddie pulls Buck in close, kisses him starting between his birthmark and the thread score that’s healing.
Buck mummers “welcome home” and Eddie smiles into the kisses he’s leaving against Buck’s face.
It is very good to be back.
@monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz
@buffaluff @bi-buckrights @fiona-fififi @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus
@bidisasterevankinard @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @underwaterninja13 @stagefoureddiediaz
@thewolvesof1998 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz
@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @honestlydarkprincess @elvensorceress @steadfastsaturnsrings
@weewootruck @giddyupbuck @rainbow-nerdss @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie
@watchyourbuck @loveyouanyway @saybiwithme @bewilderedbuckley @ronordmann
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grandlinedreams · 1 day
Text
|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok
|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔����✨️
|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers
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He doesn't know why he's here.
No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.
Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.
There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.
Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.
The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.
Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.
Is that a bell?
Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.
His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.
Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?
"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."
It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."
"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.
Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.
"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."
Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."
You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"
Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.
"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.
"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."
Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.
"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."
You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."
You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.
Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.
To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.
"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."
The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.
"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."
Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"
"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."
Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."
You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."
Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."
You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.
Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."
The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.
You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.
"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."
Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.
The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.
Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.
He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.
"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"
"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.
"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."
Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"
Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.
"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."
And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."
A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"
A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."
The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.
You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."
He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"
You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."
Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.
"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"
Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.
"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"
Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."
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ang311ic · 2 days
Text
Ex boyfriend Gaz giving you a hand
The bed rattled beneath his weak thrusts. You didn’t know how much more you could take of this, laying limp under Kevin while he fucked you. On nights like this you’d think of Kyle as much as you didn’t want to. He would always know when to be gentle or rough. After long hard nights at work he’d be so soft, kissing down your body like you were something to worship. His thrusts were slow but intense, ensuring to keep eye contact until you unraveled under his touch. On other nights, after a fight or after he’s home from deployment it would be carnal and intense. His hand would grapple tightly in your hair, his breath would fan against your ear as he whispered some of the dirtiest things that you’ve ever heard in your ear. His thrusts were harsh but even then, managing to keep a steady pace as he slammed into you.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum” You were snapped out of your thoughts by the harsh breathy request. You liked him of course you did, sometimes you just wondered if you rushed into it. You broke up with Gaz because he was always away with work, arguments becoming more and more abrupt. After you broke up you were lonely and your pride was too strong to allow you to run back to Kyle so that’s how you ended up with Kevin. And he was…fine, he was nice, just different. Your relationship was calm, simple. And, that’s what you wanted. Right?
Kevin didn’t do aftercare and you were ok with that, you guess. He’s simplistic, he doesn’t need to do aftercare. That’s just your relationship. “Did you finish?” He asked, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before flopping back onto his side of the bed. You nodded and plastered a smile on your face. “Good.” With that he promptly rolled over and fell asleep leaving you alone with your thoughts, with your memories of Kyle. He would always give proper aftercare, carefully wiping down your sensitive pussy and sticky thighs, whispering sweet praises in your ear, holding you close as you slowly drifted to sleep in your big arms. He was stuck firmly in your head and it was infuriating. You wanted to go over to his flat and punch him…and then suck his dick.
It has been two hours since he fell asleep, you were alone here in the dark and desperately horny with a broken vibrator. You sigh and get up and slip out of the sweaty sheets and wander into the cool air of the living room. Your phone was held tightly in your fingers. You stare at your list of contacts, his name still in there, the last in ‘K’. One click. That is all it would take to get to talk to him again. Nothing serious, completely innocent. People chat with their exes all the time. Slowly, you clicked his name and then proceeded to pace round the room while the phone rang. He was probably out, with another girl or getting drunk or at work. He could be in the middle of fighting a war and you’re here calling him. What are you doing?
Before you could hang up and get back into bed resuming your normal simple life he picked up. You thought you were going to throw up at the sound of his voice, he didn’t even sound angry, completely neutral. “Hello?” Deep, familiar, sexy. Your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name coming out his mouth. Pathetic. It felt like when you first started talking to him everything was so exciting for no reason. It was driving you insane. You didn’t want to think like this but your mind was against you. You were fighting a loosing battle.
“Hi.” You squeak, eventually you stop pacing and flop back onto the couch, fiddling with the hem of your pajama shorts. You were full of nervous energy. “I didn’t know if you were working or not. Probably should’ve checked first.” The words stumble out of your mouth clumsily, not like the sharp wit you were used to using against him.
“You’re fine, lovey.” He soothes, his voice remaining silky smooth. You don’t bother correcting him on ‘lovey’, deciding to allow it you also don’t admit that you like it a little too much. “How’s what’s his name?” He knew his name, you know he knew his name but instead he’s keeping up the unbothered act.
“Kevin and yeah he’s fine.” You mumble not going into any more detail then you have to. You didn’t call him to talk about Kevin, you didn’t even want to be thinking about Kevin right now to be perfectly honest. “He’s asleep.”
“Ah bet he doesn’t know about this.” His voice sounds sincere but really you could hear the smirk in his voice. Smug bastard. “There any reason you’re calling me? This...Kevin not cutting it anymore?” He hums down the line, his voice low and dark making you squirm in your seat.
“No..” It came out in almost a whine which didn’t help your case. You took a deep breath and cleared your throat in an attempt to collect yourself but you couldn’t stop the heat from pooling in your stomach. “No, he’s good, great even. More than cutting it.” A lie, a big fat lie and from the silence down the line you could tell he knew.
“Why did you call me then?” He pushes. He couldn’t just hang up but instead he just keeps poking at you. This time it was your turn to be silent. You knew exactly what to say, exactly what he wanted you to say but instead you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t bring yourself to say I want you to fuck me or he doesn’t fuck me as good as you. “Do you know what I think?” He drawls, opting to break the silence himself. “I think that you want me to make you feel good but you’re too scared to say it. I think, no, I know, your little boyfriend doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.” His words carried weight, they were dark and promising. “You need me, love. I know that much.” As condescending as his words were, they didn’t make you any less wet, you could feel yourself getting warmer by the minute.
You can feel the fight seeping out of your skin already. You don’t want to fight, all you want to do is let him take control. Despite your words your hand slips down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating as it reaches the elastic. “This is bad.” You whisper, nervous that any minute Kevin could be walking in on this. You just wanted it so badly. “This is so so bad. Wrong.” You rationalize though there’s no point in it neither of you are listening to it.
“It’s one night.” He reassures making your hand which was once lying flat on your stomach slip under your clothes to feel the sticky heat of your cunt that had been collecting. “One night of you finally getting what you want. That’s not bad, that’s not bad at all.” His words were like poison, infecting your mind. He’s ruining you and you didn’t mind one bit. It was all so gentle, something so slow and sweet but the edge was prominent. You both knew this was wrong and that’s what made it so good. "You can keep touching yourself, you can. You've just got to listen to what I say, I'll help you feel good." He guides, his orders so firm but so gentle at once. "Keep rubbing your clit, nice and slow like I used to do when you felt like being bratty." You follow his orders quickly and let your hand slide under your underwear, rubbing yourself slowly, slick collecting on your fingers. Your moans were getting louder and more erratic. He was basking in it, you knew he must be. You could tell as his orders were getting more precise. "One finger in, just one." You whined at that, one finger wasn't enough. It wouldn't feel anything like him. Despite your pleas he wouldn't budge. He knew what he wanted and he wanted you to listen to him. He wanted to be in charge again. "Just one, if you keep complaining then I'll hang up and leave you with that pathetic boyfriend of yours." You didn't want him to hang up so you shut yourself up, pushing your index finger in your hole.
Your hips bucked up against your own hand, the pleasure slowly building. Your finger pumped in and out of your clenching hole, an obscene squelching noise following with every thrust. "Please," You begged meaninglessly, you didn't know if you wanted another finger or if you wanted to cum right then or if you just wanted him to be here with you. "Fuck. Feels good." You moaned simply, words feeling heavy as lead coming out your mouth.
"Moan my name." It was clear what he wants, he wants to be the one to own you, the name you moan, the one to share a connection with you. "Moan my name and I'll let you put another finger in, I'll let you finally stretch yourself out a bit." He coos, the offer sounding far too sugary sweet to resist.
“Kyle. Oh fuck Kyle please.” You moaned down the line, high and whiny but this time toy hadn’t attempted to tone it down you were too far gone for that. His order broke through your haze of pleasure allowing you to put another finger inside of you. You did, both your fingers now sliding in and out of your gummy walls. It was better. Almost like the stretch he gives you, almost
“That’s it. You’re always so good for me.” Kyle praises bringing that cool closer to snapping. He knew exactly what to say, what to do. Sometimes it made you wonder why exactly you broke up with him, the nostalgia rose coloured haze clouding your vision. You couldn’t concentrate on that right now the only thing you could do is desperately trying to bring yourself to climax. “You’re getting so loud. You’re close aren’t you?”
“Yes, yeah. Close- I’m close.” You splutter, biting down on your lip tightly to silence yourself. It was 4am now, the house even the city was completely quiet. You just needed to finish, cum without giving yourself away that’s it. “Kyle! Oh fuck Kyle.” You moaned his name repeatedly not to get any sort of reward or to earn something, instead because he was the only thing on your mind.
“Good girl, such a good girl.” His praise is soft and genuine leas dark from when your fingers were stuffed deep inside your cunt. It was like he wanted to crawl through the phone and stroke your hair, kiss your forehead… then your sore pussy. You curled into the soft plush of your couch, you needed to get up and shower, wash the cum from your thighs and the guilt from your skin. Act like this never happened. He apparently had other ideas.
“Go unlock the door. I’ll be there in half an hour, someone needs to help get you cleaned up.”
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quinnxxx · 2 days
Text
Thinking about how Choso eats you out like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get to
warnings: pussy eating, porn without plot kinda, erm I think that’s it. slight dirty talk. half- proofread. just drabbles. enjoy? or don’t. Lemme know if I missed any
He’d come back home from work a little while ago, and seeing you work on something on your laptop, your reading glasses on and hair in a messy bun-
That along with some exhaustion as well as some stress he needed to burn was enough to take you right then and there.
Choso was always a needy man, very clingy and sensitive. And if there was one thing he couldn’t go a day without, it was the sweet, sweet taste of your cunt.
You don’t remember exactly how it happened, but now your sweatpants are off, somewhere on the floor. Along with your panties. He had your legs pinned against your chest tightly, you couldn’t move them even if you really wanted to.
Choso had felt shivers the immediate second he saw your pretty cunt. He couldn’t help but lick a nice stripe up your wetness, groaning at the taste as you involuntarily twitched. And now you were the one shivering.
“Missed you…” he mumbles against your clit, which makes you squirm a bit. He places a kiss on the sensitive bud and your feet wobble in the air, unable to move your legs. “Cho…” you breathe out, already feeling dizzy.
“Mhm, I know. I’ll make you feel good, mm?”
You nod, and maybe it came out a little too eager because he chuckles softly before diving in.
You can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips once he delves his tongue into your wetness. With his nose prodding at your clit, his tongue slides in and out of your sweet cunt, slurping up your juices nonstop. His tongue swirling inside your gummy walls.
Once his teeth graze against your clit, you think you might just lose it.
Your hand flies down to grip onto his hair, eliciting a groan out of himself. He always liked when you grabbed ahold of his hair like this, almost pulling his mouth closer to your pussy. Wanting- no, needing more stimulation. It made him feel like you were in control, even at a time like this.
And come on, we can all agree that Choso enjoys being a bottom at least sometimes.
Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and you try your best to avoid looking directly at him. Because he’s just staring at you. Either that or just closing his eyes, enjoying the taste. His meal, per say.
You couldn’t ever look him straight in the eyes, it was still embarrassing even after all this time.
Your legs were squirming and wobbling, shaking from the pure pleasure. It was overwhelming. Like you were about to explode.
“Ch-Cho- f-fuck… fuck!”
Choso smiled against your cunt almost every time you’d murmur curses or his name, or both.
He had moved to sucking directly at your clit and you felt tears prick at your eyes. It was all beginning to be just a little too much. But in a good way?
He sucks hard, gripping tighter on your thighs in your attempt to get away.
Your breaths got shallower and more rapid, head thrashing from left to right on your pillow beneath you.
“Fu-uck!” You practically scream. Thank god you didn’t have thin walls.
Your grip on his hair had tightened significantly, beginning to subtly ride his face, embarrassed you might come off as too eager or needy. But Choso thought it was hot, how you were so desperate to take everything he was giving you, because he was willing to give it over and over, as many times as you wanted.
And besides, the grip you had on his hair was also really hot too. At least to him it was.
“Mmm…” he groans against your clit. “Come on, you can do it. Cum for me, princess.”
And if you had a nickel for every time you came right after him saying ‘princess’ to you, you’d probably have at least a dollar. And it was about to be a dollar and five cents.
You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, forcing the small tears from out of your eyes as you let out an almost pornographic scream. And I mean scream. You were almost certain you were seeing the pearly white gates of heaven, a place only Choso Kamo’s mouth could take you, before you were cumming all over his tongue. He wasted absolutely zero time as he slurped it all up so eagerly. You were twitching and jerking your hips wildly. Because damn did you cum easily when it was him.
Your grip on his hair had slowly loosened as you came down from your high.
But Choso kept lapping at your folds eagerly, causing the little bit of sanity left in your head to vanish. You had to pry his head away to get him to stop, he was just so addicted.
“Cho… please… I- can’t…”
Once his head finally lifted up from your cunt, and you couldn’t help but blush once you saw his face. Completely drenched in your slick from his nose down to his chin.
“Choso… you’re…”
You couldn’t even get out a full sentence at this point, partly from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and partly from the view of your slick all over his face. It was almost embarrassing, but- and you’d never admit this to yourself or him- it was kinda kinky.
He licks his lips and you feel your cunt squeeze around nothing. Around what you half wish was his mouth. Still slurping and swirling inside and around your pretty-
“I’ll run a bath.” Choso interrupted your thoughts.
“Y-yeah. That- uh… yeah.”
He chuckles, standing up, using his fingers to wipe the slick off his face. You almost moan as you see him then lick the slick off of his fingers. You can see a quite prominent wet spot on his jeans, but you don’t say anything about it. He walks into the bathroom, and you start to giggle once you hear the bath water turn on.
He comes back out a moment later, his pants off and underwear assumingly changed, in his boxers and nothing else. There is a bulge in his boxers, and you flush a little again.
He crawls up the bed towards your face, and kisses you softly, and you can’t help but moan as you taste yourself on his tongue.
Choso snuggles up next to you, resting his head on your chest, drawing little shapes into your semi- sensitive thighs and stomach.
After a couple minutes he murmurs into your ear, sitting up. “Baths ready.”
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20doozers · 19 hours
Text
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★Secret★
TW: jerking off/masturbation, pervy thoughts (kinda), use of y/n, third person, gn!reader, making bets, oblivious reader, wet dreams, palming, smut,
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“Fuck-“ Georg groaned, his head tilting back as his hands gripped at your hair, pushing your head down on his cock as you deepthroated him. The room was filled with lewd groans and slurping noises, along with some soft gagging on your part. Fuck, you were good.. really good.
Georg was jolted awake from his dream by footsteps in the hallway, the noise of some giggling teens coming from outside as they passed his hotel room door. He groaned as he sat up in bed, glancing over at the alarm clock on the hotel bedside table, 5:00am. He let out a tired sounding grunt, hesitating before lifting up the covers to peek beneath his blankets. Lo and behold he was hard, so hard in fact that there was a small wet spot of pre, assumingly from his wet dream about y/n.
Be was a bit unsure, jerking off to y/n? What was he? A crazy fan boy? Yet he pushed those thoughts aside as he pulled down his pajama pants, just enough to free his aching erection. He took his cock in his hand, starting to slowly pump his hand up and down his shaft. His hand moved at a slow pace, and speeding up slightly as his mind flashed with explicit images of you, his imagination running wild.
He moaned quietly, biting down on his lip to keep his noise down as he slowly stroked himself, speeding up his pace quite a bit. His hand still stroked at his shaft as the other hand came up to palm the head of his cock. The pleasure was almost too intense, rows of goosebumps prickling at his skin as pleasure coursed through his veins.
“Fuck- fuck- fuck-“ Georg whined, he was so close to cumming, he couldn’t stop now, no way. He continued to palm the head of his cock, his whines and cries too hard to hold back in such a state. And with a few last rubs he came, his head falling back as strangled cries of your name fell from his lips as his climax spilled over him. His cock was still throbbing from the intensity, his now soft cock still grasped in his hand as he tried to catch his breath. His chest was heaving and his body was sticky with sweat, spurts of cum coating the palm of his hand as he bonelessly melted into the pillows.
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“You okay georg? You sounded like you were upset this morning..” You asked, clearly oblivious that he had been jerking off to the thought of you on the other side of the wall.
“Yeah, just had a nightmare.” Georg brushed it off, taking a bite of his waffles as the two of you sat at the table having been forced to have breakfast with the rest of the band.
“Oh, okay.. well if you need help call me next time.” You hummed, thinking you were just making a kind offer. Georg nodded and went back to eating, a small flush forming on his cheeks from the offer. You heard a quiet snicker from Tom as he leaned over and whispered to bill, shrugging it off since you couldn’t hear him.
“20€, pay up.” Tom said smugly to bill, watching as the ravenette rolled his eyes and handed Tom the money, watching him greedily shove it in his pocket. Nobody knows what the two had made a bet on, but most likely it was Georg’s little secret.
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YAYY FINALLY A FIC IS OUT!! It’s a bit of a short one but I wrote it at like 2am while delirious so don’t judge me and excuse any mistakes. I’m working on a longer fic I just wanted to post something to keep you little goblins (hopefully) satisfied while I work on it. Love you guys💕
Tags: @itsmealaiah @cherry-rawr @charliesgoodboy @estxkios @billskeis @goreishgorinthgoreofshits @madzandmore @tomssexdoll
Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist!
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mickittotheman · 2 days
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Maybe #6 ...on a falling tear.
But maybe smut 😅
Ahem. Um. Yes.
Putting this under a read more cut for obvious reasons 😶
6. ...on a falling tear (but definitely smut)
It’s Ian’s day off, the house is empty, the vibrating anal beads they splurged on finally arrived in the mail, and they're having a great time.
It’s obvious, from the way Ian is grinning wide, eyes sparkling, laughter huffing from his lungs, that he’s enjoying this. 
Mickey’s enjoying it too, of course. It’s just that he expresses joy a bit differently than most people. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you, fuck you, Ian, gonna fucking kill you, fuck.”
Ian laughs again, and his warm breath puffing against Mickey’s spit soaked nipple gets an interesting response, so he follows it up by pursing his lips and blowing out a long, cool stream of air.
“Fuck. Ian,” Mickey whines, voice keening and plaintive once more. 
It’s one of the many, many things Ian loves about his husband: the way his mood flips on a dime even during sex, especially during sex, how he’ll go from growling threats to pathetic pleading to blabbering praises and back again.
“So good, it’s so good, Ian, please, love you, you're so good.”
“Yeah? You like this, baby?” Ian pulls back to get a better view of Mickey’s face. It's quite the sight to behold: skin flushed and brows furrowed and mouth swollen and slick, plush lower lip bitten hard by one sharp little canine tooth. 
Mickey tips his head back against the pillow. Shakes it frantically. “No, I don’t fucking like this, I hate this, fuck, I hate you.”
“Oh? You don’t like this?” Ian hums. Rubs one big hand soothingly up and down Mickey’s heaving chest. “Hm. Maybe we oughta try a different setting, then.”
“Wait–”
Mickey’s eyes fly open just in time to see Ian grin as he presses the button on the remote.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Ian, Ian, please–”
“Please what? Put it higher?”
Ian presses another button without waiting for an answer. Watches in awe as Mickey’s back arches, as his muscles tense, limbs straining against the restraints, as his cock jerks untouched against his stomach, come dribbling down to join the other spatters in varying states of drying.
Ian clicks the remote again. Drops the strength to the lowest setting, switches the pulse pattern to something steady and predictable.
Mickey sobs, just once, and Ian’s grin widens. 
When Mickey cries during sex, that means Ian is doing his job really, really well. 
It’d freaked him out the first time. Made him panic. Made him think he’d hurt Mickey in a way he hadn’t intended to.
But that was years ago.
Nowadays, making Mickey cry is one of Ian’s favorite activities.
“So good, baby,” he gushes, leaning in to kiss Mickey’s forehead. “You’re doing so good. You were fucking made for this, Mickey. Made to be tied up and pleasured and used all day long.”
Ian can physically feel Mickey’s skin heat up against his lips. Can feel him shudder and shake. Can feel him nod, just a tiny, jerky little motion. 
Ian pulls back again, wanting to drink in the sight of him, wanting to see it forever and ever and ever. “Fuck, baby. I should take a fucking picture. Actually, I should just keep you like this 24/7.”
Mickey’s breath stutters, his eyes fluttering open to peer up at Ian blearily, the tiniest little noise clawing from his throat. 
Ian smiles softly at him. Brings a hand up to cup his face and swipe at his tears with his thumb. “You want that, baby? Yeah. Maybe you’re right about not needing a job. Maybe I should just keep you tied up like this all day instead, ready for me to use whenever I want. Would be a great stress relief, after a long day of work. ‘Course, some days I’d be too tired to fuck you, but that’s okay. I can just leave you like this, right?”
Mickey whines in protest. Shakes his head. 
“Shh, it’s okay, Mick. I’m just teasing,” he soothes, ducking down again to kiss the fresh tear rolling down Mickey’s cheek. “I’d never be able to leave you completely untouched. I’d have to do something. Something like this, maybe.”
He clicks the remote again, ramping the vibrations back up to level five, switching the pattern to an unyielding bzzzzzzzzzz.
“Fuck!”
Ian laughs. Palms at his own dick, just to take a bit of the pressure off. “We’re almost done, babe. Promise.”
“Yeah?” Mickey pants, melting a bit in relief even as his wrists flex against the leather cuffs fruitlessly.
“Ian! Fuck, fuck you, please please please, I need you, I love you, Ian–”
“Yeah,” Ian assures him. “Just gonna make you come one more time with these in.” He pauses. Cocks his head. “Well, and then of course I’ll have to pull these out of you, one by one, and fuck knows how many times you’ll come during that. Plus, I’m obviously going to have to fuck you at least once. Maybe twice. I’m feeling pretty worked up, y’know?”
This time, Mickey comes with a high pitched whine and a steady stream of tears.
Oh yeah. They are definitely having fun.
send me a number~
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