#wrote this on my phone so i’m sorry if it gets messed up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkrelish · 1 year

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬.

ex-con!linecook!eddie x fem!reader

✶Steve messed up. He assured you over and over again that you could have the spare bedroom in his apartment, but while you took your time mulling over his offer, someone else moved in: his down-and-out best friend who needed a place to stay. When you show up at Steve's door with little warning due to your job relocating you, he suggests you and Eddie share the bedroom. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Besides the fact Eddie hated you, and in turn, you hated Eddie.✶

NSFW — smut, masturbation, eddie watches porn, dry humping, cumming in pants, reader flashes her bra & wears a pencil skirt, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, there was only one bed(room)

↳ teaser oneshot | [wc: 9.3k] | series tba!

⋅line cook hc from @bewilderedbunny⋅

Steve was a nice guy. Really.

He was your pen pal since meeting at summer camp when you were both eight-years-old. He was sweet, and wrote you back within a week, without fail. He was your first kiss one sweltering afternoon on the dock over the lake; a quick peck when the counselors weren’t looking. He was one of your first contacts in your flip phone, and his picture occupied the first circle when you got a smartphone, after pestering him to meet up with you in Indianapolis, snapping the pic at a crosswalk; a day where your conversations spanned nothing and everything. What was there to talk about when you talked via pencil, pen, markers, emojis, and photos for years, and suddenly forgot the past decade when you encircled your arms around each other?

He was a nice guy throughout all of college. He’d text you during class. You’d text him from states away, falling asleep at your dormroom desk. He worked at his father’s business. You started as an unpaid intern collecting coffee orders, and pulling all-nighters doing spreadsheet grunt work your superiors didn’t deem worthy of their time.

Stevie 🌞: just quit your job and live with me!

Stevie 🌞: I still have that spare bedroom

Stevie 🌞: rent free

Year after year, you always declined. Climbing the ranks at your job was important to you; and one day it paid off. They were relocating you to the Chicago, and if you didn’t take their pitiful relocation package, you’d get a decent advance on your next paycheck (which was dire considering your salary was roughly the same, despite the ever increasing cost of living); and knowing Steve always had that spare furnished bedroom, and most of your belongings could fit into your car (as long as you didn’t need to see out the rear window), it seemed like a done deal.

Until you surprised him.

You: hey! can i move in w you? my jobs relocating me to chicago and i might already be two hours out. sorry i didn’t text sooner. i had to leave my apartment asap. fuck paying for the damage cindy’s doberman did to that place 😬

Stevie 🌞: Lets talk when you get here

Stevie 🌞: I’ll meet you for coffee

Let’s talk? Never a good sign, even when he was smiling at you from over his latte.

————

“My friend needed the spare room, but he’s a good guy, I swear,” he told you.

“He’s just a little rough around the edges,” he told you.

“He’s understanding; I’m sure you two will get along,” he told you.

“He can make space in the closet for your stuff, and one of you can sleep on the couch,” he told you. “Maybe you can alternate! Bed, couch. It's not like I’m charging him rent, so he should be cool with you living with us until you can afford to move out, or whatever. No big deal. I don’t really care when, you know that. No rush.”

Right. Just share the room.

You weren’t present for the conversation; Steve and Eddie were in the bedroom while you stood awkwardly in the living room, but the result of the exchange made quite the first impression.

“I dunno,” Steve’s voice carried, “maybe you could work something out like you get the room Monday through Wednesday, and she gets it Thursday through Saturday. Sunday’s up in the air?”

“Oh, just share the room like I used to, huh?” Eddie asked, alluding to the life he lived several months ago. “Finally got some privacy to breathe around here, and now you’ve invited some chick to live with us without telling me? Actually–no–you invited her to live here. In my room. No heads up.”

Steve’s wince was audible in his heavy sigh. “You work weird hours, you probably won’t even have to interact with her. C’mon, man. She’s been my friend since we were kids, and it’s just until she finds her own place. She’s cool. She’ll sleep on the couch, or whatever if it really bothers you; just like, let her keep her clothes and shit in here, and let her use the computer for work.”

“Whatever, man.”

“Eddie, wait!”

Thunderous footsteps and a seething, “Fuck this,” followed the heightened emotions, and before you could straighten your spine, you were introduced to your new roommate.

His pace faltered, not expecting you to be standing there. The fine wrinkles in the outer corner of his eyes pinched tighter, and his long hair flowed around a faded black snake tattoo on his throat, stretching across the strained tendons it was inked over, reaching the twitching muscle in his jaw from his clenched teeth. It took him a narrow-eyed glance to sum you and your pink luggage up, and place you firmly in the ‘I don’t like you’ category in his mind, and he continued his march.

“Hi! I’m–”

Your outstretched hand went ignored as he passed you.

He shoved on his boots, and slammed the front door behind him, rattling every piece of metal in the apartment. You stared at where he was just standing, vision marked with a black silhouette of the good guy you’d be sharing intimate space with for the next.. however long, and still with your hand out, you swiveled to Steve. “Yeah, he seems nice.”

————

Eddie Munson glared at your very existence. He wore a permanent crease between his brows when you were in his vicinity. Apprehension tensed his muscles when your soft gaze slid from Steve, to him. There was distaste in his frown. He rolled his eyes when you laughed too loud at the TV. His voice was vitriol, words clipped when he had to speak to you. His shoulders hiked to his ears when you entered the kitchen for a glass of water and caught him mid-chew on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he got home from work. When it was your turn to sleep in the bed, he made it a point to come home as loud as possible–yanking open the drawers on the dresser, waking the computer to blazing home screen, and leaving the light on when he went to shower across the hallway, pretending he didn’t hear you grumble at him to turn it off.

You wore a sleep mask to bed after that.

And when you slept on the couch, it was the only time he cooked for himself. Scraping pans across the burners, clinking silverware, gathering his hair off his neck and twisting it between his laced fingers, creating a cradle for him to drop his head back and sigh at the ceiling, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep.

You wore earplugs to bed after that.

Eddie Munson made it known you were not welcomed in his territory, and saw your accidental warm smile thrown vaguely in his direction as a threat to his well being.

But as much as he ensured misery every second you had the fortune of spending in his presence, you weren’t so innocent of terrorizing his every waking moment either..

Soon, Monday through Wednesday, and Thursday through Saturday, and a chance at a lazy Sunday were not enough.

————

When Steve was home, he acted as the mediator when it came to you two being at each other’s throats after another vicious stare-off. Currently, Eddie was standing with his arms crossed, leaned against the counter with his cheeks darkened to a fleshy red, and you were pacing the kitchen, wrapped in a bath towel, stating your case to Steve. You argued since most of the hair clogging the drain belonged to Eddie, he should be the one to clean it. And Steve, not knowing how to interpret Eddie’s steely focus on the fridge as if you didn’t exist, nor the fact a woman was dripping wet and yelling at him, he put his hands up in defense.

He edged away from your ire until he was at the cabinet housing a toothpick dispenser, and depressed the mechanism for one to roll out. He snapped it, put his hands behind his back, and shuffled the two ends into his palm, and had you choose one. Eddie kept his gaze averted, but grasped the other.

You held the long end of the toothpick above your head with a smile to rival the kitchen’s daylight bulbs searing into your retinas. You were the winner, and Eddie was the loser who had to clean the bathroom.

This worked swell when Steve was around to mitigate the tension. But when he was on a business trip, or out on a date, the Bed Schedule was a formality at best, and largely ignored at worst.

Meaning, the bets, deals, and favors began.

They started small: Rock, paper, scissors; winner gets dibs on those just-washed sheets. Flip a coin and see who has to rough it in the living room for the next two nights. Draw the shorter toothpick and try not to stab it in Eddie’s eye when he smirked.

But those were childish games. It was the deals and favors that proved more interesting.

“Can you help me punch holes in these?” you asked, voice high and urgent as you rushed to grab your color coded pie charts from the printer and clip them into a presentation binder.

He scoffed from the bedroom doorway, smelling of fryer oil and bacon grease. “What makes you think I want to help you after cooking for assholes all night?”

“Because you’re nice, and you love me.”

“I despise you,” he corrected, crossing his arms tight over his chest. He shifted his weight from foot to foot while you organized the pages, resisting the bait to give him what he wants, but you knew in your heart it was the only way to not be late for work this morning.

“Fine. You can have the bed tonight.”

He stayed put. “Nope. You know I’m working the overnight shift until Thursday.” That way, he slept while you were at work, and you slept while he was at work.

You glanced at the blue dawn creeping in from the window, then red the time on your watch. “Okay, fine, whatever! Have it all next week. I don’t give a fuck, just help me!”

Reveling in his victory, his plush lips stretched into a wide grin, showing too much teeth. He sauntered at his leisure, closing his eyes half-way, and gazing at you down the long slope of his nose. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he mocked.

You wanted to strangle him.

–And another time–

“Shut the fuck up for an entire day, and you can have to whole fucking closet,” Eddie snapped after your fifth instance of complaining about your professional office clothes not having available hangers due to him taking them for his old, ratty band tees.

Centering yourself, you brushed the dust off your favorite pants after finding them wadded up on the floor, and whispered, “I hope a rogue knife finds its way into your thumb again tomorrow.”

You swore you saw his hand flex out the corner of your eye, reacting to your curse.

–And the week after that–

You: come help me bring up these groceries

You: elevators broken

You: we can race up the stairs

You: loser washes dishes and takes out the trash

😒dumb: as long as the loser doesn’t cry about it when she sleeps on the couch

You: whatever

😒dumb: i’ll even give you a head start to make it fair

Struck with being that person grinning down at your phone in the stuffy underground parking garage, you gilded your thumbs over the keyboard in a fluttery tease.

You: you just want an excuse to stare at my ass

It took Eddie longer to reply, fumbling with his phone to find the emoji keyboard, only to send–

😒dumb: 🙄

–And the week after that–

“Get a life, you fucking loser,” you yelled from within the metal cylinder of the dryer, bent over on your hands and knees to wrestle your silk blouse free from where it was tangled in a rope of bedsheets, after you told him–explicitly–to never wash it because he’d do it wrong.

He merely watched you struggle from the sidelines, informing you, “You’re the one who asked me to do laundry. Don’t toss your precious, delicate shirts on the bathroom floor if you don’t want them thrown in with everything else. And by the way, I did my part of the deal, so the room is still mine tonight.” As a bonus, he added as he walked away, “Suck my dick, sweetheart.”

Your gums ached from how hard you clenched your teeth. You didn’t leave your blouse on the floor. He did, when he went hunting for his wallet he left in his jeans, and dumped all the clothes out of both baskets, mixing your work clothes with his.

That night, you locked him out of the bedroom. Fuck him.

————

After tireless days of the same back and forth, the juvenile deals and favors were losing their significance. Someone needed to up the ante. And a certain line you two skirted taunted you both, but remained uncrossed until..

————

The hallway leading to your apartment was stale with inactivity. Most people had been home for hours, or were back from bars and crashed on the couch, drooling on their girlfriend’s favorite decorative pillow–the kind with the pom poms. You thought of them with envy. Snoring, dreaming of some blissful shit like sheep hopping a pasture fence. But not you. Your 9 to 5 extended far past those numbers on the clock. It skipped right over them, just like you were skipped over in meetings, being told the extra burden you were taking on was good for the company, and the programs you were learning would be paid in experience. Bullshit. You were tired, and the last thing you needed was some long haired man stubbing his toe on the coffee table to wake you up–morning or night.

But perhaps you were blessed.

You opened the door to near-darkness. Not a lamp, or TV on inside to show someone was home. Not a groan, sigh, or blast of music funneling from a set of oversized headphones. Not a creak of movement from the hallway, or bathroom; surrendering your heartbeat as the loudest feedback.

It appeared you were alone. What a wonderful thing.

The muffled thud of the low pile rug under your heels gave way to silky sweeps of plush carpet welcoming your aching pantyhose-covered feet. Moving further into the apartment, you knew the shapes to avoid in the dim light coming from above the stove, casting the coffee table and scattered stools at the breakfast bar in shadow.

Groggy from exhaustion, you blinked at the spice cabinet door Eddie left open before leaving for his shift. During a conversation with Steve, you let it slip that people who leave the cabinet doors open annoy you, so of course he began leaving one open as a greeting when you came home.

You closed it with your right hand, swinging your laptop bag wildly, and before you could react, the strap caught the top of the glass sugar jar and knocked it over in a wincing crash. Luckily, after peeping one eye open, you assessed nothing broke, but now there was a streak of glittery white dust on the countertop you definitely weren’t going to clean up.

Maybe you could strike a deal with Eddie to wipe it up for you. It was–in a way–his fault, since he left the cabinet door open. If you didn’t need to close it, none of this would’ve happened..

You made a gagging sound.

Since when did your immediate thought process swing to him, and how do you get it to stop? It was bad enough you peeked around the corner into the hallway, praying, praying, praying the bedroom light was off, and feeling your body slump with utter relief when it was. Being on the same planet as him was hell, you didn’t need your private thoughts to linger on him, too.

Mentally dismissing Eddie Munson from your brainspace, you invited yourself into the bedroom. You sought the cushy mattress to cradle your weary body after a long day, and the nest of cozy fleece blankets to swaddle you as you drifted to sleep. Unfortunately, the idiot’s pillow smelled far too much like him; cigarettes and cheap vanilla cologne combined with his hair products, burning your nose like toasted sugar. Despicable. Just the worst. You should exchange it with your own pillow, but you forgot it on the couch, and the couch was so very, very far away..

~~~

Eddie sat crouched in the alleyway outside of Benny’s Diner with a stubby cigarette balanced between his lips, blowing the smoke out in a slow exhale like a roll of fog on a misty morning. Cold emanated from the bricks pricking the expanse of his shoulders, and the night air chilled his damp shirt to his sticky skin, erupting goosebumps along his forearms. Standing around him were the other cooks on break. He didn’t share a common language with them outside of gestures, curse words, and kitchen lingo, but they gathered in a semi-circle as if to include him.

His shift was over. He’d technically clocked out, but he loitered until their vices were stomped under their shoes, and he snuffed his glowing ash on the wall behind him, and followed them inside.

Washing his hands first, he dried them on the towel tucked under the string of his apron tied around his waist, and set up a space on the flat top for him to occupy since the dinner rush had long since died, and the only patrons on the floor were drunks wandering in for greasy hashbrowns. He grabbed the four quart Cambro from the fridge beneath the prep area, and ladled enough batter for two large pancakes. Borrowing a station, he sliced up a ripe banana from the walk-in, and dropped it into a hot pan with a bit of butter, caramelizing them on the range while he waited for the pancakes to be flipped.

The guys behind him read off the few tickets, and carried their conversation from earlier. Eddie caught some of it, learning a few words here or there, but regardless of the language barrier, he knew they were talking about him. They were snickering with their heads together, pointing at the pancakes he was making despite being clocked out.

Eddie spoke with a sneaky grin, “If I make them for her, she’ll leave me the fuck alone on my day off.”

The guys may not have understood entirely what he meant, but his sunny disposition juxtaposed by his wry gaze communicated a universal plight: girls.

One of their hands landed hard between Eddie’s shoulder blades when they doubled over in a belly laugh, and the other one made whip-cracking sounds, calling him the same slang word he called the married cooks. It wasn’t worth it to attempt to correct them that these pancakes were not for his girl, but for his future migraine, so he hummed along with them, and flipped the pancakes with his right hand while tossing the bananas with a swift jerk of his left.

After their gossip, they went back to work, and Eddie grabbed a to-go container, loading it with the two pancakes and sliding the caramelized bananas on top. He brought it to the prep area to drizzle with chocolate sauce, and finished it off with heart-shaped strawberries, a dusting of powdered sugar, and a sprig of mint. He didn’t cut the strawberries that way with ulterior motives, it was just something he did when he had spare time in the morning. Cutting a wedge out of the stemmed top, and slicing them vertical. The customers liked it. It was cute, supposedly. There were no hidden intentions to him taking his time to place them just so around the box; it was merely him taking pride in how he plated his dish.

Clamping the container shut, he untied his apron, changed his shoes, and left out the back entrance, kicking pebbles under the crescent moon, and walking through the front door of the next building over. Gray concrete, a faulty elevator, ugly rugs to feign elegance, and high rise as far as ‘high rise when you live next a bunch of squatty buildings’ went. It was home, and it was blissfully dark inside.

Eddie worked his feet out of his tied-once-and-never-untied street shoes, and dropped his non-slip clogs next to them in a loud clatter.

He breathed. Inhaled deep. Sighed through his nose.

Quiet. Peaceful respite behind his eyelids.

The adrenaline ebbed. The hours of shouting and being shouted at, metal on metal clangs, timer beeps, and mechanical whirr of a ticket being printed out would never cease haunting his mind, but he should stop flinching from the imaginary sounds after a few hours. The pain stretching the length of his back should ease under a hot shower. The throbbing ache in his knees should lessen once he sleeps. The fatigue, like needles driven into his bones, should heal so he could be on his feet for thirteen more hours tomorrow.

Warmth worked its way beyond the calluses creating a barrier in his palm supporting the styrofoam container. Syrupy sweet hot sugar invaded his nostrils from the pancake bribe, battling the stench of his dried sweat and body odor baked into his t-shirt. The tiled entryway beneath his feet woke him out of his daze, and he slid his heavy-lidded gaze to the vacant couch; the comforter was folded, and the pillow was propped up, unslept on.

Briefly he wondered if you went out with your friends after work. But as he approached the kitchen, his dreams were crushed by a single closed cabinet door.

You were home.

You were home, and you weren’t on the couch, nor in the shower.

Eddie allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he hung his head back. In that position, he rolled the disappointment out of his shoulders, and braced them with something new.

Irritation.

Tamping the frustration in the pit of his stomach from bubbling up, he exhaled another calming breath, and opened the fridge, placing the pancakes exactly front and center amongst the fresh produce he was sometimes excited to create with, and sometimes slammed to the bottom of the trash when he was too exhausted and uninspired to do anything with their rotten corpses.

He prepared his expression into one of unbudging indifference. Flat, and unwilling to back down.

And yet, his nose scrunched when he pushed open the bedroom door, and there you were, as predicted, lounging amongst your hideous blankets spilling out from under you as if you were an opulent pearl nestled within an oyster shell.

The resentment built as he assessed your form delicately painted in a red glow from the ugly neon sign in the shape of a lipstick kiss tacked alongside his favorite band posters. He’d only lived with Steve long enough to feel comfortable decorating the blank walls, and you ruined the Rob Halford flow three days into your invasion. Your face was highlighted by the dim blue light of your laptop resting on your stomach, rising and falling with each gentle breath, and you were haloed by the Himalayan salt lamp crowding the nightstand. It’s trendy, you explained.

With vehemence, he flickered the light switch.

You cringed from the bright assault, and clacked your fingers on the keyboard, pretending you weren’t dozing off a second ago. “Can you go away?”

“What’re you doing in here?”

Unimpressed by his tone, you glazed your response in insolence. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m minding my own business.” At that, your attitude was solidified, along with how this interaction would go.

Eddie stared at you for a long minute. Not once did you acknowledge him. He watched your eyes dart across the screen, probably watching one of those Youtube videos where girls walked around exciting cities with a camera way too close to their face, and he dragged his gaze downwards, noticing you were still in your work clothes; though, your blouse and skirt were disheveled, and your pantyhose were discarded on the floor, still holding the vague shape of your legs, resembling a flattened rotisserie chicken.

He focused on your eyes again. Bloodshot, rimmed in red with a suggestion of water clinging to the outer corners where your eyelashes met, and sporting a hefty burden of bags beneath them.

“It’s Wednesday,” he reminded you, voice heavy in his chest, but sounding scratchy, and hollow. His throat was shot.

“Mm,” you hummed and glanced at the clock in the corner of your screen, “it’s Thursday, actually.”

White hot anger boiled in his veins, striking his skin like a leather lash. It simmered, popped, sizzled, boiled over. The yelling, the timers, the cacophonous clanging. The ticket machine, the keyboard, the stinging cut on his thumb. Smug fucking brat laying in his bed on his night to have it. It was sudden, it was stark, and it was hatred.

“Make a deal.”

“A deal?”

“A fucking deal,” he repeated. “You know, like we’ve been making?” He stopped himself short of calling you a dirty name, but you must’ve gathered it from his tongue’s hesitation, because you turned your head a few degrees to challenge his temper.

“Oh, lucky for you, there was a two-for-one deal at the store.”

You waved two middle fingers at him, showing a bit of teeth with your crooked grin.

The hatred festered, but not as vicious. The anger was there–oh, the anger was there–but the energy to keep this going hit its peak, and fizzled. There was no sense in reasoning with you. The pancakes in the fridge were for a different occasion, he couldn’t waste them on this, and he was too tired to come up with his own bet, deal, or favor. “Just think of something so we can get this over with,” he nearly begged.

After some consideration, you held your fist out for rock, paper, scissors.

“Where’s the option for a gun in my mouth?”

“Harsh,” you pouted. Instead, you pointed at the 20 sided die on the desk. He inclined his head, shaking it with a slow sort of intention, eyes wide to express his warning to knock it off, and give him a true answer, something to make this worthwhile.

Finding the whole ordeal dull, you returned your attention to your laptop, pressing the white earbud into your ear before unpausing the video.

It took seconds off his life, but you finally spoke again.

“How long were you in prison? Six years? Bet it’s been a while since you’ve seen one of these in the flesh.” Due to your satin cream blouse being unbuttoned at the neck, you dipped your thumb under the collar, and traced the vibrant temptation of your red bra strap in a long, deliberate stroke. You hooked the soft pad of your thumb under the luxury, and brought it out for his viewing pleasure. A moment later, you snapped it to your skin, and went back to typing, not once breaking concentration with your video.

Eddie’s fascination, however, was trained on the dainty crimson gift slipping under the shimmery cream, sliding against the soft slope of your shoulder.

Heat thrummed in his chest. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, sloshing his blood like viscous tidal waves, muting the clacky sound of your keyboard. Anger mixed with something more, something worse. It warmed his cheeks, and reignited the cold sweat prickling his back. It honed his curiosity, sinking every detail of the second tortoiseshell button on your blouse into his mind. Memorizing how the fabric around it went taut, and glinted honey at the height of your breath. Noticing how the bottom of your shirt was wrinkled and pulled slack, but still tucked into your pencil skirt. Remembering how the tight material hugged your thighs when you traipsed around the apartment. Although, the navy blue number was less defined now, fitting looser around your hips.

He didn’t know how long he was fixated by your clothing, until you sighed.

“Not enough for you?”

You asked it with forced casualness, he could tell. Your voice was too even, tone too polite, eyebrows too raised in mock indifference. You were introducing a line that had yet to be crossed. A door which, when opened, would give access to more possibilities than the usual bets, deals, and favors. An enticing offer, and he didn’t deny the nervous flutter of intrigue arousing his blood elsewhere.

But past the line was dangerous territory. Right? That’s where things got muddied, and feelings got involved.

Or maybe not. Because, above all else, he hated you, and you hated him.

This was a deal like any other.

“Maybe this’ll help,” you said, never breaking eyesight from the screen, its colors reflecting in your pupils.

You were the epitome of cool pinching the blouse between your fingers and slotting the buttons through the holes one after the other. Down, down, down to your navel, tugging either side of the shirt open, letting the elegant cream frame the aggressive scarlet.

Eddie was taken off guard.

The bra was more akin to lingerie than he expected. Its cups contained you like a poorly kept secret. Curves of red peonies covered your nipples–hard bud pressing against the center of the flower from the thrill of exploring a new end to your daily arguments. Your areolas peeked from between the petals, where the intricate lacework went see through, granting him a preview to the smooth flesh beneath.

Click clack, click clack, space bar, space bar, space bar, he swore you pressed your arms together to make your breasts rounder. Actually, he didn’t need to second guess. He saw the cusp of cleavage squish before his very eyes.

“Satisfied?” you inquired.

No, he ached.

The voice in his head was so automatic, so sure, he didn’t question it, either.

When he refused to verbalize the things which made him nauseous, his opulent pearl rolled onto her shoulder and lifted the laptop the pillow, turning over onto her stomach to engage with it solely, circling a manicured fingernail over the trackpad, and clicking.

To his surprise, the video on screen wasn’t of the vapid people you watched, but of a troubleshooting guide to the program your company was having you learn in order to teach it to the higher ups next week. (Or so he heard when you told Steve yesterday.) You tabbed out of the video, fixed a property in a column, checked the statistic it was evaluating, and added in an aesthetically pleasing green color before tabbing back.

He couldn’t parse how he felt about you having to do more thankless tasks off the clock, especially when you were clearly tired, but something else stole the last of his fiery anger, and doused his willpower to resist a glance.

Your habit of unzipping your skirt as soon as you walked into the apartment proved evident when you rolled over. The silky polyester lining slipped against your skin, shifting the long zipper from your hip to your backside. The halves parted, showing the end of the cream blouse, and a peek of skin. You adjusted how you laid, rocking your hips back and forth until you sank into the plush blankets, and propped your chin in your palm when you weren’t typing. Small movements working the skirt higher, and higher, bunching the fabric around the fat of your ass. Squirming, and stretching, tugging on your blouse, pulling, pulling, blouse, skirt, blouse, skirt, and then he saw it..

Red.

Delicate, feminine.

Tucked, hidden from anyone’s view but his, were the matching red panties to your bra. Trapped in a valley between thighs and ass, and stretching over the swell of your heat, embellishing the mouth watering desire in opaque lace strained firm against the outline of his treasure.

Eddie swallowed.

“Why’re you still in here?” you asked with a bite of annoyance. “You got to see a girl’s bra for the first time ever, probably. You should be celebrating, throwing yourself a party. In the living room. On the couch.”

The anger had returned like a slap of reality across his cheek. He narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, remembering why he loathed you with every fiber of his being. “I’ve seen a bra before.”

“Pictures don’t count.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

Your body jolted with a snort, and he flung open the door hard enough for it to bounce off the door stop. He heard your infuriating inhale, and slapped the lightswitch off, shutting the door behind him with excessive force before you could ask more demands of him. Gladly, he closed himself out of his own bedroom. The physical barrier under his trembling fist had never felt better, still gripping the knob as if he’d go back in there.

He wouldn’t.

He let go of the chilled metal and stalked down the hall, curbing himself from stomping out his frustration, only to throw himself onto the couch. Stomach burning with hunger, hatred. Chest heaving with rage. Pulse rising in his throat, beating against the ball chain necklace he wore. Breathing so hard, sounding as if he’d ran laps before collapsing onto his bed for the night, crossing his arms to squeeze his biceps, massaging his fingers down the muscle. Occupying himself. Distracting himself.

It wasn’t working.

He was mad.

Furious.

Draping his hand over his eyes, he gave himself a moment to make a decision, and pushed his bangs off his forehead. They stayed in their gravity defying position due to the oil. He needed to shower. He needed to clean himself of this day, and go to sleep. But he couldn’t.

The fever in his veins was too distracting. He needed to take care of it. Get rid of it.

Sitting up, he unfolded the comforter from the end of the couch, and propped the pillow against the armrest to angle his head slightly up, where he could see the hallway.

From his front pocket, he collected his phone and laid it on his stomach while he unbuttoned his pants, pinching the waistband together and pulling the zipper down, sighing through his nose at the relief of the lines he was crossing.

He grasped his phone and brought it close to his face. Cupped in one palm, and using the other hand to tap it twice. A streak of perspiration was left on the screen where he swiped in his passcode, using his index finger to open a private browser and type in a porn site. Any porn site. Whichever variation of the word porn + noun he thought of first. It didn’t matter much to him; that’s not where his preferences lie.

office worker

co-worker

secretary

office worker tight skirt

office worker pov skirt grinding

His brain went stupid for synonyms trying to narrow down his search. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew the ultra HD, professionally lit, fakey acting wasn’t it. He scrolled, and scrolled. Narrowed his search again. Ticked off boxes on the side. Tried broader genres. Went back to the results he was on, and traveled down the rabbit hole a few more pages until, at last, he found what suited him.

The thumbnail appeared promising. Dimly lit, sorta bad quality, and clearly shot at home with a woman whose body type wasn’t far off from what he was hoping for. He even appreciated the visual similarities in the amateur actress’ navy blue skirt, and off-white blouse. As long as he scrolled down a tad to crop out her face, it was perfect. Plus, it was easier to insert himself into the scene that way.

He clicked it, and– ”Jesus Christ,” he turned down the volume as quickly as he could, accidentally pressing down the two buttons on the side that took a screenshot and saved it to his gallery.

The video started a little further into the act than he anticipated.

Such a fucking idiot, Eddie, Jesus Christ. Sitting in thick silence, he waited to see if you’d heard, and once his face calmed of the embarrassed flush stinging his cheeks, he moved on.

Eddie worked his right hand under the comforter, but heeded his boxers as a layer of separation. At the first contact with the parts of him he denied aching for the bane of his existence, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. Gently, he raked his fingernails down the base of his shaft, and over his balls. He cupped them. Felt their heft. Cradled them and dragged them softly upwards, letting them fall and stretch before repeating the motion, enjoying the tickly sensation of being the first thing he touched. His most sensitive, most susceptible part of himself. Meanly ignoring the other part of him twitching, throbbing, begging to be catered to.

He kept some fraction of his brain alert to the hallway, senses sharpened by the spike of adrenaline, listening out for any sound of you exiting the room. But most of him was focused on hitting the play button, sticking to his decision that he couldn’t wait to do this in the shower. He needed it now.

It started with the woman already in motion. Shot from the guy’s point of view laying on the bed, his obvious hardon pressing through his slacks into her pussy grinding down on him. Her skirt lifted with each motion, showing her black underwear. Not that he was complaining they weren’t red, but he didn’t concentrate on them.

He switched from playing with his balls to gripping his cock. Finally. It buzzed with the rush of pleasure, harder than it had ever been, even in his youth. His fingers hardly met through his boxers, but he encircled them the best he could, and started with fast, desperate, stunted strokes, getting himself to where the guy in the video was in a matter of pent-up seconds, clenching his ass to buck his hips up. Heart pounding. Inhales shaky from the speed at which he took care of his problem, exhales interrupted by muted huffs.

Maybe he should be embarrassed, but it didn’t take him long to feel that encouragement to keep going, keep going, keep going. Where each frantic pump along his length was better than the last. Where each accidental graze of his fingers over the lipped edge of his tip sprinted towards his bliss.

In the video, the woman dipped a finger between her lips and moved her panties aside.

There was a low hum in the back of his throat, engrossed by the wet warmth opposed to his dry fist.

Metal knob turning–door creaking–carpet groaning, step, step, step–

It was a fucking miracle he managed to close out of the window in his panic. His thumb missed it the first two times as fear coated him in a cold sweat, and the phone fell out of his palm, smacking him in the chin as you rounded the corner.

You didn’t spare him the time of day as you walked into the kitchen and got a glass from the cabinet. Didn’t bother looking at him as you stood at the fridge with your hip cocked out, holding the cup under the outer dispenser and depressing the button for ice.

The fridge made a mechanical whirr, and filled your glass. Ker-chunk, ker-chunk, ker-chunk, the ice cubes tinked into the cup for the longest seconds of his life. His hand was frozen mid-tug on his dick, and you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else. Truly, it hardly covered your ass. It clung to your hips, brushed the height of your thighs, and suddenly, he was checking how obvious the bulk of the comforter was over his lap, and if it creased when he moved his hand upwards.

Nothing. Not a fold out of place. He could keep it up. Stroke, by stroke, brushing his fingers over the head only, testing his limits to keep discreet while you switched to the other spout on the fridge for water.

Even when you turned to him, he massaged himself over his boxers, soaking the sticky slick beads of precum into the fabric.

“What?”

Your tone didn’t deter him from tracing the underside of his swollen head, caressing the glans with the same sort of sentiment he experienced in the homemade porn between a real couple–all gentle and nice.

He mustered enough brain cells to respond, “What? I’m already sleeping on the couch. Can’t you leave me alone for one night? Or are you that desperate for attention?”

None the wiser, you took a sip from your glass, and folded your other arm across your stomach, making it obvious from the natural sway that you weren’t wearing a bra. Probably weren’t wearing panties either..

Swallowing the ice cold water with a satisfied ‘ah’, you went on your merry way. “Just came to gawk at the bridge troll, is all. Night night!” Your annoying farewell was followed by the creak of the door, and the faint click of it closing.

What a fucking irritating person.

The anger bristled again. Definitely anger. It was there, lurking, when he rubbed at the sore spot on his chin and picked up his phone, unlocking it to stare at the homescreen.

There was no patience within him to find the video. Besides, the sanitized professional thumbnails on the homepage were enough to have him dropping his phone to the cushion crevices beside him, surrendering himself to his imagination. Nothing lived up to the scenarios in his head, anyway.

Before getting ahead of himself, he slid his fingers beneath the elastic waistband, and gripped himself wholly. There was no sense in denying what he wanted: the raw desire of his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, not caring about creating a mess. It could be cleaned up later. He needed this. Now.

He immersed himself in the fantasy.

The visuals took place minutes ago, if he hadn’t backed down. It was based on you refusing to give him the bed, and instead of walking away from your bratty attitude, he lifted his chin, and broadened his chest with a confidence he didn’t possess. Fantasy Eddie had the courage to kneel on the mattress like he belonged there. Your body would dip, rock towards his imposing knees straddling either side of your calves, and in his strongest dreams, he acted out what should’ve happened.

If he had his way, he would begin with your hips. A single strong palm on the curve would have you hiking them up to greet him, and he was a gentleman. As soon as you presented him with the opportunity, he was scrambling to spread your legs so he could dip between them, eager to please. He wanted to know the sensation of coarse red lace scratching across his tongue; it would be a novelty only he would know. His hands would be on your upper thighs, bringing you closer, closer, to where his mouth awaited you. Persuading your face to the sheets. Putting a wicked arch in your back, granting him permission.

He’d angle his mouth to your clothed clit and collect spit to his bottom lip, parting, and lapping his tongue over the pretty thing, suckling it through the fabric. His nose would be to your cunt, inhaling the musky pheromones. Didn’t matter how long you’d been at work, proving yourself to people who would never appreciate you like he did. He cherished every bit of you so much. The heady scent intoxicated him like a drug, the dimples when he smashed the fat of your ass around his face, your silly whine when he pressed kisses up your pretty pussy. The anger was gone. Like that, he adored you. After all, you craved him. And it’d been a long time since he was wanted. It felt nice to not be rejected.

Eddie, Fantasy You gasped when the wet sound of him sucking your clit through your panties grew in fervor. He was drunk on you. Trying hard. Giving more. Licking at the dark patch he created. God, he loved it. He loved the evidence. He could suckle, moan, flatten his tongue like torture and just breathe on you until he fell asleep, waking up to nudge his teeth over the sensitive areas you presented to him. Spending hours getting you to your peak, over and over.

But in reality, he was approaching his end rather quickly.

My turn, sweetheart, he regretfully informed you.

Getting to his knees, he positioned himself behind you. His cock slotted so nicely against you; red lace meeting unzipped gray uniform pants, and he wasted no time stoking the flames from where he left off.

He clapped your cheeks around the hard outline of his cock. His black boxers stretched to their limits to contain him. There was a dark patch at the tip peeking out between your ass, growing with each slow, assertive grind he committed to, fucking himself into the curve of your cunt with ragged breaths. Losing himself. Mouth agape, and eyebrows pinched as his needy head was swallowed when he rocked his hips back, and reappeared with a rough thrust.

Again, it didn’t take long until he needed a break to make himself last longer.

He draped his weight over you as he slid his rough, calloused palms up the backs of your thighs, creating goosebumps along the sensitive flesh on his way to your sorry excuse for skirt. He bunched the pitiful thing to your waist, and reached for the hem of your shirt.

You hummed in approval, pressing against his lap.

It was hard to balance, but you supported him as he yanked your blouse up–sucking in a sharp breath when you moaned, and rutted yourself on his length–and he brushed his fingers along your soft skin in search for the bra clasp, and when he found it, he pulled the band tight. The latch gave. He caught sudden heft in his palm, cupping you and the bra together, massaging lightly until your nipple slotted between the base of two of his fingers, and he applied the gentlest pressure.

Oh fuck, you whined so nicely for him.

They’re extra sensitive after being caged all day, you explained.

Yeah? Does it feel good?

You nodded, cheek smashed against the wrinkled sheets.

He pinched harder.

Saliva gathered at the corner of your lips, spilling in a sticky string as you dragged your head in another nod, heavy-lidded eyes just visible through your lashes, open mouth panting for him.

True satisfaction spread like weightlessness from the pit of anger in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to be making you feel good, not the person ruining the one place he found peace after six years of paranoia, but here he was, wishing the taste of your pussy lasted longer in his mouth. Here he was, anchoring his forearm alongside yours, gripping the same sheet you gripped while he beared his weight down on you, and pressed kisses to your clothed shoulders.

His other hand was trapped between you and the bed, but each pulse around your nipple was another long stroke on his cock.

The scene had been set. The build up and story line were crafted. Now, he could play.

He worked kisses under your collar, tasting the sheen of sweat at your hairline, leaving trails of spit to cool as he lolled his head on top of yours, resting his forehead amongst your hair, and he put his lips to the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver beneath him.

Do you think you can treat me that way, and get away with it? Fantasy Him asked. Think you can boss me around whenever you want? He punctuated his question with a hard, unexpected thrust, earning a gasp from your pretty mouth.

Turn over. He didn’t command it verbally, but when he took away his hand to smack the side of your ass, and sat back, you were aware of his unstated switch in position.

You laid on your back, legs spread for him. Skirt bunched around your hips, blouse fallen open, except for the one button remaining. He grasped his cock, and stroked himself through his boxers for you. His brows were drawn together in a gentle question, gaze locked onto yours. This was supposed to be about him, but he still asked, Is this okay? Is this what you want?

The source of his anger, his rage, his frustration–all the blame, burdens, and negativity he attributed to a single woman–opened her arms to him, and nodded.

He passed over your pussy to praise kisses to your stomach. Deft fingers working to undo the last button on your blouse, and explore upwards. Wet smacks of his sloppy gifts arched your back the higher he traveled, molding his large hands to your body. Brushing his rough fingers to the junction of your inner thigh and hip, and spreading you open so your pussy swallowed the fabric, wedging the red lace tight to your clit for later. Up, up, his kisses covered you, until he nosed at the underwire of your bra, and lifted it out of the way.

Fuck, Eddie.

You pushed his hair out of his face. The shorter curls fell from the low bun at his nape, and you tucked them behind his ear so you could watch his tongue lap and swirl at your nipple. Your fluttery moans were heaven, as were your tits being shoved in his mouth. You squirmed for him, clamored for him. You wanted him, needed him. Did you care that his hair was greasy? Did you care that dried salt crystals from sweat scratched your fingers when you cradled his jaw? Did you care about his smell from thirteen hours of being in a hot kitchen when you cupped him under the armpits, encouraging him with a buck of your hips to get back to business?

He supposed not, since it was his fantasy.

But just like reality, you were trying to boss him around.

Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?

You could hardly meet his gaze, eyes so heavy with lust you couldn’t keep them open long enough to beg.

He aligned himself, nudging the tip of his cock to your clit, and he savored the experience of watching the bliss wash over you. It took him a beat to realize, but he moaned in response to your moan. Watching you react from where he picked up his head from your chest, memorizing the fake vision of your face losing the usual harsh distaste for him. Your lips were better this way–lush, and making an effort to sound out his name as he drew his hips back–not sneering because you had the displeasure of asking him a question.

Still, he drove forward with haste. Cotton on lace. Layers of separation. Anything else was too intimate for how he wanted to fuck you, rough and fast, caring only about himself and not about your poor neglected clit, swollen and pleading for his soft tongue, only to get rough, unmeasured thrusts. Messy, and unintentional, and denying. Until you made them work for you.

You used the meat of his shoulders as leverage. Digging your fingers in, holding tight as you rocked with him and raised your legs, wrapping them around his ass. The squeeze of your thighs, and pressure built from your locked ankles tipped you into a better position, and now, his entire length was flush to your clit, not simply passing over the top of it.

All of him was touching you, touching you, touching you. Trapping his cock between your stomachs, damp with reignited sweat. Back to rutting against one another at a desperate pace, chasing the tension, the high. The snap of his hips. Your stuttered groans for more. The anger, the hatred. Festering under the surface, bubbling in your insolence. Present in his teeth grazing your throat, nipping at the pulse, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting.

You’re gonna make me cum. Even Fantasy You said it in a lower register, reaching where the molten resentment laid dormant.

He found the same gravelly animosity and warned you, “I’m too close, I’m too close.”

You cradled him tighter, burying your heads in each other’s embrace. Muscles quivering from effort, burning with each grind, tensing under curious hands finding new places to cling to, curves to admire. Until they stayed put.

Nails bit flesh. Strong fingers dug painfully at bone. Mouths fell open. Eyes closed. Writhing flesh on fabric, and flesh, you trembled under him.

I’m–mm, Eddie–I’m cumming–

His thrusts faltered, jerking into short bursts, and his gracious moans went high and tight in his throat, spilling out as he panted, “You make me feel so good, baby. Fucked you so good. I can’t–I’m cumming–fuck–”

Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–

–”Fuck,” he babbled aloud.

The climax took him to the dark apartment. The overwhelming shadows of sleeping in the lonely living room on the flat couch under an extra blanket not yet broken of its factory starch, scratchy on the skin. His muscles were still tensed into him curling in on himself, lifting his aching neck and shoulders off the pillow for a few more pumps of his hand sliding over his slick shaft, spreading the warmth oozing towards his hip, no doubt tangling the curly thatch of hair above the base. In lip-biting silence, he stroked himself, not daring to breathe after he knew he said something out loud from his imagination. He listened. Eyes straining to see the hallway.

His bangs stuck to the heavy sweat on his forehead.

His entire body was heated beyond belief.

Anticipation sat heavy on his tongue.

But as he came down from his peak, nothing happened. He stayed lonely. His heartbeat pounded against the guitar pick sticking to his chest, and that was it. Now his head was cleared of distractions, and he could sleep. The fantasy was a fantasy, and in this reality, he wouldn’t do this again. It was too weird to muddy the multitude of negative feelings he had for you with.. whatever this was.

A release, that’s what this was.

Kicking the blanket off, he swung his legs to the side to sit up, socked feet softened by the plush carpet. He pressed his palm over the sticky substance dripping downward, and soaked it up to the best of his ability. And as his cum hit the fresh air, and his inhale was cut short as he smelled his shirt, he thought about the shower he needed. And he thought about the dark patch on his boxers. And he thought about his clothes in the dresser in the bedroom.

Looking down, he inspected his gray pants, and groaned.

They were ruined.

So, so ruined and obvious as to what he was doing.

There was no way he could go into there and grab new clothes for a shower. The thought of facing you after this, and you seeing him in this pathetic state–and God, if you knew it was because of you, and because he couldn’t control himself–he’d rather die than admit you did this to him.

Fuck.

Couldn’t even go to his own room for some fucking clothes so he could shower after working all day.

Yeah, that confirmed it. He fucking hated you.

Hated you even more when he thought about you sleeping on his mattress, wrapped snug in his bedsheets wearing only a t-shirt with nothing else to cover you, and his dick twitched again for that red lace he knew was discarded in the laundry basket.

“Fuck my life.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #linecook!eddie #roommate!eddie #ex-con!eddie

5K notes · View notes

alotofpockets · 30 days

Text

Meeting again | Part 1 - Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.

Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k

-----

You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?” Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.

“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him.

You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf.

The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen.

Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain.

When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”

“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”

When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.

You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.

You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.

Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?

The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.”

The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad.

You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son.

Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.

On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off.

As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team.

“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.”

Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other.

You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”

You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.

Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”

As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.

You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.

As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.

Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?

You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.

Continue reading part 2!

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #awfc #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #england lionesses #engwnt #engwnt imagine

753 notes · View notes

ilwonuu · 1 month

Text

𐦍༘?can i 𐦍༘⋆

↬ choi seungcheol

𓇣 pairing- nonidol!cheol x fem reader, dom!seungcheol x sub!reader, bestfriend!cheol x fem reader, friends to lovers<3

𓇣 summary- your best friend calls you late at night for something other than a innocent hangout.

𓇣 warnings- dumb confessing love to each other, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, cum swallowing, kissing, MDNI, lmk what else

𓇣 a/n- this is just a random fic that u wrote a long time ago.. i liked it enough to post so lmk what you think!! should i write a part two? ALSO IM BACK FROM LITERALLY NOT POSTING FOR DAYS!!!! im posting a lot of fics today<3 luv u guys 😡

tossing and turning in your bed has gotten you wide awake. you’ve been trying to fall asleep for the past hour. it now being 1:30am as glance at your clock.

you sigh closing your eyes again before you start to get a call. you groan reaching for your phone. seeing it’s seungcheol you make a confused expression, pressung answer.

“cheol? it’s so late what’s up?” you question and he just sighs. “okay- um this is gonna sound crazy but can i pick you up? i’ve been thinking you all night.” he confesses. his voice sounding tense but lust filled.

“thinking about me? what do you mean?” you are beyond confused now, wanting him to explain it. of course cheol has said something like this to you before, but this time it feels different.

“just let me come get you and i’ll explain then. can i?” he asks. you don’t even know why but your mouth is immediately saying that you would love for him to pick you up.

you having no control when it comes to cheol. you sigh again as you force yourself out of the warmth of your bed to grab some pants to throw on.

quickly changing as you know cheol, how fast he would get to your house. speaking of, your phone lights up with a text from the boy telling you he’s outside. you slip on your slippers and head out of your house into his car.

“well good morning to you.” you say sarcastically as you get into the passenger seat. “can i just drive and explain? it’s kind of a lot to take in.” he starts to drive to your guys usual spot to watch the sunset. you couldn’t do that now obviously…

“so.. were you asleep when i called?” “no unfortunately i haven’t been sleeping very well and these were one of the completely sleepless nights.” he sighs not taking his eyes of the road.

“i’m sorry i hope you can sleep better tomorrow.” he says looking at you for a moment to give you a soft smile before finally arriving at your spot.

“are you gonna tell me why you wanted to pick me up at 2 in the morning?” you turn your gaze to him and he just nods. “don’t freak out okay-“ he cuts himself off.

“y/n- i’m in love with you. and everyday i’m more and more in love with you. i couldn’t get confessing to you off my mind. i wanted you to know in person.” he says looking at you for a reaction, response, anything.

“cheol i-“ he sighs thinking he already knows what you’re gonna say. “i know you don’t feel the same. i had a feeling you didn’t but i just need to tell you okay? it was killing me and i just don’t want anything to be weird now-“ you stop his words with your finger.

“cheol shut up. i’m in love with you too.” you confess as well catching him completely off guard. “wait are you serious? don’t mess with me that’s not funn-“ you cut him with a kiss against his lips.

“you believe me now?” he nods pulling you to kiss him again. “you don’t know how bad i wanted to do that.” he admits with a deep sigh.

“cheol-you know-i- me too.” his hands intertwined with yours. you feel so safe with him. you want nothing more than to be his. you want him to be yours.

“y/n i- please let me kiss you again.” and that’s how you ended up here. on your knees in the backseat next to your best friend, reaching for his dick as he fucks his fingers into you.

“cheol-“ he smirks down at you. “feel good baby? keep going.” you nod at his words finally pulling his dick out of his pants. shocked at the size of course. you have never been with anyone with a dick this big- nearly coming on his fingers.

“go ahead, let me see you baby.” he’s looking down at you with intimidating eyes. you give his dick a couple strokes causing him to hiss but mindlessly ruts his hips up with your hand.

you kitten lick the tip of his dick not breaking eye contact with him. a load groan erupting from him. his fingers are starting to fuck into you faster. your moans against him making him crazy.

“fuck just like- that. feels so fucking good.” his hips moving with your mouth as you fuck yourself back onto his fingers.

“look at you. o-oh fuck” your mouth speeding up on his cock. his fingers curling inside of you causing you to moan. you gag on his dick as his hips start to meet your mouth.

you cum on his fingers hard as you feel him start to fuck your mouth. he fucks his fingers into slowly before pulling them out to bring them up to his mouth.

he hums before groaning when he sees you looking up at him. he pulls his fingers out his mouth, his hand inching to your ass rather quickly.

“i’m gonna- fuck i’m coming. you’re so beautiful.” his cum shooting deep into your mouth as his hips fuck up with his groans.

you keep eye contact with him as you swallow. he groans trying not to fuck your mouth again. you sit up to kiss him.

“you’re so pretty.” he gives you a big smile as the two of you get dressed. you blush and look away from him. “want to come to my house?” he smiles at you.

541 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 8 months

Note

the scowl nanami had in the trailer reminded me of the safeword audio, it’s definitely his reaction when finds out you’ve been touching yourself without his permission 😩

Anon, you are SO RIGHT, and for that, I wrote a little something. In case anyone is curious, THIS is the audio anon is referring to (reddit link, 18+). It is SO GOOD. It actually gets so tender and sweet at the end, but I did not recreate that for this little piece LOL. Anyways, ily anon for your brilliant brain. I love the idea of getting caught in the act, I am SO here for it. Also, I’m going feral over mean!Nanami. This is barely edited or proofread. This is a result of my carnal desires for him taking over my fingers without a care in the world. I’m throwing feminism out the window temporarily for this, sorry ancestors. MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune.

You’re well into your third climax of the night, the vibrator buzzing on the lowest setting on your swollen clit, the exquisite sensations resonating down to the tips of your toes. You’re so sensitive now, basically mush puddled in the sheets, skin damp with sweat, arousal smeared over your loins. There’s nothing playing in the background; no porn, no nsfw audios, not even a dirty picture displayed on your phone screen. All that you have to get you off is the memory of Nanami railing you into the mattress, the same one you’re currently drenched in your slick, pumping his cock in and out of your wet cunt. That’s all you need to get your pussy throbbing, skin prickling, belly fluttering.

He's not home yet, still out on a mission with Gojo, doing what he does best: protecting people. Is it unfair that he has to work this hard, risking his life, while you’re twisting in the bedsheets, squirming with pleasure from a handheld toy? Maybe not. But what’s the harm in a little mindless release? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

Your eyes are shut tight as you descend from your high, vibrator shut off and teetering loosely in your hand, satiated and spent from tonight’s activities. You could fall asleep this instant, but there’s so much to clean up, all the evidence of your naughty deed that you don’t want your husband to discover without explanation. As you’re about to rise up out of bed, you hear the familiar jangle of keys unlocking the front door. Startled, and still a slippery mess, you quickly wipe off the toy, shoving it beneath the pillow. It’s not quick enough because just as you look up, Nanami is already standing at the doorframe of your bedroom, scowling.

Like a bit from a comedy movie, you twiddle your fingers innocently, completely naked and exposed on the bed. “Hi honey,” you greet, slowly pulling the covers over your body. You smile at him, acting like he hasn’t already caught you in the act. He doesn’t respond, expression serious. Dangerous.

Heat rushes into your cheeks, increasingly nervous by his lack of reaction. “Kento, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, sauntering towards you. “You tell me,” he mutters, sitting at the edge of the bed, studying you carefully.

You swallow loudly, mouth coated in your saliva. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh?” It sounds like he’s teasing you. Toying with you. You shudder with anticipation as he reaches over, hand slipping under the pillow, retrieving your vibrator. He waves it at you. “What’s this, then?”

Another noisy gulp before you answer, “My vibrator.”

His eyes narrow, his free hand tugging the blanket off you slowly, inspecting your body from your face, chest, then between your legs, squeezed together, hiding your arousal. “What were you doing while I was away?” he asks, resting his hands on your knees, spreading you apart. “Were you being a bad girl?”

There’s no need for a verbal answer, because as soon as his eyes fixate on your aching pussy, he already knows. “So, you have been a bad girl. Look at you, all wet and swollen already.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly as you hide your embarrassed face behind your hand, barely peeking at him between your fingers. “You didn’t even have the decency to clean up.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, limbs trembling, yearning for him to touch you.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” he repeats, mocking you. “You fuck yourself while I’m working and all you can say is sorry?”

“I – ”, you choke on your own spit, rendering you speechless.

“It seems that you forgot, so let me remind you one last time: This is my pussy. Not yours. Mine. You don’t get to play with it without my permission.” He sighs, hands sliding languidly down your thighs, prodding at the tender skin. “Such a dirty girl. What am I going to do with you?”

You moan, longing to feel his fingers, his cock, anything inside you. “Baby, please.”

He licks his lips, hungry eyes focused on your sopping cunt. “I guess it’s my job to clean up this mess.” He leans forward, tongue lapping at your sensitive bud, swirling circles around it, puckering his lips to suck. “Such a slutty pussy. So sloppy and wet for me.”

You squirm above him, pleasure stimulating your every nerve. “Fuck!” you cry out, lost in the ecstasy.

His low chuckle vibrates against your clit, pinched between his lips. “How many times did you come from this toy? Once? Twice?”

You grip his hair between your fingers, shoving his face deeper. “Three times!” you stutter.

“And you’re still so fucking horny for me, huh?” He slides his tongue up and down your folds, collecting your slick on his tongue, drinking you up. “I’m going to have to do better than that toy then for you to learn your lesson.”

The need to be used and manhandled by him overtakes you. It doesn’t matter how much you touched yourself earlier. All you can think about is how much you need to be touched by him. How badly you need his cock inside you. How insanely desperate you are for his cum to fill you up.

So you take it. Every lick, every suck, his fingers inside you, curled and hitting that sweet spot that only he can reach. His cock bullying you into submission, body weak and pliant from overstimulation, yielding to his every thrust like his own personal cock sleeve. All the while, he moans into your ear, constantly muttering the same reminder to you.

“This is my pussy. All fucking mine.”

#and with that I bid you all a goodnight and a good weekend! LOL #nanami smut #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader

1K notes · View notes

buckybabesonly · 1 year

Text

Dirty Little Secret

Summary: You believe Bucky doesn’t even remember your name, not knowing he moans it to himself at night.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Masturbation (male)

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Wrote this on my phone lol sorry for any potential errors. Just wanted to get a little smutty post out there. Also - thanks for nearly 400 followers in just over one week of starting this blog! I’m so happy 🥲 Enjoy!

“Hey. Are you listening?”

A pair of fingers snapped in front of your eyes, breaking you out of your reverie. You blinked in embarrassment as Natasha scowled at you playfully.

“Seriously though, did you listen to anything I just said?”

“No,” you confessed sheepishly.

Her eyes followed your line of sight, landing on a certain Bucky Barnes.

“Ah. You started writing ‘Mrs Bucky Barnes’ across your notepads yet?”

You blushed, heat rising to your cheeks. Were you that obvious? You supposed that one would have to be blind not to notice the goo-goo eyes you gave Bucky all the time whenever he was in the vicinity.

He had arrived at the compound just a few months ago, settling in to his new reformed life away from his history as the Winter Soldier. Steve did his best to help him adjust, and from what you could tell, he was fairly quiet and kept to himself.

“He’s kind of exactly my type,” you confessed to Natasha quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“I see. You like a guy with a high body count, huh.”

“Nat!” You exclaimed, slapping her arm as she snickered at the double entendre. “Not funny.”

“Hey, he gave me this.” Natasha yanked up her top, showing off her scar just above the hipbone. “I’m allowed to be mean to him.”

You grumbled in response as Natasha leant closer, cocking an eyebrow. “Anyway, as I was saying, I really need you to help me run some analysis on this equipment we picked up from…”

You shuffled through the compound hallways, a stack of files in your arms. You rounded a corner sharply, almost colliding with a tall, dark figure who sidestepped you neatly.

“Jesus Christ!” Though a collision had been avoided, you squawked in shock nonetheless, promptly dropping the files onto the floor.

“Ah, shit. Sorry,” Bucky said, quickly kneeling down to collect them.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you floundered, cheeks flushing red. He straightened up and stacked the files on your arms neatly, his long fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. His eyes met yours as he offered you a half smile, the corners of his lips quirking up.

His irises were a gorgeous, gray blue, and you silently noted that you had never been stood so close to him before. He smelt so good, and he looked even better in his tight tactical gear.

“Thank you,” you stuttered, wanting to kick yourself at how ruffled you sounded. The effect this man had on you was unfair.

“You’re welcome…” he paused deliberately, and you offered your name to him eagerly. He repeated it, and you loved the way the syllables sounded on his tongue.

“See you around,” he said casually before he strode off again, leaving you a flustered mess in the hallway.

Okay, at least step one was accomplished - he finally knew your name, even if he might not remember it.

You sighed, knowing your little schoolgirl crush was going to be the death of you.

Bucky lay in bed that night, as he did most nights since coming to the compound, with his hands down his pants.

He liked to start off slow, usually. On the odd occasion, he would want it fast, his hands working overtime on his cock as he showered, water streaming over his body as he pumped himself to completion. He would cum hard each time, bracing himself against the shower tiles, your name on his lips.

But usually he liked to take his time. Enjoyed painting a picture in his mind, a mental porno in which you were the star.

God, you had been so fucking cute today. Bucky loved watching you squirm, seeing you blush, practically see the blood rushing to your cheeks.

He had playfully orchestrated the encounter in the hallway, able to smell your subtle perfume with his elevated senses (it had the smell of vanilla and sakura blossoms) as you power walked through the compound.

He was delighted when you practically unravelled in front of him just from a simple stare and a sweep of his fingers. He wondered what you would be like if he ever got you in front of him, naked, ready to take his cock.

His hand palmed his semi-hard erection as he settled back against the pillows, eyes closed. He teased himself, fingers gently tapping his dick, pulling slightly at his balls.

Your face was fixed in his mind. He recalled your wide, shocked eyes, your mouth open in a small ‘O’ as you gasped.

He imagined that mouth stretching wider, tongue lolling out, asking to suck his cock. You would be on your knees as he stood over you, feeding his dick into your warm cavern, and you would take as much as you could like a good girl. So eager to please.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky hissed, pulling down the hem of his sweatpants and freeing himself completely.

His cock was heavy and thick as it lay against his stomach, twitching slightly as his mind filled itself with the most lewd images of you.

Of course he knew your name. He had asked Steve for it after the first few times he’d spotted you, playing it off as a casual inquiry.

He moaned it now as he dragged drops of his pre-cum down his shaft, wishing it was your hands that was wrapped around his length.

Somehow he found it thrilling, the idea of you believing that he had no clue who you were. He wondered what your reaction would be if you could see him now, rendered a horny, sweaty mess as he masturbated to thoughts of you and only you.

He imagined you spread out in front of him, legs wide, panting and begging for him to fuck your tight pussy. He would slap the head of his cock against your entrance, dragging it against your wet folds, teasing.

In reality, he knew that if he ever found himself in that position, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Hell, he’d be the one begging you to let him fuck you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Bucky grunted, his hand beginning to move at a steady tempo. If he went too fast, he would definitely cum within seconds, and he wanted to make this last.

He imagined being able to fondle your soft breasts, imagined being able use his mouth on your nipples, wanting to suckle on your tits. He imagined being allowed to kiss every inch of your body, from your toes, up the inner thighs, through the valley of your breasts and to your lips.

He would kiss you with passion and fire, tongue searching yours, wet and hot and needy. He would cup his hand behind your neck, fuck into you slowly and make you moan his name into his mouth.

He tried to imagine how that would sound like, high pitched and breathy.

“Beg for me,” Bucky said aloud, his hand moving up and down his cock as he fantasised about it moving in and out of your cunt instead. “God, beg me to cum inside you.”

He bet your soaking pussy would feel ten times better than jerking off alone in his room, but for now, this was the best he could get. He imagined rutting into you, hard, watching you shake under him as you became undone.

“You gonna let me cum inside you, princess?” He groaned, feeling himself reach the edge. He could see you in his mind, touching your own clit, pleasuring yourself as Bucky’s fat cock disappeared inside you over and over and over again.

You would beg for him to breed you, to fill you up, that sweet mouth speaking the filthiest words.

“Ah - ah fuck, I’ll give it to you, you’re taking it all like a good girl,” Bucky gasped, his hand clenching around his thick, veiny cock before he released all the pent up sexual frustration inside.

Creamy, hot ropes of cum spurted out, onto his stomach. He steadily stroked himself through the high, imagining you crying out as you orgasmed, imagining you being filled up with his seed.

He envisioned how it would look as he continued to thrust, you letting yourself be used, whimpering at the over stimulation.

Bucky was breathing rapidly, body finally going lax as his sticky hand released his softening cock. His heart was beating rapidly as he licked his lips, sighing longingly.

One day, he thought, almost a prayer, one day I’ll get to see what you look like when you cum.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

#bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #Bucky smut #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fic #Bucky x you smut #Bucky x you PWP

4K notes · View notes

chelseypprimrose · 11 months

Text

The Boy’s a Liar / bfd!Negan x Reader / no-apocalypse AU 🧟

Warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, boyfriendsdad!negan, oral (female receiving) use of belt, squirting, swearing, use of degrading names, general Negan ness, voyerism, unprotected sex, reader is a little evil to her boyfriend : NOT PROOFREAD YET

Summary: Reader finds out her boyfriend cheated on her via a Snapchat story, she takes sweet revenge with her boyfriend’s hot as fuck dad.

A/N: I’ve never wrote for breeding kink before so please be kind lol 🤍 I had a lot of fun with this one!

“Fucking waste of my damn time.” You cursed yourself, boys are so stupid. You couldn’t stop watching the Snapchat story of your boyfriend’s best friend, your boyfriend so obviously kissing a woman that wasn’t you. Not a care in the world, disrespecting you and the values you held in a loyal relationship. You didn’t know it this was a common occurrence that you just hadn’t noticed or a drunken one off. Not that it mattered, it was still a betrayal of your trust.

Eyes glossy with tears, you were driving towards your boyfriend’s house that he shared with his father, Negan. You didn’t even have a speech prepared, what you were going to say, if this was the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, your mind was running at a mile a minute.

Pulling into the driveway, you turned off the engine and put your car keys into your handbag, getting out and walking with purpose to the front door, your heels slamming on the concrete floor. You knocked on the door loudly, no answer. You knocked again, your hand shaking with annoyance.

The door finally opened but it wasn’t your boyfriend who stood before you, it was Negan.

“Hey doll, what you doing here so early? I was just making breakfast if you wanted any?” He offered before he took a proper look at your face, noticing the black tears of mascara that ran softly down your face.

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up morals you’ve taught your son, Negan, but I thought you were a better man. Obviously I was wrong.” You said with spite, you were letting your feelings be known to anyone who would listen. It was just unfortunate that it was the wrong person to direct your anger towards.

Technically, Negan hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was guilty by association in your current messed up state. You just needed to vent at someone, and Negan was the closest person to your boyfriend.

“Woah, doll? What’s wrong, what’s he done?” Negan moved aside so you could come in, walking towards the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon and egg filling your nostrils. You placed your handbag on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, your hand playing with your necklace.

“He went out last night and he kissed a girl, I saw it on his friend’s Snapchat.” You managed to get out through a small sob, your eyes filling up with tears again. You couldn’t believe you were crying like this in front of his dad, you felt embarrassed.

“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry dollface, I didn’t raise the kid to do shit like that, we are loyal to our women.” Negan sighed, his hand running through his salt and pepper beard, trying to find the words to make the pain in your heart go away. His eyes watched you as you grabbed a tissue from the box placed on the dining table, using your front phone camera as a mirror to wipe your tears away.

“You know what though, it might be a blessing in disguise.” Your head whipped around to give him a look of disbelief, in what world could this be a blessing? “What the fuck do you mean, my boyfriend cheated on me? How could that even remotely be a blessing?!” Feeling your anger building up again, Negan walked around to your side of the counter, towering over you, his head coming down to whisper in your ear. “Oh please, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me, remember that party a couple months ago, goddamn doll, you couldn’t take your eyes off my dick in them swim shorts.” He gave a small laugh, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes watching your chest raise with each breath you took. “You need a real man to take care of you, I heard you with him. I’m experienced enough to know when a woman is faking it to spare a man’s feelings.” Your eyes met with his, how on earth could he tell. You couldn’t even deny it, while your boyfriend was good enough, he was too soft with you, complaining when you’d asked him to just choke you a little bit. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt you, he’d said, your eyes rolling in annoyance.

“How the fuck do you know that?” You asked, his cologne hitting you in the face as he got ever so closer to you. “Like I said doll, I know women. You want to be played with don’t you? You want someone who knows how to please you properly, give into it doll. I could give you all the pleasure you’d ever need.” You let out a soft moan, knowing this was wrong but your petty nature taking over, not only was this such an evil way to get back at him, you longed for Negan. He was right on the nose with how you looked at him, you’d always found him attractive, just trying to stop yourself from jumping his bones whenever the two of you were around each other.

“Fuck it, I’ve always wanted to know what your cock feels like, deep inside me.” You whispered out, your hands wrapping around Negan’s neck as he captured your lips in a kiss. His hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing the round globes hard.

He lifted you up, walking towards the stairs. “I’m going to have you begging for mercy when I’m finished with you doll.”

It was almost animalistic, months of repressed attraction coming to a conclusion. You’d never have even thought about your late night fantasies coming true, until this very moment that they had. Negan kicked the door to his bedroom open, not bothering to close it behind him. Placing you on the bed, his hands grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt to pull it over his head revealing his toned torso and arms, his tattoo that you loved so much coming into view.

Your hands started to feel up on his chest, wanting skin to skin contact with him so desperately. You tried to sit up a little to take your tank top off but Negan stopped you in your tracks, slamming your arms down above your own head. “Don’t you fucking dare doll, that’s my job.” A dark look coming across his face, he ripped the tank top off you hastily. His eyes glued to your bare chest, you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on today, in a sleepy haze just wanting to get over here to question your boyfriend. “Such beautiful breasts doll, he’s going to regret giving you up.” Negan stated as he took one of your erect nipples into his mouth, a soft bite as he did. You moaned out, watching his every move, his eyes locked to yours.

Leaning up, Negan unbuckled your belt sliding it out of your jean loops, grabbing your hands, wrapping the belt around your wrists as your hands were placed back above your head. The leather tight and digging into your skin, only turning you on more, heat rushing to your pussy. Negan took the time to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down your legs revealing your small black thong that left little to the imagination, pulling them to the side, Negan licked a strip starting from your opening to the top, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your boyfriend never took the time to ever focus on your pleasure, either because he couldn’t be bothered or he just didn’t care, you didn’t know.

You felt the extra wetness as Negan spat right on your pussy, bringing his fingers to slowly enter you. Starting at a slow, agonising pace he could feel your body relaxing as you let your body give in to the pleasure you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to grip onto his hair, but your bound hands didn’t allow it. As he felt you relax, he quickened his pace up, moans leaving your lips loud and clear. “Such beautiful noises for me slut, and I know these are real.” You felt your core tightening as you kept building up wave after wave of pleasure, you’d never even realised you could get so close to orgasm so fast, Negan caught on to this and took his fingers out of you, dripping in your juices. He forced his fingers into your mouth, you sucking the wetness off like it was your last meal.

“You fucking dirty girl, you like the way you taste?” He asked, his fingers still in your mouth as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his boxers to you. “Yes, I love it so much. I need to fill me up Negan, ruin me please.” You managed to get out through heavy breathing and his fingers. He chuckled, manoeuvring your body so you were on all fours, facing the mirrored closet doors, next to the entrance of the bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb baby girl, you’ll forget your own name when I’m done with you. Going to get you drunk on my cock. You won’t even want another man to touch you.” You whimpered, seeing Negan pulling his large cock out of his boxer shorts, them falling to the ground. His tip was red, leaking with precum, standing erect. He looked like a Greek god, his posture so manly and authoritative. He lined up at your opening and wasted no time, starting at a hard and fast pace. “Oh my god, Negan yes! Fuck!” Your nails dug into your own hands, the leather of the belt still digging into you causing pain but you didn’t care, the feeling was too good to complain. Your toes curled with pleasure in your heels, Negan’s hands gripped on your hips like he was holding on for dear life. “Shit doll, you feel so fucking good, so tight for Daddy.” You eyes widened at the nickname, you’d always wanted to experiment with a daddy kink but he’d never allow it, said it made him feel weird. You couldn’t believe how much this man was filling your darkest fantasies, you felt like maybe your boyfriend cheating was a blessing in disguise after all. Negan’s hand came down to slap your ass, the motion leaving a good red mark on your cheek. You looked towards the large mirrors in front of you, seeing Negan’s body go through the motions, his hips bucking against your ass as he fucked you deep. “Yes daddy, I’m so tight for you, you feel so good inside me.”

Neither you or Negan heard the front door open, your boyfriend finally getting back from his night out, guilt filling him up as he remembered what had happened last night. He knew that what he did was wrong, that kissing that woman was wrong. Still tired and hungover, he at first thought his imagination was playing tricks on him when he heard moaning coming from upstairs, he didn’t think his dad was dating anyone, a look of confusion coming onto his face. He made his way up the stairs, looking through the open gaps of the banister, his features wrinkling in disgust and disbelief when he saw you, head thrown back in pleasure as you met Negan’s thrusts in a timed motion. He rushed up the whole flight of stairs until he got to the door.

“What the fuck is happening here?!” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, your eyes opening with a gasp, you thought Negan would stop, embarrassed that the two of you had been caught in such a way but he went even faster in and out of you, your hands trying to grab some of the blanket that was at the end of the bed, failing miserably due to the fact of your hands being bound together.

“Hey son, just treating your girl to a proper fuck, you were stupid as fuck to let this one go, she’s one dirty fucking girl! Maybe this will teach you not to go round sticking your dick in other women when you’ve got an absolute diamond at home. Now stand there and watch boy.” Negan laughed, your eyes meeting with your boyfriend, you couldn’t help with the moan that escaped your lips as Negan moved down to grab your chin, his head coming to the side of your ear. “Tell him doll, tell him how good daddy’s fucking you.” You smirked, looking out the corner of your eyes to look at Negan. “So fucking good daddy, filling me up, better than he ever could. Please keep fucking me like this daddy.” You whimpered, your lips meeting with Negan as he kept his eyes open, staring at his son.

Your boyfriend didn’t know what to do, he rushed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him as he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“That was so fucking dirty doll, oh my goodness! I can feel you getting close girl, let yourself cum all over my cock. I want to finish inside you, fill your body with my baby.” You screamed out as your orgasm took over your body, black spots coming into your vision. Your pussy felt like it had a death grip on Negan’s cock, his thrusts coming to slower pace as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Pull out of me, I want to ride you daddy.” Negan didn’t need any more encouragement as he pulled out of you, lying down on his back as you dug your heels into the mattress, sat on top of him. “Be careful with those things, don’t want a hole in my mattress dollface. You look fucking good in them though, sexy as fuck.” He said, as he shoved his cock into your dripping hole. You bounced up and down, even with your orgasm taking energy out of you, you couldn’t stop, you needed Negan like a hardcore drug. His musk mixing with a light sheen of sweat over your bodies. Negan’s hands gripped your ass as he directed your body as you grind into his hips, your second orgasm building up in your core. His cock filling you up, “That’s it baby, bounce on daddy’s cock for me, I want to see my seed dripping out of you.” You quickened your pace, feeling Negan’s cock twitching in you. “That’s it daddy, fill me up with your seed, I want you to fill my pussy up daddy!” You screamed out, uncaring about neighbours being able to hear you, you were too cock-drunk to care. Negan growled, his seed spurting out in you, his hands gripped your hips like a vice, his breathing heavy. You came to your end as well, gushing all over his cock, wetting the bed below you and Negan’s stomach as you squirted for the first time ever in your life. You moaned louder than ever, falling to the side of Negan, his flaccid cock sitting on top of his torso. You both were spent, the only thing that could be heard in the room was heavy breathing. Negan got up slowly from the bed, he released you from the belt, your wrists red and sore. He grabbed a small towel from the on-suite bathroom, cleaning you up from your squirt wetness. He laid back next to you, his arm coming over you to pull you closer, a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Life is never going to be the same again after this doll. Shit, I know it’s wrong to ask but leave him, I’ll treat you better than that stupid boy.” You looked at him, a smile coming across your face. “Negan, you could ask me to do anything right now and I’d say yes, that was the best fuck of my life, Daddy.”

Negan laughed and slapped your ass as he caught you in another sensual kiss.

2K notes · View notes

whatsk-poppinhomies · 6 months

Text

Pairing : Dad!Seo Changbin x F!Reader TW : children ; reader is pregnant but it's not really important in this ; Changbin being an absolute sweetheart ; it's still fluffy ; Word Count : 1.4k Request : nope!

His cellphone vibrated against the desk as he worked with Chan on a new song for the upcoming album, your cute, yet slightly cringy contact name in bold at the top of the screen. “Answer it, it might be important.” Chan said when he was Changbins hand twitching towards the device.

With Chans affirmation, he quickly answered the call and slipped out of the little studio, standing in the hallway trying not to panic. It was unlike you to call when he was working, not unless it was an emergency. “Hey sweetie, everything okay?” He said, his voice laced with a slight panic.

There was reason for his panic, although you thought it was quite silly, but with his son being in kindergarten and you being close to your due date with his daughter, he was always on edge when he was away from home, even if he was only a couple blocks away at the studio. “Everything is fine. I just got a call from the school though…”

A call from the school is never good, but your voice sounded all too calm for it to be an actual emergency, at least medically. “Well what’s wrong? Is he in trouble?” It was the immediate next thought that he had, but he couldn’t imagine what Changmin could have done to get in such a situation. His son was perfect, a sweetheart just like him and kind to everyone. There was no way in hell he could have done anything wrong.

“No, he isn’t in trouble at all. I actually think he deserves a whole day out with you, treats and maybe a little gift.” You said, a hint of sass seasoning your words just enough for Changbin to slightly understand that he was the one who had done something wrong. The only problem was that he couldn’t quite think of what that could be.

“Did… something happen? Am I missing something?” Changbin said, a little more quiet now as he tried to think hard on what it was that he possibly could have done. He made sure to pack Changmins lunch and give him his goodbye hug and kiss when he dropped him off at school that morning. He couldn’t possibly be missing anything else.

You sighed loudly, another sign that he was the one who had messed up. Luckily, you weren’t the type of wife that beat around the bush for long and you got straight to the point, although in this case, it made Changbin feel worse. “It was parent day up at the school. Everyone brought in their fathers, and MinMin was so excited for you to come up there. He told his friends all about you, how you’re a famous rapper and everything and… you forgot about him. He was crying, that’s why the school called. I had to talk to him for an hour to try to console him and tell him you didn’t forget.”

Parent day… right… how could he have forgotten? He promised Changmin that morning that he’d be there. “Shit… baby I’m so sorry… Is he okay? Fuck. I’ll be right up there, I promise. I’ll take him out for ice cream after school and I’ll get him that new toy he was asking for.” He was already in the process of grabbing his things, holding his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he wrote a little note to Chan letting him know he had to go up to the school. “I’m on my way up now. I’m so so sorry. Am I a bad father?”

The sigh that escaped you was much softer now through the phone as he ran to his car, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. “No, Binnie. You’ve just got a lot going on. Don’t drive too fast, I’ll call the school and let them know you’re coming so they can tell MinMin.”

That night, Changbin sat on the edge of Changmins bed, watching as his son clinged onto the new stuffed animal that Changbin had bought for him after school, his sons eyes drooping lower and lower, but never closing completely. “You didn’t have to come…” The boy said, his fingers brushing through the still soft fur of the stuffed lion.

“Yes I did, I made a promise.” Changbin explained, grabbing the tail of the toy and waving it back and forth. “I can’t break a promise, not unless I really can’t do it.” He continued, letting out a yawn and silently hoping that his son would mimic the motion and drift off to sleep.

“But what if… I made a promise to my friends that I could do like… a bajillion push uppies like you do on the bar… But I can’t do it?” His son's wide boba like eyes looked up at him finally and Changbin was conflicted on whether he should laugh or feel bad for his boy who made such a silly promise. Having children was a journey that never failed to astound him and humor him every single day.

“Well… I can’t do a bajillion push uppies either, not all at the same time though.” Changbin laughed softly, the sound coming through his nose. “That was a silly promise to make though, why would you promise that?” He inquired, grabbing his son's hand and tapping along his fingers.

“They say that if you are my real dad, that I should be strong like you…” The reasoning was more upsetting than Changbin expected, and without a word, he scooped his son up onto his lap and squeezed him into the tightest hug he could muster. “Shouldn’t I be strong though…? Just like you?” Changmin asked once Changbins arms slightly loosened, leaning back to tilt his head up to look at his father questioningly.

“It took me a really long time to get this strong… If you were as strong as me already… I’d actually be a little worried.” Changbin tried to joke lightly, although his mind was still reeling, wondering whether he should be upset or pissed off that children at the school were questioning whether he was MinMins real father. “But you know what makes you extra strong?” He quizzed, and Changmins eyes widened with wonder, waiting for Changbin to give him the answer. “Getting a lot of good sleep. That’s how you build strong bones and strong muscles… and an even stronger mind.”

He sat with his son a little longer, rubbing his back and singing softly to him until he was sure that the boy was in a deep sleep before tiptoeing out of the bedroom, making sure not to step on any of the creaky floorboards on the way to the door. “You’re the best dad, you know that, right?” You whispered from just outside the door, your voice coming through the dark causing him to jump and you brought your hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter.

“It’s not funny… those kids don’t think I’m his dad… Why?” Changbin sulked over to the couch and you padded quietly along behind him, dropping down onto the cushion beside him and curling up against his side. “That’s just crazy… Do you think their parents are making them say stuff like that? He promised to do like… a bajillion push uppies… He can’t do that…” He continued rambling, but you quickly silenced him with a kiss, one hand cupping his cheek as the other held you up just enough to look at him.

“Kids never remember their promises… Just like he didn’t remember that he promised to help me clean his room this weekend. Don’t get so worked up over it.” You cooed softly, your thumb brushing over his cheek soothingly. “I think you need some sleep… We all do. Come to bed with me.” He nodded slowly, getting up first to help you off the couch and leading you to the bedroom.

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad for her too though?” He asked as he pulled the blankets back on your side of the bed, waiting for you to lay down before brushing his fingers along your swollen stomach. “I don’t want to let any of them down…”

“Binnie…” You murmured his name, placing your hand on top of his and giving it a light squeeze. “I don’t think you’re able to be anything but a good father to both of them. Our babies are so lucky… You really need to stop worrying. Get some rest, cuddle me… Anything… Just, stop thinking so bad about yourself. MinMin loves you, I love you, and she’s going to love you just as much.”

“Promise?” He whispered, sounding and looking almost childlike, and you bit your bottom lip to keep from giggling at just how cute he looked right now.

“I promise…”

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix @felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life

449 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 3 months

Note

Another lactation blurb for ymls would be amazing bestie! And I would also love to see them be all domestic and fluffy!

this is fucking F I L T H and I wrote it on my phone so I’m sorry if there are any typos!!!!!!

. . .

”My tits are so fucking sore.”

Harry chuckles gently, glancing over at Y/N as she cups her breasts through the soft fabric of her sweater. His smile quickly fades into a sympathetic pout, reaching over from the wheel to wrap a hand around her thigh, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry,” he says genuinely, pulling into the parking lot of their destination, “You’ve been doing such a good job with pumping and feeding Clem, though. I’m so thankful for you.”

It’s hard to be grouchy and grumbly when Harry says sweet things like that. His gratitude quickly melts away the irritation sitting heavy in her chest so she purses her lips instead, breathing out through her nose in lieu of a response.

It’s only their second time out without Clementine, and it’s not even anything terribly exciting. They’re just going to get lunch at a cafe they both like — they left their three month old off at Y/N’s sister’s place, but neither of them liked being away from her for too long (Harry in particular). The first time they left Clem with his parents, it was two weeks ago and it was just so they could go food shopping. They made it through two aisles before he started flexing his fingers nervously, asking Y/N if it was too early to call and ask about how Clem was doing.

(Y/N pretended like it was, but in reality, she’d been wanting to ring Harry’s mom up for the past 20 minutes.)

But having a newborn and navigating a relatively new relationship was exhausting, and Harry was insistent that they spend time together outside of her place. (He’d apparently replaced his obsession with parenting books with relationship ones.)

And that’s how they ended up sitting at their favorite sandwich spot, making quiet conversation about Y/N’s maternity leave, Clementine’s next doctor’s appointment, and Harry needing to end the lease on his own apartment sometime soon.

Everything’s going fine as they munch on their food, sharing a plate of French fries between them. And then Y/N feels it — the familiar sensation of milk dribbling from her swollen nipples, and she drops her sandwich to her plate, her eyes bulging with annoyance.

“Fuck me,” she mutters, sighing out in frustration. Harry glances up with a concerned expression and she leans closer to him, “I’m leaking. I think I need to pump.”

“Oh, shit,” Harry mumbles, “You don’t have a spare bottle or anything on you?”

She shakes her head. “No. I left all the pumping shit at home. I think I’m just gonna go to the bathroom and, like… I don’t know. Try to clean up a bit.”

“I’ll come with you,” Harry instantly volunteers, sliding out of the booth. Her eyebrows raise slightly. “I know you’re in pain right now. It’s the least I can do.”

She doesn’t fight him on the offer, instead following him to the single stall bathroom. With an annoyed expression, she locks the door behind him and hikes her sweater up over her nursing bra. There’s already faint stains over where her nipples are, making her sigh. She goes to reach for some toilet paper to clean off her breasts when Harry’s hand wraps around her wrist, stopping her.

“Don’t,” he murmurs, glancing down at her covered breasts, “Can I?”

They haven’t done this since she leaked for the first time, back when she was still pregnant. They hadn’t even really spoken about it, but if Y/N was being honest, she thought about it frequently. It had been one of the hottest things she’d ever been on the receiving end of.

Parting her lips anxiously, she nods, straightening her posture and subconsciously pushing her chest out. He smirks and unhooks her bra, a low groan sounding from his mouth when his eyes meet her milky breasts. It’s a mess he’s dying to clean up.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, “Let daddy have a taste, yeah?”

Maybe it’s the heightened post-pregnancy hormones or maybe it’s just Harry, but Y/N’s eyes flutter shut at the honorific, nodding quickly. It’s not a moment more before his lips latch around her nipple, sucking with an enthusiasm she’d only seen once before. Her fingers curl themselves into his hair, gripping roughly as she whimpers, her pussy instantly growing slick from the dirty sight.

“You’re so fucking incredible,” Harry mutters against her skin, nipping just below her nipple before switching over to the other one, “Feeding our perfect baby with this. You never let daddy have some though. Bit selfish, I think.”

“Y-you can have it whenever you want,” she mewls, tugging at his hair, “Fuck— touch me, please?”

She barely finishes her sentence before he’s pushing his hand down her pants and underneath the cotton fabric of her panties. They haven’t had sex since she gave birth, even though she’s been cleared. Harry still knows her body like the back of his hand, though, deft fingertips rolling over her wet, swollen clit as he sucks every last bit of milk she has to offer.

She doesn’t know what pushes her closer to her orgasm; if it’s the sight of Harry drinking her milk or the sensation of him rubbing tight circles into her clit, but it doesn’t take much for every muscle to clench itself, breathy whimpers falling from her lips as she comes all over his hand.

“There you fuckin’ go, mama,” he croons, glancing up to watch her fall apart. It’s his favorite view, but maybe he’s a bit more partial to the sight when her milk is dripping down his chin. “Cum for me, baby. Dirty girl, obsessed with daddy licking your milk up.”

He works her though it like it’s his job, her eyes only fluttering open when her peak has finally tapered off. The first thing she sees is Harry’s smug smile, an involuntary, shocked laugh sounding between them.

“You’re pretty kinky.” She teases. He rolls his eyes, clipping her bra closed and fitting her breasts back inside.

“Right, like you didn’t just come from all that.”

“Shut up,” she says, smacking his chest playfully. “I wanna finish that sandwich.”

#bestie asks #writing #ymls concept

366 notes · View notes

cutielando · 2 months

Note

the last social media au was so cute!! maybe one where george’s gf is a famous romance book author and when they make the relationship public his friends cannot believe posh “arms against the wall 2023 intro package pose” george could be the inspiration for all the smutty scenes his gf is famous for (only if your comfortable of course!)

instagram au

synopsis: this wonderful request ❤️✨

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Instagram

liked by zendaya, georgerussell63 and 301,584 others

yourusername working on something very special 🌸

view all 50,195 comments

booklover101 YAS BITCHES WE'RE GETTING A NEW BOOK!!!!!

chillypeppers Y/N on her way to releasing yet another banger😮‍💨😮‍💨

zendaya what u cooking bby?😉💞

yourusername something with an extra bit of spice🥵

user1 is nobody else wondering who she's writing the *explicit* scenes about?

user2 lol she most probably has a boyfriend or something

user3 or maybe she's just like any other young woman lmao

lilymhe i'm literally obsessed with the way you write🤤

yourusername thank you baby. i'll let you in on a secret later for this ;)

user4 we all want to be lily right now :((((

landonorris do you ever run out of things to write?

yourusername not really, no

lilyzneimer the book is coming along beautifully ❤️

yourusername thank you honey✨🌸❤️

oscarpiastri did you give her a sneak peek??????????

yourusername ...maybe

oscarpiastri deeply betrayed

georgerussell63 my beautiful girl this comment has been deleted

user5 GEORGE????????

user6 IS GEORGE THE SECRET BOYFRIEND?????

charles_leclerc can't wait to read it

yourusername you’re just like one of the girlies charlie 🌸🌸🌸

user2 the amount of money i spend on her books is so unhealthy but i don’t care. TAKE ALL MY MONEY BABY 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user3 is it a stand-alone or is the new book going to be part of a series?👀

yourusername i’m planning a new series soon, but my next release is going to be a stand-alone 🌸

user4 i love her, she is the sweetest 🥰🥰

iMessage

george 🩵

i might have just fucked up

y/n ❤️

you're hopeless

george 🩵

do you think people saw the comment?

y/n ❤️

judging by the way my phone has been blowing up, i think they have

george 🩵

i'm sorry, my love

y/n ❤️

it's okay, don't worry. now we can mess with the fans for a bit ;)

Twitter

Instagram

liked by georgerussell63, zendaya and 401,639 others

yourusername “racing hearts” is now yours, my lovelies. this book holds a very dear place in my heart and i hope that it will speak to you like it spoke to me when i first started writing it. thank you to everyone who came to the book signing yesterday, you make my life all that more special ✨❤️🌸💞

view all 98,374 comments

georgerussell63 beautiful book, who were you thinking about when you wrote it?🤔

yourusername you know, just a random Brit

georgerussell63 must be one hell of a guy to get a book of his own

yourusername he really is

zendaya you have outdone yourself once again. reading your books has become a MUST ✨✨✨

yourusername thank you honey 💞💞💞

landonorris you went wild again, didn’t you?

yourusername i might have

landonorris do i even wanna read it?

yourusername honestly? probably not

lilyzneimer it’s even better than what i thought 💞

yourusername i always have a trick or two up my sleeve 😉🌸

charles_leclerc someone should censor you

yourusername where would be the fun in that?

charles_leclerc how does your manager approve of this?

yourmanager i’m one of the girlies 🌸

charles_leclerc that explains it

booklover101 THE WAY I SCREAMED WHILE READING IT HAS ME INSANE

booklover101 YOU DESERVE EVERY AWARD IN THE WHOLE WORLD

chillypepper i have no words. i said it before and i’ll say it again. she is the best author of her generation

user1 never beating the dating allegations now

user2 she literally named her main character RUSSELL, HOW DO PEOPLE STILL THINK HER AND GEORGE AREN’T DATING??????

user3 George is the luckiest man in the world😭😭

user4 he must really rock your world if those scenes are anything like the real thing

yourusername you have no idea 🤭

mercedesamgf1 I couldn't put it down. Amazing work, Y/N!!

yourusername thank you admin 🌸💞💞

liked by yourusername, lilyzneimer and 601,583 others

georgerussell63 Words can't describe how proud I am of you. The way you connect with your readers, the way you give life to every story you write never ceases to amaze me. I'm thankful to be able to watch you do your thing, watch you inspire so many young writers to chase their dreams. I love you 💞 P.S. Yes, I am the inspiration behind the sexy scenes ;) tagged: yourusername

view all 99,281 comments

yourusername your support means everything to me. thank you for always being here for me, helping me through my writer's block and cheering me on. i love you more than you know💞🌸

georgerussell63 i love you more❤️

landonorris i know way too much about your personal life now, mate

georgerussell63 jealous?

landonorris as if

yourusername don't fight boys, what would Russell and Brendan think about you two fighting?

landonorris BRENDAN IS ME?????????

yourusername oops👀

user1 i am in love with their love😮‍💨❤️

user2 going to jump off a cliff, brb

user3 i cannot believe i know stuff about George Russell's sex life👀

user4 George's? HOW ABOUT OUR PRECIOUS LITTLE Y/N'S?

alex_albon simp

georgerussell63 how can i not be? just look at Y/N

yourusername baby🥹💞❤️🌸

alex_albon you two make me sick. i preferred it when you weren't public

georgerussell63 and i preferred it when you shut up

lilymhe we are all in love with Y/N ✨❤️👀

yourusername but you’re the one who has my heart baby 💞💞

georgerussell63 ?????????

yourusername sorry babe 😁💞

mercedesamgf1 Our favorite couple!❤️ liked by yourusername and georgerussell63

Thank you so much for requesting!!! I hope you like this !!! ❤️❤️

♡♡♡♡♡

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE

REQUEST HERE

♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat

323 notes · View notes

alcoholfreenayeon · 2 months

Note

can you do co worker Irene x fem reader,where Irene secretly has a crush on reader and she waits every time for her.But this day readers ex didnt stop calling reader and ended up waiting for her at work so Irene went to reader and acted like her gf.Later Irene took reader to her home and they made out ,THENN READERS EX CALLED AGAIN.irene told her to answer the call and while they were talking reader couldn't stop moaning (English isn't my first language sorry)

A/N: Well….as I wrote this, I realized it was not so much smut but more fluff that’s a bit suggestive so this will be a bit disappointing for all of you who voted for this expecting smut😭(but also horny jail for you all🚔) anyways, this is probably the last request I’m doing before I finish the Angst April fics unless I get a random burst of creativity.

Stupid Cupid

Irene x fem!reader

CW: Fluff, suggestive

Your phone started ringing, once again, right on time, your ex calling you exactly 5 minutes after your lunch break starts so you have no excuse to not pick up other than that you don’t want to talk.

You sigh and pick up, knowing the calls will continue to come if you don’t pick up. “Hello….”

As you talk with your ex, telling her the same thing you have been for the past month, you are seemingly unaware of an annoyed stare in your direction, albeit from afar. Irene watches you, an exasperated look on her face. ‘The audacity of that stupid woman to keep calling her y/n’, she thought to herself. ‘Well…not her y/n….yet’. She really wanted to walk over, snatch the phone out of your hand, tell your ex to fuck off, block her and then kiss you. But alas, she couldn’t do that. And that annoyed her even more. Regardless, she was about to get on with her work when her ears perked up at something you said.

“What! What do you mean you are on your way here? I don’t want to see you. I already sa-. No, we don’t need to give it another tr-…..fine, whatever”, you sigh and put down your phone, rolling your eyes in irritation, unsure of what will happen next when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn and find that it’s Irene, your coworker. Supposedly she’s the scary one but she’s been nothing but sweet to you so you have always chalked it down to her just being more prompt and serious than the rest.

“I, ahem, I did the….”, Irene begins but trails off when you take the sheets of paper from her, your hands lingering on hers for a second. You smile at her and you could have sworn she blushed. “……I couldn’t help it but I overheard you on the phone…”, she says hesitantly.

“Ugh..yea..my ex…it’s just a mess”, you start, “and yeah I know I can just block or her not answer or whatever but like…I think she won’t let up as long as she thinks she can win me back…”

Irene listened to you, a concerned look on her face, a slight frown forming on her face before her expression softened again. “Y/n….maybe…”, she hesitates, you see her cheeks flushing, “you should tell her you are seeing someone else…or something”, she quickly added at the end.

You sigh, “I wish it was that easy, she’ll keep on pressing me even then, who is it, how do they look, why them etc etc. Thanks for the suggestion though”.

Irene stayed quiet, a bit stumped. That’s when you hear a shout, “Y/N there you are!”. And you see your ex walk up and you sigh. This was not going to be pretty….

She walks right up to you and you can’t deny it, she does look really pretty, “Y/n…”, she smiles, “look I’m sorry for being so pushy lately…but I really think we are making a mistake. Like it’s been a little while now and it’s been difficult for me and you said it’s been hard for you too so why don’t we just make out-up, oops”, she giggled.

Irene couldn’t believe what she was hearing, no way Y/N would fall for this trap right? Like it was so blatantly obvious.

You stayed silent…yes she was not completely wrong, you had been feeling a bit lonely lately and you did miss intimacy but you had been focusing on your job lately and that made it much easier, like for some reason you didn’t feel like working was such a burden anymore. But did you really want to start over once again?

As you considered your options, your ex took a step closer, smiling, her hands reaching for your cheek.

That’s when Irene suddenly stood up, a determined expression on her face as she got in between you two. “Stop. And leave. She doesn’t want you. How many times does she have to tell you before you understand huh?”, she says calmly but also coldly.

Your ex seems taken aback for a moment before she chuckles, “Who even are yo-”

“I’m her girlfriend.”, Irene says defiantly.

Now your ex looks stunned. She gives Irene a once over, a frown forming on her face and she faces you back again, “Y/N? What is she….”

You look at Irene and then your ex and make up your mind, “Yea, it’s true….”.

“You both are lying, there’s no way, I don’t believe-”, she begins again but is cut off.

“Believe what you want but that’s the truth. And none of your business anymore anyway so just go away”, Irene snaps.

Dumbstruck, your ex just stares at Irene who grabs your hand takes you back to your desk, as soon she’s out of sight, you notice Irene is completely red faced and she lets go of your hand slowly, reluctantly…and then glances at you, unsure of what of say when you hug her, “Thanks for that, you shouldn’t have…now she’ll be after you too…”

“I don’t think I should worry about that too much”, Irene replies, seemingly unbothered.

“No…I mean like…I’m pretty sure she’s gonna be at the parking lot when you leave, watching us to see whether we were lying or not…”, you sigh.

“Oh”, Irene says quietly as she realizes what you mean, “I…I guess maybe we just…just pretend abitlongerthenright?”

“Huh…oh..oh!”, you are a bit surprised Irene is still willing to continue with this facade, “S-sure…I guess that works…maybe it’ll put her off for good? But…what do we do?”

“……maybe….you come with me…you know instead of taking the bus…just pretend I’m dropping you home or something?”, Irene says quietly.

You consider it for moment before nodding in agreement and that was the plan.

Hours later as you get in the passenger seat of Irene’s car, you notice through the side mirror that a familiar car was in the distance, observing. You sigh and point it out to Irene who says nothing and begins to drive in silence.

A couple minutes in, you notice that your ex is still following and you once again tell Irene who suggests maybe you both go to her house for a bit so the ex doesn’t bother you and has no choice but to believe you both are dating.

20 minutes later, you are sitting awkwardly in Irene’s living room while she gets some snacks. You both eat a few biscuits and then Irene suddenly becomes really quiet, she looks at you and takes a deep breath, “Y/N…..I have something to tell you…”

You look at her, perplexed and tilt your head, “what is it?”, however as you say it, you suddenly become very conscious of her hand on top of yours, the way she is looking at you right now, how you yourself look at the moment and why suddenly it feels like there’s so much tension between you both.

She hesitates…and hesitates again and then looks away, moving her hand and shifting away looking frustrated, “Nevermind…it’s nothing…my bad”.

“Huh”, you feel surprised and a bit hurt that it seems like Irene isn’t completely comfortable around you, “Come on, just say it, you’ve already said you are my girlfriend”, you say smiling and nudge her, “What could be-”, you falter when you see Irene look back up at you, nervously biting her lip and then suddenly putting both her arms on your shoulders, pushing you back a little and she starts to lean in, as if you kiss you.

Not knowing what to do you just shut your eyes and a moment later you felt her lips on yours. She kissed you and kissed you again and this time you kissed her back and before you even realized you both had begun to make out. A minute later Irene finally pulled back, both of you red faced and breathless, panting, looking at the other.

Irene clenched her fists and suddenly blurted out, “I meant it when I said I want to be your girlfriend”.

You slowly blinked, “what…..”

She sighs in frustration, looking away, blushing, “don’t make me say it again…..”

Unbelievable, was Irene really saying she liked you? What! Did she always like you? Is that why it always seemed she was nicer to you? Did you like her too? You didn’t think so but…at the same time why did it feel so good when she kissed you, why did your heart pound when she said she was your girlfriend….why couldn’t you take your eyes off her when she drove you here…..did….did you like her too? Maybe…enough atleast to be willing to give it a shot with her.

You look at her and she doesn’t meet your eyes but you feel her tense up, waiting for your reply and then this time, you kiss her. Irene gasps but then leans into it, melting into your arms. She then caresses your cheek and begins to take off her jacket, “Y/N…..I want you”

Even though that makes you want you bury your face and squeal, you manage to stay somewhat calm, smirking at her, “what are you waiting for then?”, you say moving back and leaning against the sofa.

As Irene gets on top of you, her eyes full of desire, suddenly your phone starts ringing loudly completely ruining the mood…you both sigh and you pick up….

“Hello….oh it’s you…what now, honestly you are just being really annoying now”, you say, annoyed now that your ex is still calling you. “No, I don-ah!”, you cover your mouth as you almost moaned because Irene just began to kiss your neck. You try to give her a look to stop but shakes her head, “keep talking”, she says smugly while continuing to kiss your neck while her hands begin to undress you.

A few minutes later, you were shivering, almost completely naked, your neck and shoulders full of hickeys and your ex almost crying on the phone as she cuts the call, realizing what was happening.

You take a deep breath and toss your phone away, ready to jump at Irene but she beats you to it, getting on top of you, her hand clamping your mouth shut, “you were so bad right now, couldn’t even be quiet while on the phone…that can’t happen, so I’m going to test you now”, she whispered as her hands began to sink lower and lower, “if you stay quiet….I’ll let you off or else you are going to be edged again and again until I get what I want from you ok?”…….

#ask me anything #answered asks #anon ask #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #reader x idol #red velvet fluff #red velvet x reader #red velvet smut #red velvet scenarios #red velvet irene #bae joohyun #irene smut #irene #irene x reader

165 notes · View notes

svt-nari · 2 months

Note

Hiii! Can you do a post about the NANA TOUR PLEASEEE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

a/n: i finished watching nana tour a few days ago and finally decided to write about nari’s experience there! hope you like it bae <3 (not proofread yet, sorry for any mistakes!)

nana tour highlighted moments:

nari’s mission:

“oh~ i’m excited to get my mission!”, she squirmed in her seat, a large smile present on her face.

“okay, okay.” na pd laughed, messing with the cards. “pick it up!”

nari eagerly picked up the card, laughing out loud when she read her mission. she looked at the crew in disbelief, loving how easy her challenge was.

“it’s so easy! it’ll be over in minutes!”, she laughed.

“what is it, tell us,”

she turned the card around, giggling while the camera focused on the words written on it. ‘get at least five members to join you in a dance performance.’ was written in korean on the paper, nari giggling once again as she thought of them dancing.

“i hope it’s as easy as you say. i think they’ll be doubting every step you take.” na pd laughed.

“oh~ get a few drinks in their system and we are ready!”

dinari moment:

nari was peacefully laying down on the ground while reading a random book coups put in her bag so she could distract herself, a small smile present on her face from reading the little notes he left on the pages he thought that needed to be highlighted. she heard humming behind her but could care less about it as she was immersed by the book.

dino sighed as he entered the living room, plopping down on the floor next to nari and scooting over to read the book with her.

“was it coups hyung who wrote this?”, he questioned, smiling slightly at how cute the couple was.

nari nodded, sighing right after. she missed him a lot, she wished he could be with them. sadly it was impossible due to his condition, he needed to rest as much as possible to come back soon.

chan sighed too, a bit sad at seeing her upset about the whole ordeal. he scooted closer to her and gave nari a side hug, snuggling closer to her side. nari smiled and returned the hug, sneakily putting her hand in his head to pet it, just like she did back in their trainee days. the both of them sighed contentedly, opting to stay in this moment for a little longer.

little did they know that some of the other members were watching them adoringly from afar, taking pictures to capture the adorable moment forever.

mission time!

nari was feeling a little bored after eating dinner and decided to lay a bit on the couch, doing nothing but scrolling through tiktok. as she ended up scrolling through a challenge, nari suddenly got an idea to start her own mission. sneakily she sent it on the group chat, asking if anyone wanted to do it with her.

enthusiastically, hoshi, seungkwan, mingyu and vernon agreed to it. nari got confused when the american boy agreed but accepted it nonetheless, though, she still needed one more member to agree so she could be done with the mission.

me anyone else wanna join? we need one more person to be in sync like the video…

junie ⁉️ if there’s still room i’m in!

nari laughed mischievously to herself and got up, sending a quick message so the guys would come towards her. she quickly set up her phone and waited for them to come, doing a few touch ups on her clothes.

“noona~”, seungkwan sang playfully, hugging her arm.

“kwanie~”, she imitated him, squeezing his cheek softly. “where are the others?”, she questioned him as only seungkwan and vernon came to the living room.

“ah, mingyu is changing, hoshi needed to use the bathroom and i don’t know about jun.” vernon quickly explained and nari thanked him, asking them if they wanted to practice the quick choreography.

just as they started rewatching the video, jun sneakily appeared behind them, softly putting his hand on nari’s shoulder. that ended up startling her, in which she ended up screaming from the jumpscare.

“jun-ah!”, she yelled out, wide eyed. “you almost killed me!”

he sheepishly smiled and apologized, giving nari a quick pat on the head as they went back to watching the video. the four started to learn the choreography little by little, laughing here and there whenever they messed up.

“i can’t believe this!”, hoshi fake-cried. “you started without me!?”

they only mocked him, mingyu laughed at that and joined them in a newly dressed shirt that he bought in italy and some sweatpants. they quickly got the choreography after that and started to take different videos of the dance to decided which one got better.

as they finished, nari smirked naughtily towards a camera and giggled, sending the video to cheol with ‘i just made these dorks do my mission without them knowing 😋’ written underneath the sent video.

revealing herself:

“so, nari, did you complete your mission?”, na pd asked, pushing his glasses higher. “you said it was easy so i expect you did.”

nari giggled and gave him a thumbs up, the other members’ eyes widening while they all started to speculate what her mission could possibly be.

“noona, you were so quiet the whole day! there’s no way you did it!”, chan wondered.

“right, nari-ah.”, wonwoo interrupted. “even i thought you were a bit too quiet, that’s a lot…”

well, they weren’t exaclty wrong. nari had in fact been quiet the whole day, the reason being her missing cheol more than expected. she was having fun, sure, but being away from him made her feel a bit sad at times. nari even called him a few times that day – something that she does on a daily basis, but not more than two times per day. seungcheol found it weird too, but since he also missed her he didn’t ask about it.

“i told you why i was quiet when kwanie interrogated me at the kitchen.”, she laughed slightly. “but i did complete my mission!”

“can you show us?”

immediately she got her phone and turned it towards the entire table, bursting in a laughing fit when she saw their reactions. the members in the video were feeling even more betrayed, with seungkwan and jun having agape mouths and shocked looks on their faces. vernon had his iconic ‘o’ expression while mingyu and hoshi were pointing at her in disbelief of the situation.

“so, can you tell us your mission again?”, na pd laughed, loving the chaos.

“well…”, she hid her phone, smiling sweetly. “i had to get at least five members to perform a dance with me!”

then chaos broke once again as everyone felt betrayed by their older sister.

whisper game:

as they were in a uneven number, the members decided to let nari pick whoever she wanted to pair up with. she ended up being the last member to go, so she decided on seungkwan. they all – but seungkwan – complained about her choice and the only answer she gave them was:

“he’s funnier than all of you combined, so shut up.”, which made them burst out laughing at her nonchalant expression.

nari’s head bopped to the beat, she was so distracted by it that she didn’t even see seungkwan trying to get her attention. ‘drunk-dazed’ by enhypen was blasting her ears, the woman being unable to contain herself was dancing to her heart’s content. the boys laughed at her carefree attitude, dancing as if there was no one else there.

“HWANG NARI!”, seungkwan yelled in her face. “let’s start?”

startled she nodded, facing forward as mingyu stands behind her with the written word towards seungkwan only. everyone laughed as soon as they saw it, going crazy as they knew fans would love this specific part of the episode. the word ‘wedding’ was written in korea hadnwriting, seungkwan being open mouthed while trying to think of what to say.

“okay!”, he started. “ring!”, he shouted.

“RING!”, nari yelled out, receiving a nod from seungkwan and laughs from the other people present.

“woah, noona’s voice can get loud!”, vernon said impressed.

“special ring!”, the boy tried once again.

“oh!”, she thought. “OH! ENGAGEMENT!”

“OTHER WORD FOR THAT!”, seungkwan said enthusiastically.

“proposal?”, she wondered, receiving a head shake in response. “wedding?”, she said, getting an excited nod from her dongsaeng. “WEDDING! oh-“, she pouted. “i miss cheollie now.”

the staff cooed at her, the boys either rolling their eyes or booing her words. nari just shrugged, claiming ‘you are just jealous that you won’t get married like me’ which made them boo her even louder.

“HWANG NARI!”, seungkwan stressed. “PAY ATTENTION TO MY MOUTH!”

“i don’t think our leader is gonna like seungkwan’s words…”, jun wondered, which made everyone roar in laughter.

“YOU DON’T MAKE SENSE!”, nari yelled back. “i can’t hear you anyways…”

seungkwan sighed stressed, trying to keep himself sane while playing the game with her. mingyu laughed while holding the big card while silently asking if seungkwan wanted to pass the ‘yogurt’ word in which the youngest nodded in defeat. though, the next word made him smile big as he knew she would guess it right away.

“FAVORITE ICE CREAM!”, he yelled.

“MINE OR YOURS?”, nari yelled back.

the members were all slightly cringing from how loud the two were speaking, though they were being the funniest duo in the game. nari seemed unbothered at all times while seungkwan stressed over trying to make her understand what he wanted to say.

“YOURS!”

“oh.”, she thought. “i don’t have one tho…”

everyone bursted out laughing at that.

“THE ONE YOU EAT THE MOST!”, seungkwan tried once again.

“oh!”, she smiled happily. “cookies and cream.”

“right!”, seungkwan smiled. “now a cookie brand.”

“a what?”

“cookie,” he said slowly. “brand.”

nari scratched her head slightly as she thought of something to say. a sudden look of realization crossed her features as she stopped in her tracks, smiling big as she shouted out her answer. quick images of her cat flashing through her mind

“OREO!”, she jumped in her seat. “OREO! OREO!”

seungkwan nodded to her and was ready to say she succeeded, though, right on cue the timer set off, indicating their time to invert positions had come. they quickly complied and seungkwan sighed out once at his new seat.

“god…”, he took his headphones off for a breather. “i feel like i just lost ten years of life…”

“well,” nari smiled sweetly at him, getting up to stand in front of him. “sorry not sorry an mianhaeseo mianhae~”, she started to sing and dance to itzy’s song, making everyone laugh once again.

205 notes · View notes

judysxnd · 4 months

Text

Cookie dough

Lando Norris x reader

summary: when you burnt dinner, you decided to make the only thing you knew how to cook: cookies

I absolutely don’t like what I wrote, so imma do what I do when I send a risky text, I’m publishing it and staying away from my phone 😭

——————————————————————————

You were staying with Lando for a few days at his place before leaving for the new F1 season. Tonight he was playing games with his friends again, streaming a little to please his fans one last time. In the meantime, you were trying to make what could be your dinner, but it was not going well.

You’re not really a good cook, but you manage your way through. Usually. This time it didn’t seem like it. You couldn’t cook the meat right, it wasn’t enough, and when you thought it was good, it was overcooked. The rice is the only thing you didn’t mess up. But you couldn’t only eat rice! So you secretly ordered food while Lando was still playing.

But you decided to cook something for dessert, something that didn’t take long and that you knew you wouldn’t mess up: cookies. It was simple to make, and it doesn’t take long. You put some music in the background, from the playlist you made for Lando. You have similar taste in music, and every time Lando put his music you always liked it, so you made a playlist with his musics.

It helped when you were away from each other. When you missed him you put his playlist, making you feel like he was with you. He doesn’t know about it, you don’t think he does. It’s not like you were hiding it, but you usually listened to it when he wasn’t here, since when you’re together you mix both of your music.

You wanted to sing to the music, but Lando was streaming not far from you and no one needed to hear you. So you were doing some playback, moving your hips while you were making the cookies. You were so focused in the cookies and in the music that you didn’t hear Lando enter the kitchen.

“very much liking the view” he said, making you jump

“Oh, Lando! I didn’t hear you” you laughed “what are you doing here?” You asked him as he walked closer to you, leaving a kiss on your head before leaning against the counter next to you.

“Hm, I’m living here” he joked

“Haha hilarious” you rolled your eyes “you stopped streaming?”

“Yeah, I was getting too hungry and the smell of the food made me stop” you laughed

“Well you’re going to be disappointed” you admitted as you poured the flour in the bowl. He looked at you with a straight face.

“Why- what did you do?”

“I’m just not much of a cook”

“What did you burn this time?” He started to look for the food

“I didn’t burn anything!” You started to defend yourself “and you’re not better than me so you can’t say anything”

“I know I’m not better, but at least I know it and I stopped trying” he laughed

“You’re lucky my hands are busy otherwise I would have hit you”

“But where’s the food?” He opened the oven to see the meat completely black “if that isn’t burn I don’t know what it is” he closed the oven and went back to you

“I’m sorry I tried”

“It’s okay, I’ll order something”

“Don’t worry I already took care of it”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I ordered what we were supposed to eat” you laughed “I did hope you would still be playing so that I could pretend I cooked it, but, well, I can’t have everything”

“I would have noticed either way”

“Sure” you scoffed

“There’s a difference between food cooked at home and food from a restaurant, I would have known” he leaned on the counter again, stealing some dough from the bowl

“Hey! Keep your fingers out of the cookies!” He laughed, tasting it. “And no you wouldn’t know”

“At least the cookies are good, if you don’t burn them in the oven we can eat them” you pretended that you were going to hit him, making him step back a bit.

“You be careful with what you say pretty boy, because I know for a fact that you can’t tell the difference between the food I cook and the food from a restaurant”

“What? That’s not true”

“Yes, remember the lasagna we ate a month or two ago? That I made?”

“Back at your place?”

“Yes”

“Yeah, it was del- wait” you tilted your head “you didn’t cook it?”

“No, I burnt the sauce so I ordered them, I was too embarrassed to admit I messed up so I pretended I cooked them” he started to laugh

“I knew it tasted too good to be cooked by you” you couldn’t help but laugh too

“We’re not great cooks”

“No, we’re very bad cooks”

“The fire alarm always turns on when I cook breaded fish” you admitted

“What???” Lando was laughing even more “how is that even possible!” He said in a high pitched voice, still laughing

“I don’t know! So I stopped cooking those too”

“I can’t judge, it does the same for me”

“Okay can you pass me the chocolate chips please? In the bowl over there” you pointed, your hands full of cookie dough. Lando grabbed the bowl and poured the chocolate in the dough while you started to knead it.

“We’re making a good team” Lando said as he put the bowl in the sink

“You just put chocolate chips in a bowl” you laughed

“But I did it good” you rolled your eyes

“Whatever” you couldn’t help but laugh “can you change the music please?”

“Sure” he said as he grabbed your phone, changing the music. “Why is there my name on top of the list?”

“Hm?” You turned around “oh because it’s your playlist” he looked at you with puppy eyes

“You made a playlist for me?”

“Yeah!” You smiled “I love most of your music so I made a playlist with the songs we have in common”

“That’s so cute!” He walked behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while kissing your neck. “I made one for you too” he whispered in your ear.

“Really?” You had a big smile on your face. “Yeah, let me show you!”

“No no wait” you said before he could move

“What?”

“It can wait a bit, I want you to stay here” he kissed your cheek and rested his head on your shoulder, arms locked tight around you while you were finished to make the cookie dough.

#fanfic #imagine #oneshot #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris one shot #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic

216 notes · View notes

morganbritton132 · 1 year

Text

Eddie starts a live stream in his studio like, “I got banished to the basement for stepping on a recently mopped floor.“

He starts out answering questions he sees in the chat but eventually grows tired of that and starts messing around with his guitar. An hour into it, long after Eddie’s forgotten about the live stream, Steve comes down. Eddie honestly thinks he’s going to start reorganizing his record collection or something so he’s a bit surprise when Steve pulls the guitar out of his hand and replaces it with himself.

Eddie is never one to complain about having a lap full of Steve Harrington, especially when he kisses his neck like that, “Sorry I called you a freak.”

Eddie, for some fucking reason: Wanna talk about that other thing you said?

Steve: Not really

Eddie, with a sigh: Unfortunately, I do…. You haven’t spoken to your mother in twenty years

Steve, pulling back: Not true! We spoke at my dad’s funeral

Eddie: So, twenty-three years then? You’re getting yourself all worked up about something that’s probably not going to happen and then you’re going to be upset all weekend.

Steve: It’s different this time

Eddie: How? Did you call her?

Steve: I wrote her a letter

Eddie:

Steve: Shut up, she doesn’t answer the phone. And- she’ll like it. Will helped me with it

Eddie: So, Will knew you were setting yourself up for failure?

Eddie, realizing that was a little harsh: Look, I’m just saying. Let’s be realistic, babe

Steve, climbing out of Eddie’s lap to get up but Eddie grabs his hand before he can run off: You don’t get it, Eddie. You have Wayne

Eddie: So do you! You have Hopper and Joyce, and Claudia. Those are the people that have been there and that love you. We lived in the same town as your mom for years and she couldn’t even go to your appointments

Steve: She let me stay-

Eddie: On their insurance? You have given that woman a lot of mileage out of the bare minimum, Steve. She didn’t work extra shifts to help pay for your medication, Wayne did. She didn’t get you an appointment with that fancy doctor in Indianapolis, Hopper did. They were more of a parent to you than your mother ever-

Steve: But they’re not my mom, Eddie! I want my mom, okay? She wasn’t always like that, she-

Eddie: She’s been like that for thirty fucking years, Steve

Steve: I thought I was going to die. I was pretty damn sure that my brain was full of holes and I was going to die a month ago. I kept thinking that I’m going to die and she going to go to a funeral for a complete stranger, and I-

Eddie, realizing that he never ended his live stream and knocking his phone over so the screen goes black: Stop talking

Steve: What?

Eddie: I think we both need to cool off. You should - you should get ready for bed. I’ll be up there in a second.

It takes a second before you hear Steve say whatever and leave the room. It’s followed by Eddie whispering ‘fuck’ to himself before the live stream ends.

#did someone call for angst?#eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

851 notes · View notes

gyunglitter · 8 months

Text

i'll always choose you ⚘ choi beomgyu

-for the days being alive seems too hard, you're so happy to have your boyfriend

warnings: none really, just beomgyu being a simp—also, not edited

tags: established relationship, angst, fluff, hurt to comfort

notes: this is the first time i’ve ever finished a story (even if it is just a one shot), but i’m so happy it was this one. i wrote this during a couple of my bad days, so i hope it can help you on yours <3

Beomgyu was just barely getting out of his post-practice shower when he heard his special ringtone he had set just for you go off. You hadn’t talked to each other all day, your last interaction being a quick facetime and good night texts. And while the other members teased him for being clingy, he admitted with his full chest that he missed you. Tiredly wiping a towel through his damp hair, Beomgyu looked at his phone to see a new text message from you.

From: bubs <3

are you busy?

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow at the simple message; typically, you were a pretty energetic texter. It was something he liked about you since he was the same way with people he cared about. Your relationship was still fairly new, but he didn’t think it felt that way with you– the two of you seemed to just get one another, clicking instantly right off the bat and your connection getting deeper with every interaction. So to see a quick text like that surprised him a little bit, but with the thought of getting to facetime you, Beomgyu texted you back immediately.

To: bubs <3

hey, just got out of the shower! practice went a little long today🙃

Beomgyu set his phone down for a moment to throw on some clothes, thinking you would take a bit longer to respond since you typically send longer texts once you knew he was free to talk. However, he was proven wrong when he heard your ringtone go off not even ten seconds later.

From: bubs <3

can i see you?

Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel a little worried as he glanced at the message, throwing his shirt on to get his hands back on his phone. Call him dramatic, but the simple sentence made the worst possible scenarios run through his mind.

To: bubs <3

is everything okay?

what happened?

From: bubs <3

it’s fine

nothing happened

sorry, didn’t mean to worry you

A sigh left Beomgyu’s mouth as he read your last text, confusion and worry only building up even more. Though you assured him nothing had happened, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Not only were your texts incredibly bland, but you also weren’t elaborating much of anything, something you supremely hated. Communication was key to you, and he was just now starting to realize why.

To: bubs <3

are you at your dorm right now?

From: bubs <3

yeah

To: bubs <3

okay, did you want any food or anything?? i can drop by the dumpling place or tteokbokki stand on the way to yours!

From: bubs <3

its fine, see you soon?

To: bubs <3

yeah, i’ll be there in 15

just gotta let the guys know!

Beomgyu waited for any other texts from you to come through, but was left with the same screen. No “thanks”, no “stay safe” text, not even one emoji that could possibly express some form of affection. At first he thought you got into an accident of some disastrous sort, spiking his worries. Now, he can feel the worry levels rising again, this time for himself.

What if you wanted to break up with him?

He thought your two a half months of being together had been perfect so far, he hadn’t messed up once. Sure, he teased you about the way you sang his songs sometimes, or the times you needed his help with your perilla leaf, or even when you couldn’t beat Hueningkai in arm wrestling. But he thought it was cute! He thought you liked him annoying you since you dished it back much worse than he did–BUT WHAT IF YOU DIDN’T?

Oh no.

He had to beg you to not leave him, he was not ready to let you go, he hadn’t even taken you to meet Toto yet.

You sat by your front door, resting your head beside the door frame as you waited for Beomgyu to show up. You had no idea how much time had passed since you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at your phone after his last message got through to you. You’d left your phone on your bed and used your remaining energy to trudge your way to the front door. You were tired.

True to your texts to your boyfriend, nothing had happened. And it was okay. You weren’t, but the vague subject of “it” very much was. Sort of.

Nothing inherently bad happened to you: no one spilt their coffee on you, no mean people at work, not even a long red light while driving home. It had just been one of those days where the world felt a little heavier on you. You honestly haven't felt this way in a while. Not since before meeting Beomgyu, who made you smile more than you thought was possible. But alas, mental illness isn’t cured so easily.

You’d gotten home from work less than thirty minutes ago, but you had yet to feel any relief yet. Not knowing what to do and not wanting to be alone, you reached out to the boy who makes you feel lighter effortlessly. You’ve only been together for two and a half months, but they have been the happiest two and a half months you’ve experienced–cheesiness be damned.

Frantic knocks on the front door motivated you to get up for your boyfriend, the tightness in your chest already getting ready to loosen at the thought of Beomgyu standing on the other side.

You could see your boyfriend’s startled face when you opened the door, most likely from the fact that he had barely taken his fist off the wood when you’d whipped it open.

“Y-Y/n! I got here as fast as I could! I know what you’re gonna say, and I just wanna say first that I’m so sorry for teasing you so much–you just make the cutest facial expressions when you get annoyed and I didn’t realize you might have actually cared that I said Hyuka’s arms are bigger than your mom–”

You stared at the boy rambling in front of you, waving one arm in the air as chaotically as his words. However, you also saw in his other hand was a small bunch of flowers–flowers that looked suspiciously like the ones planted in your main lobby’s centerpieces. The poor things still had clumps of dirt on their ends and were staining your boyfriend’s fingers, but he didn’t show any indication of caring as he was still staring at you intently, unshed tears lining his eyes.

This was your boyfriend. Your sweet, loud, silly boyfriend who never failed to make you feel lighter. Effortlessly.

Quickly, you wrapped your arms around Beomgyu’s waist and held him tightly. You felt his arms secure themselves around you automatically. You only realized he’d done it without thinking when he stopped talking and could feel his heart rate suddenly pick up after a few seconds in each other’s arms.

“I don’t wanna break up with you, you loser,” you muttered into his neck and chest.

Beomgyu breathed out. “You don’t?”

“No, I just…really wanted to see you.”

All you could manage was burying yourself even deeper into your boyfriend’s embrace. For the first time today, you felt like you could finally trust someone enough to take hold of the weight from the world and bear it with you. As a result, you slowly leaned against Beomgyu even more and let him really hold you, feeling as if you didn’t have to hold yourself up now that you knew help was here.

Beomgyu tightened his grip on you, when he felt you sigh into his neck. His mind flashed back to the messages you sent. Sure he was relieved that you weren’t trying to leave him, but now he was back to square one: worrying about you.

“Y/n?” He whispered into your hair.

“Hm?”

“I…I really like you, y/n…” Beomgyu admitted quietly. “You said nothing happened, but I know you’re not okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but please tell me so I can fix it.”

He felt your head burrow even further into him for a second and was about to say…well he doesn’t quite know what to say, he’s just so damn worried about you. But he ended up not needing to say anything. Because you had instead pushed yourself away from his embrace and grabbed his hands, not minding the dirt gathering on your fingers from his pathetic flowers.

“Let’s head inside, Gyu.”

And you led him through, not letting go of his hand once. Not even when he reached to take off his shoes. You instead stuck to him, as if you couldn’t bear to be physically apart from him for one second. He didn’t mind. He felt the same way.

When you both made it to your room, Beomgyu placed the crushed flowers on your bedside table and laid down on your bed. It only took him a second to open his arms for you to snuggle into him once again, shrinking yourself even more than you had before. He massaged the back of your neck under your hair, a habit he randomly developed with you to soothe both you and himself, and felt you release another big sigh.

Though this felt really nice, Beomgyu couldn’t feel at ease. This was completely new territory for the both of you. Sure, you had many quiet moments together. But your silences together were more so ones of peace. This one felt more like…an absence. As if he was missing something and just waiting for you to fill it in again.

“Thanks for the flowers. I’m sorry I worried you so much,” you whispered, your voice so low he wouldn’t have been able to hear had it not been for the lack of space between you. You sounded so, well, small.

And as much as Beomgyu wanted to tell you it was okay, he knew he couldn’t. Because if he said it was, you’d think you could do it again. And he really did not want to go through feeling like this again. Others would call him dramatic, but he calls it his Y/n Intuition. You may be the light in his life, but he knows all about hiding your real feelings behind a smile.

“I just…I don’t think about what I’m saying or doing sometimes when I get…like this…”

He can practically hear the struggle you’re going through as you try to communicate with him.

“What is this, bubs?” Beomgyu asked patiently, prompting you to keep trying.

Taking a breath, you took the time to sort out your thoughts before saying, “Somedays I just wake up…duller I guess.”

“Duller?”

You nodded hesitantly. “Like the colors are fading, my days all become the same, and even though I just woke up I’m so tired. And I just…don’t get the point anymore.”

Beomgyu tried his hardest to not flinch at your confession.

“I’m so tired, Beomgyu, I can’t bring myself to do anything. And I can’t want to do anything either. Just the thought of it….” You shook your head back and forth, as if to erase what you’d just said. “Agh, I hate myself sometimes. I’m sorry, that’s so lazy. I’m not like this most of the time, I promise, Gyu. Some days are just harder than others.”

Beomgyu frowned deeply at your denial to yourself. He didn’t like hearing the things you thought about unconsciously, but even more, he didn’t like the way you talked about yourself.

“Why do you talk about yourself like that?” He asked, hands still.

You raised your head to look up at him. “Like what?”

“‘Lazy’. You’re not lazy, y/n.”

“That’s what being lazy is, dude,” you scoffed, letting out a light laugh.

But Beomgyu shook his head. “That’s not the root of the issue–there’s a difference between being lazy and overwhelmed. It happens to me too, you can’t help that sometimes. But you’re. Not. Lazy, y/n. You just need help.”

He watched as your eyes widened at him, before you frowned and scoffed, mostly aimed toward yourself. “I’m, uh, not very good at asking for help.”

“You did a good job of getting me here,” Beomgyu smiled.

You shook your head at him. “But I wasn’t trying to get you here for help. I…” you sighed out, laying your head back in Beomgyu’s neck. “I just wanted you.”

With a new soft feeling taking over, Beomgyu nearly burst into tears for the second time that night. He felt things in his heart and stomach he had never felt before, and he didn’t want it to ever go away. God, he couldn’t put a proper name to how he felt, but he wanted you too.

“I missed you today, “ he whispered into the quiet room.

“Yeah?” you whispered back.

“Mhm. Practice went long today, but it felt even longer because I couldn’t focus on anything but that goodnight text you sent me last night.”

“It wasn’t anything special, Gyu,” you said, but he could tell that you were blushing, which made him let out a soft chuckle.

“I swear, you have such a way with words, bubs, I think you chose the wrong profession,” he joked lightly, feeling the way your lips curved against his neck. “But it’s not always the words you say that matter to me, it’s the fact that you say anything at all.”

Beomgyu’s hand that had been rubbing the back of your neck moved down to squeeze your waist again.

He said softly, “I know it’s hard for you to see what the point is some days, I feel like that sometimes too. But I just have to remind myself of the things that keep me happy.”

“Like Toto?” you chimed in, a small smile creeping up your lips as Beomgyu snorted at your lame joke to stop your tears from coming.

“I was thinking more about you, but yes, I guess he counts too.”

You gasped playfully, “Wow, some pet owner you are.”

He just shrugged in response. “It was either that or a being a good boyfriend, bubs.”

“Well,” you sighed heavily, “Even though I feel bad for your bird, I have to say I am grateful you chose the second option. I mean, look at these beautiful flowers you got me. They’re so authentic, they still have the dirt from my lobby on them.”

Beomgyu merely smiled, before saying, “It’s not that hard of a decision—I’ll always choose you, bubs.”

He felt a groan reverberate off of his neck from your whining form and tried to stop the laugh from bubbling out of his chest, knowing it would distract you from his point. Meanwhile you were too busy trying to fight off your embarrassment.

“Oh my god, Gyu, you’re so cheesy!” You try and nestle into your boyfriend further to hide from him, but fail as you’re already as close as can be. And with the fact that Beomgyu does not put up with it this time.

“No y/n, I mean it!” Your boyfriend pushed you away gently but firmly to make you see his gaze that was filled with determination and sincerity. “I know it’s only been a couple of months, but you need to know this because I can’t see myself not being with you anytime in the near future. Meaning there are going to be more days like this, whether it’s you feeling off, or me! While I try to let you know just how much I care about you everyday, I want you to remember especially on the hard days that you are so important; to the people you call family, to the people you work with, to the people you smile at, to our friends, to my family, to me. God, y/n, you mean the world to me.”

You could feel tears start to build up on your lash line. Usually you’d try and hide away when you started to get emotional, but between Beomgyu’s firm hands holding you and his own watery eyes staring intently into yours, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“While I want you to be the happiest person everyday of your life and never have to cry, I know personally how that isn’t healthy or fair of me to put on you,” Beomgyu said, his voice starting to become wobbly, “So whenever you feel like this, I want you to know that I understand. And if you’ll have me, I’ll be here.”

The tears were already falling, from both your eyes and his, but you didn’t care. All you could feel was Beomgyu’s heart beating under your hand as you slowly moved it to rest on his chest. Your heart rate matched his easily, speeding up just the tiniest bit as Beomgyu moved his hand to rest on top of yours.

“Gyu…”

“Please have me, Y/n. I really, really like you. And I want to be here, no matter what kind of day it is,” he whispered now, the words slowly getting lower the closer you inched to him.

You let out the smallest laugh, as if the peaceful feeling filling your stomach was floating through your lungs to now fill the small space between you and your boyfriend's lips. The laugh was a tinkly, kind sound that seemed to have reached Beomgyu, because the tears running down his cheeks were overtaken by his dimples you so famously adored. Your laugh sounded out, but the smile on your face remained as you started to cup his cheek and lightly trace over his dimple.

“God…you mean the world to me too, Beomgyu,” you whispered.

Your voice sent shivers down Beomgyu’s spine, and the way he sighed in awe at your words made you lean forward to close the space between you two, your lips finally connecting after what felt like too long.

His hands shifted to tugging you even closer as he sighed in the kiss. You hummed against his lips as well, relishing in the way he deepened the kiss, a bit desperately as if he couldn’t possibly get enough of you. You couldn’t complain, as you felt the exact same. And as you felt the connection between you both deepen, you could also feel the tightness in your chest melt away.

While you knew your problems/feelings weren’t something Beomgyu could kiss away, you knew he would understand. You knew he would be there. And you knew he would care.

And for now, that was enough to get you out of bed the next morning with a smile, ready to take on another day.

(additional) notes: just wanted to say that while this beomgyu isn’t real, i hope y’all know that everything this one said is still true. if y’all need anything, message me or any of the ones mentioned and watch some to do :)

#tomorrow x tomorrow #txt #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff

366 notes · View notes