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sunkendreams · 4 months

Text

kickstart my heart.

REQUEST SUBMITTED BY @darklylucid

“Paul’s always been flirty, and you’ve never really taken it seriously. After a minor incident on the boardwalk, Paul decides that he’ll make you take him seriously, one way or another.”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 6.8K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, jealous!paul, paul is really flirty/touchy, oral sex (f!receiving), spit as lube, choking (m!receiving), hair-pulling, paul is definitely a mess, dirty talk, pet names (baby, girl, sweet girl), cowgirl, vaginal sex, scratching, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breastplay (paul loves your tits), fingering, clothes ripping, groping, nasty sex, manhandling, paul isn’t gentle

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | i’m back and literally going insane for the lost boys ,,, thank you to @darklylucid for requesting this !!! first time writing Paul and it was so, so much fun! dwayne is up next, so prepare yourselves for that! also working on a poly!lost boys x reader series ,,, so yeah!

A cloudless dusk fell over Santa Carla, sky littered with millions of stars that hung above, providing a rather attractive backdrop to a less-than-savory town. The boardwalk was more alive than ever — it transformed with nightfall, becoming a den of depravity and mystique, coupled with the liveliness of families and the carnival atmosphere.

You were situated atop a blanket, feet partially buried within the cool sand as you sat on the beach. A concert took place many feet away as you watched people clamor from the staircase to the growing crowd. The rancor of music reverberated throughout the air, accompanied by the cheering and applause from onlookers.

Saltwater lapped at the gray shoreline, moon hanging overhead to light the way. You always came to the boardwalk at night — you made plenty of friends, but you happened to have a peculiar bond with a pack of vampires. It wasn’t intentional — you never meant to befriend them like you had, but you didn’t regret a thing.

The familiar roar of motorbikes resonated in the near-distance, splitting past swarms of carnival-goers as they descended the steps. It never took very long for them to find you, bearing down upon you like a pack of hyenas.

Marko’s laughter filled the air as he and Dwayne pulled up along the terrace above you, parking their bikes next to the length of black grating. David and Paul followed suit, hauling Star and Laddie in-tow. You were more focused on the gleam of the moonlight hitting the water and the seashell you’d been turning over within your palm.

A thump resonated from your left side, and you nearly shrieked, jumping from your own flesh as Paul landed atop the blanket. He scooped a finger against your chin, plump lips pulled back to reveal his pearlescent smirk. A faint aroma of stale cologne and hints of marijuana clung to him, but that was commonplace.

“Hey baby,” Paul crooned, kicking one leg up against his chest as the rest of the boys lingered around the balcony, save for Marko. He descended from above like a cat leaping toward perch, landing in the sand with grace. His presence was intentional, solely to agitate Paul. “Where’ve you been?”

Paul’s constant flirtation was something that you were used to — painfully so. You always wrote it off as something casual, a facet deeply ingrained into his wild and spontaneous personality. Paul often flirted with anyone that had a pulse and smelled appeasing, and that included you. It was fun to watch, but sometimes you wished that he meant it.

With a huff, you attempted to swat his hand away, but he was swift, arm resting atop his propped knee as he idly bounced his head to the music. “I’ve been here,” You mused, offering a kind greeting to Marko. “Where else am I supposed to be?” You inquired, tracing the pad of your thumb over the seashell’s ridges.

Paul’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I can think of a few places,” He mused, plucking at the top of your blouse. “You gonna come down tonight?” He asked, referring to you joining them in the cave. You normally went there with the group if they were satiated and fed. You were still human, after all — being in a nest full of vampires probably wasn’t the safest or smartest idea.

“Maybe,” You shrugged, feeling Paul perch his chin atop your shoulder. The physical aspect of his flirting always made your heart race, thrumming just underneath your collarbone. Your gaze flickered toward him, brows furrowing together. “What?”

“Please?” Paul insisted, lips twitching into a Cheshire smirk, teeth and all. “Wanna hang out with you.” Of all the pack, you were closest to Paul, but sometimes, you didn’t want to be. His constant touching and lascivious nature often left you wistful and confused, aching for something that he couldn’t give you.

“Don’t listen to him,” Marko interjected, busy ogling a wandering group of beachgoers — a gaggle of younger women hanging off of the arms of burly men. It smelled like potential dinner for him. “He found a guitar.” That was all you needed to know.

A giggle escaped you as Paul threw a handful of sand toward Marko, which happened to land against his patchwork jacket and golden curls. His visage contorted into a sour expression, glaring daggers at Paul before he stood up, shaking all of it out in the process.

“You found a guitar?” You asked, watching as Paul pushed your legs flat against the blanket, allowing him to rest his head within your lap. Admittedly, your heartbeat betrayed you — you wanted to be annoyed by the gesture, but instead, you let it go.

To Paul, you smelled outrageously wonderful — better than anything he’d had before. It was an amalgamation of softer, floral perfumes coupled with whatever wash you used. He detected peach and vanilla, sweeter aromas that clung to you like a pleasant haze.

His hair was akin to that of a lion’s mane, viciously unruly as it flew around him like a halo. “Yeah,” Paul replied, somewhat distracted by your scent. “Y’know, I didn’t find it. I stole it from these amateurs up by the empty lot.” Yoo assumed that these ‘amateurs’ were no longer alive, either.

“Aren’t you considered an amateur too, Paul?” You mused, reclining back upon your hands, letting yourself sink into the soft, white sand. As you glanced down toward your lap, Paul was staring at you for what felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t discern if it was out of offense or something else.

“You’re gorgeous,” Paul mumbled, tracing one of his ring-adorned digits over the expanse of your clothed stomach. “Lookin’ good enough to eat.” He mused, and while you would’ve initially brushed off that comment, he said it with a peculiar warmth.

Goosebumps erupted along the column of your spine, causing you to shift slightly. His finger didn’t stop moving, flicking around the ruffled cotton. He wished that it was your flesh — warm and soft, waiting to invite him in. You never took any of his flirtation to heart — in truth, it might’ve been his fault, but he wanted to make you see.

You belonged to him.

With a soft exhale, you attempted to mask your shudder of delight, absentmindedly nibbling along your lower lip. “Very original,” You uttered, twisting away from his touch as if it would incinerate you. It was all meaningless — mindless sweet nothings spoken from a very precocious individual. “You’re a genius.” You teased, voice becoming slightly sardonic.

“You are,” He insisted, comfortable within your plush lap. Your scent did little to ease his feelings, overwhelming him like a thick haze. “Baby, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages. Where’ve you been all my life?” Paul sighed, and he didn’t attempt to touch you again out of respect.

“Right,” You uttered, masking your growing agitation. Paul could have anyone he wanted — and he always did. Girls at the boardwalk swooned over him, they were always easy prey, and he indulged himself plenty of times. You were nothing more than a friend, you weren’t desirable, nor would he ever want you. “You’ve told me that before.”

Paul visibly deflated, withering away like a shriveling flower — you really weren’t convinced.

Unfortunately for Paul, you were blissfully oblivious to any of his advances, but then again, he could understand why you were skeptical. Flirtation was a natural instinct for him. While he kept his head in your lap, he shamelessly opted to rove through your thoughts. It was cheating, sure, but he was itching to know.

“Paul,” Dwayne’s voice cut through his state of contemplation, rousing the sandy-haired blonde from his stupor. Paul’s head lifted off of your lap, hastily sitting upright as he glanced up at the terrace. “We’re going for a ride.” He briefly nodded towards you as a form of greeting, swinging Laddie up onto his bike.

“You’re coming, right?” Paul asked, voice invigorated with a sense of giddiness and excitement. He got a little wild around you sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t accustomed to by now. “Do I have to beg you or something?” He groaned, trapping you between his arms.

“You’re pathetic!” Marko snickered, jumping down to snatch you up. Even though he was the smallest of the pack, his strength was often unrivaled, save for Dwayne. You let out a startled gasp as Marko hoisted you up over his shoulder, heckling Paul in the process.

Paul bristled with anger — typically, he could excuse Marko’s antics, but not this time. A white-hot rage blistered through him, crawling across his flesh as he attempted to shake that gold away from his eyes. A snarl escaped him, and he made sure to grab your stuff as a courtesy, leaping up over the bannister.

By the time Paul had landed on the rickety wood of the boardwalk, Marko had placed you on solid ground, unable to bite back the impish smirk on his features. He was deliberately getting under Paul’s skin, and he knew it — knew all about his feelings for you, too. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more enjoyable.

Like a bat out of hell, Paul swarmed the curly-headed blonde with a vengeance, countenance contorted into a look of sheer irritation and borderline rage. “You’re dead, Marko!” He growled, lip curled in disdain.

“Sorry, Paul. You made it too easy,” Marko mused, narrowly missing a rather unsavory blow from Paul, who yanked at his jacket instead. “Jesus! Easy, I was only messing around!” He snapped, with the two bickering and locked in what was supposedly a heated argument.

“Paul,” You gently tugged on his coat, attempting to steer him away from potential violence. “It’s okay, he was just playing around.” A soft sigh escaped you as you played mediator for two vampires, brows knitting together as Paul stepped back with a huff of irritation.

“Enough.” David barked, glaring daggers as he glanced between Paul and Marko. The last thing that he wanted was for them to expose themselves on the boardwalk — it was bound to happen if they didn’t stop the horseplay. With a visible frown, he revved his motorbike, signaling for the others to fall in line.

Jealousy was an ugly thing — unpleasant, often festering inside of oneself until it rotted away at their very core. It didn’t suit Paul whatsoever. He suffered from a bout of such a potent disease, despising the way Marko had touched you, held you over his shoulder. He was usually open about sharing with his brothers, but not you — you were completely off-limits.

Wordlessly, Paul sulked towards his motorbike, sitting down with a begrudging huff. You felt inclined to follow, standing beside him with an empathetic expression. “Are you going to let me on? We’re still hanging out, remember?” You asked, voice softening an octave.

Paul felt a little better — but not completely. His ego was momentarily maimed by Marko’s antics, but it was a wound that would dissipate with time. Fortunately, you were a worthy cure as he moved forward, letting you on the back of his bike. “Saved your stuff, too.” He mused, feeling you squeeze your arms around his midsection.

“You’re my hero,” You chuckled, trying to make him feel less agitated. “Thanks.” With Paul recovering from the scuffle, David motioned for the rest of the conclave to follow, whipping his bike around onto the stretch of the boardwalk that led out onto the shoreline.

You remembered the first time Paul took you for a ride — and you very nearly had a heart attack. He drove as if it’d be his last day on earth, but you’d gotten so used to it that you stopped being a backseat driver and let him do whatever he wanted.

He was talkative and boisterous by-nature, which is why you became so concerned when he didn’t talk to you very much on the ride to the cave. Paul was normally extremely egregious and outgoing, something that you loved about him, but his bout of silence was making you nervous. You wondered if Marko had wounded his pride that badly.

As you pulled up to the cave, the boys hopped off of their motorbikes, and even Paul didn’t really wait up for you this time — something was wrong. Marko noticed, lingering at the fringes of the cavern as he glanced at you, promptly disappearing down the rocky incline. You were left to make your way inside alone, no Paul at your side or helping you down.

Once inside, you felt awkward, more than usual. Being the lone human in a nest full of vampires would always bring a little tension, but without Paul around, you felt hollow and unnerved. David regarded you with his typical stare — cynical and somewhat indifferent, and Dwayne was always solemn, much warmer than the other.

“Where did Paul go?” You asked, and it was Laddie who pointed you in the right direction, pointing toward one of the rocky tunnels that led off into their ‘rooms’, of sorts. You often referred to them as the metaphorical coffins, but Star found it to be in poor taste.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. “Thanks.” You’d been in Paul’s ‘room’ plenty of times before, but he rarely disappeared and left you to fend for yourself. With the coordination of a baby deer who’d just learned how to take their first steps, you clamored up the uneven terrain, holding onto the rope to guide yourself up.

When you found Paul, he was lazily strumming on a guitar — the one he’d ‘found’. He had one leg kicked up, propped against the rock, the other tucked towards his chest as he played a few chords. The lack of acknowledgement sent off several red flags as you swept aside the makeshift ‘door’ — an old, velvet curtain repurposed from the hotel wreckage.

“Thanks for waiting on me,” You uttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, which captured his attention. He smelled you long before you’d entered, prompting him to turn his head, lion’s mane of hair disheveled and tousled from being pressed against a pillow. “You know, if I knew you were going to sulk around this whole time, I would’ve gone to the comic store instead.”

Paul scoffed, countenance twisting into a look of agitation, which was so unlike him. It shocked you to see him behave with such indifference, something that went against the grain of his character. “Maybe Marko can go with you.” He uttered, playing another melancholy chord on the guitar.

That’s what this was about?

“You’re not serious,” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “Is this about what happened at the beach? Paul, I’m not a mind-reader — I didn’t know Marko was going to do that.” He was beginning to really piss you off, which hadn’t happened yet.

For all of the meaningless flirting he’d done, the constant teasing and toying, you were vigilant. You’d tried to keep your chin up through it all. You couldn’t fathom why he was so upset about Marko’s harmless stunt — it was all playful. It was something Paul would’ve done, truth be told. Paul kept quiet, reading your mind as he surveyed your rageful inner monologue.

Instead, you were met with a wall of silence, and that made you frustrated. If Paul was going to behave like a child, you’d treat him like one. With a huff of annoyance, you waved your hand in dismissal. Your night was mostly ruined, but you figured you’d go home and try to get some sleep.

You gave him another chance to talk — it was quiet. “Fine. I’m going home, Paul.” You sighed, turning around as you prepared to make the climb back down. With a shrug of your shoulders, you barely passed through the curtain before something rustled behind you.

Just as you grabbed the rope, Paul was in front of you with inhuman speed, and he immediately snatched at your hips, dragging you away. You were protesting, interrogating him about what exactly was going on, but he persisted, locking you in his arms as he pushed you up against the wall.

“I don’t want Marko touching you,” He murmured, brows knitting together. “I want you all to myself.” You couldn’t tell if this was playful Paul trying to flirt with you again — his tone sounded so different. “You’re mine, baby.” Paul clicked his tongue, brazenly groping at your waist.

“Wh— What?” Disbelief seeped into your voice as you shook your head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me again?” Before you could get in another word, his mouth was devouring yours, vigorous and completely needy. Jesus, he tasted good — without pause, your hands flew to grab his hair in fistfuls.

A desperate whimper erupted from your mouth, buried and lost within his ravenous kiss. You needed to know what had gotten into him — why now? You began to yank on his hair in an attempt to get him to cease, and when he did, you appeared more agitated than happy. Paul normally didn’t get this reaction when he kissed someone.

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” You huffed, gaze practically pleading with him as he held you close, inhaling another gust of your saccharine scent. “First you’re flirting, then you’re mad, and now this. What’s gotten into you?” With a pointed stare, Paul relented, but he didn’t move away from you.

“You don’t take my flirting seriously,” He countered, brows furrowing together. “You don’t want to? Fine, but I’m gonna make you see how bad I want you.” Paul murmured, voice husky and alluring enough to make your knees wobble. He licked his lower lip, one hand beginning to drift underneath your blouse.

This didn’t feel real — whenever you desperately tried to search for even an ounce of playfulness, there wasn’t any. Paul was completely serious about this, and it made you weak, warmth beginning to pool between your thighs as you nodded several times over. “Okay,” You breathed, itching for more. “Then don’t stop.”

“M’gonna fuck you,” Paul smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened in the dimly-lit alcove. “You mind if I eat you out, too?” He asked, matter-of-factly. His unruly tangle of dusty-blonde tresses were stiff with age-old product, making it somewhat coarse whenever you went to grab and pull on it.

Did you mind? Laughter bubbled within your chest as your lips parted, expression incredulous as you nodded several times over. “Whatever you want,” He was gorgeous — in that crazed and unhinged sort of way. Paul stared at you as if you were both a delicious slab of meat and the most beautiful thing he’d seen. “I want you.” You exhaled.

That was all it took for Paul to claw at your clothing as if it were nothing, fingers excitedly ruffling your blouse as he yanked it up, causing you to squeak. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t care whatsoever. Those veined, dexterous hands ripped your blouse off of you, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

He was pushing you towards his bed, which was only really used for salacious activities, and nothing more. It was a colossal mess, the scent stale and reminded you of damp rock as he got you on your back, crawling on top of you with a devilish grin.

“Fuck, baby,” Paul sighed, slicing your brassiere off with a simple stroke of his fingers, flinging the tattered remains elsewhere. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body.” He murmured, lips sloppily trailing over your neck and collarbone as he rucked your skirt up towards your hips. Your mewls and whimpers were like music to his ears.

“Paul,” You groaned, hips rocking forward as you ground yourself against him, meeting his groin. His jean-clad erection pressed into your thigh, completely and utterly shameless. He kissed wherever he pleased, stopping to admire your breasts as they rose and fell with your excitable gasps.

Trapping a nipple within his mouth, he greedily sucked and nibbled at your swollen mound, intermingling such ministrations with eager strokes of his tongue. “Pretty tits, too.” He guffawed, playfully biting at your breast as you clutched onto his hair. “S’all mine.” Paul huffed, kneading into your pliant chest with his other hand.

A pang of arousal coursed throughout your body, striking right between your thighs. Warmth coalesced between your legs, manifesting as a stickiness that oozed from your cunt. Paul nearly growled at the smell, which was calling to him like a siren’s song. He was tempted to rip away and go right to the source, but he loved your chest just as much.

Suckling on your breast, Paul promptly provided such attention to the other, greedily biting at the soft, pliant flesh. The way you bucked and squirmed underneath him was all the more enticing, cerulean hues fluttering toward your blissed-out countenance. You tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a satisfied hiss.

“Could stay here forever,” Paul mused, pressing messy kisses atop your perky tits, and he seemed to get a little ahead of himself in the moment. Kisses soon devolved into love-bites and sucking as he found a patch of skin between your breasts. He left a string of hickeys there, beyond content with his handiwork. “Perfect.”

“Jesus,” You groaned, a mess of moans and desperate, pathetic whimpers as you wrangled with his lion-like mane of hair. “You’re bad.” With a soft hiccup, you felt his hands knead into your hips, prepared to go elsewhere if you let him.

“I can be worse, baby.” Paul prompted, eyes swarming with that familiar golden glow, ringed with a red halo around the edge of his irises. He growled, capturing your mouth with his as he kissed you, ravenous and swift as he began to make out with you. He was between your legs, arms locked on either side of you.

With a wanton moan, your hands clamored from his tresses toward his coat, wanting him to shed a few layers, too. It was only fair. Paul complied, whipping his dark coat off with an excitable haste, peeling away the mesh shirt he wore underneath. Your palms splayed out across his broad shoulders, warm flesh melding with his icy temperature.

He was well-muscled, poised — he reminded you of a coiled jungle cat, prepared to pounce. You reveled in the smattering of hair peppered across his chiseled chest, leading toward the sandy-hued happy trail that slipped underneath his tattered white jeans. His teeth brazenly bit at your lower lip, blood oozing onto his tongue.

Between the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth, Paul shuddered, lapping up any pearl of crimson that he could, hands tearing your skirt asunder. The unfortunate remains of fabric were yanked away as he let it fall to the floor, groping and kneading into you, wherever his hands took him.

You’d never been kissed like this — as if he threatened to steal every wisp of air from your lungs, hungering for you in every imaginable way. Your heart hammered against your collarbone, thrumming erratically as you hitched a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he kept you locked in a barrage of kisses.

“Fuck,” Paul groaned, licking at your lower lip. “You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste,” He insisted, ring-adorned digits curling into the waistband of your panties. He wrestled them down until they were hitched around your knees, but he simply tore at them like the rest of your clothes. “Spread your legs for me.”

It was your turn to go sheepish on him, deliberately parting your legs at a sluggish pace. You weren’t sure as to why you’d become shy, but Paul didn’t seem to care, swiping at a tendril of drool that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Without missing a beat, his hand slipped between your legs, two digits swiping up along your wet cunt.

He gathered your slick, placing his fingers into his mouth with a satisfactory groan. The sight of him sucking your arousal away nearly made you melt. “Almost as good as your blood, sweet girl.” Paul chuckled, absentmindedly licking his lower lip as he settled onto the mattress, pressed flat atop the surface as he gathered your legs into each of his hands.

Paul slathered several kisses against your inner thighs, but he kept it short and sweet — he was here for one thing. You expected him to give you some sort of warning beforehand. “Paul, are you — O-Oh. Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, a strangled gasp escaping you as your back arched off of the mattress.

There was no pause or waiting — Paul’s impulsivity got the best of him. He was on you like a starving animal, desperate for anything he could get. His tongue pushed past your slick folds, silkily lapping over the length of your slit, savoring your taste. It was hot — you felt as if everything were set ablaze as a pleasant heat crawled across you, from head to toe.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, body electrified by his touch. Paul’s fingers greedily dug into your pliant thighs, tossing either of your legs over his freckled shoulders as he lapped at your sweet core. His actions were swift and fueled by lust, driven by instinct as he jerked you forward.

Your stomach churned with anticipation, bleeding heat from between your legs as your thighs squeezed at his head. You felt that immense mane of hair tickle your soft flesh, goosebumps erupting along your body. Paul grunted, face buried deep within your cunt as he ate you out, messy and sloppy as could be.

“M’not Jesus,” Paul slurred, grinning like a shark as he nipped at your leg. “You taste so good, baby.” He huffed, the words spoken through the husked voice of a ravenous vampire as he returned to lapping at your poor, needy slit. Each drop of nectar that you provided to him served to momentarily dull the ache within his throat.

You kept writhing and squirming, shamelessly bucking your hips forward. He pinned you down with one hand, head spinning as your scent wafted around him like an inescapable haze. “Paul!” You mewled, practically quivering like a leaf as your cunt pathetically clenched around nothing at all.

Paul was a good sport, able to flow with the constant jolting of your hips into his mouth. Though, it only served to fuel the fire as he continued to hastily drag his tongue along your cunt, slavering for your taste. You moaned, tapering off into a myriad of sweet whimpers as your hands relocated, reaching for his hair.

The cool metal of his rings left imprints behind atop your thighs, various patterns pressed into your flesh. You were aching, body feeling feverishly hot as you bucked into his face again, feeling him clamp down on you as he held you still. His mouth was divine — it was sloppy and full of an unrestrained need.

As your digits twined into his hair, you began to pull and tug, using his unruly tresses as an anchor. Paul didn’t care in the slightest — he found it unbelievably hot as you jerked and tugged, back arched into his ministrations. He only stopped to spit a wad of saliva onto your swollen slit, body shaking with sly laughter when you gasped.

“Makin’ sure you’re ready for me.” Paul teased, but it was under false pretenses — he just wanted to spit on your cunt. He didn’t hesitate, diving back in for more, assaulting your clit with a barrage of kitten-licks and gentle suckling, enough for you to sputter.

With every movement you made, Paul would simply coax you back onto his tongue with inhuman strength, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. Your hand grappled with his coarse tresses, the other digging into his shoulder. Your nails sank into his flesh, and Paul didn’t care whatsoever.

Arousal pooled between your legs, leaving behind a sticky mess that he was all too eager to clean up. It was only when he began to use that tiny edge of teeth that you were soaring, choking on a whimper as it bubbled within the back of your throat.

Your body was screaming for release, orgasm beginning to mount and build as white-hot tension flew through you, consuming you like a tidal wave. Paul could sense it, burying himself in your pretty cunt as if it would be the last meal he’d ever have.

He switched between the eager, broad lapping of his tongue with sucking on your clit, making you claw at his shoulder blade. One hand repositioned itself, splayed out across your pelvis as his thumb slipped to the hood of your cunt, playing with your clit as the rest of his mouth lapped elsewhere.

“Paul, Paul,” Paul. It was the only word that rolled from your tongue, doing very little to mask the sound of your pleasure. With a wanton moan, you felt that hot coil of tension within your stomach begin to unfurl as you steadily reached your climax. You were suffocating him between your legs — conveniently, he didn’t need to breathe. “Fuck, Paul! M’close!”

“Cum for me,” His encouragement was all that you needed, that little push forward as he backed off, peppering kisses against your clit as you came. It was blinding, and you swore you saw stars. “That’s it,” Paul crooned, moving to clean you up. “Atta girl, baby.” He did very little to mask his eagerness in lapping up the remnants of your orgasm.

He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, kissing his way up your body until his mouth connected with yours. You could taste yourself and the somewhat bitter twang of copper within his saliva as you let your tongue slip into his mouth. Paul groaned, grabbing at your haunches as he moved to lay beside you.

“Are you tired?” You mused, your own chest heaving with exhilarated sighs as Paul effortlessly wrangled you closer, eyes glittering with desire. You were wrong to ask that question as he raised his eyebrows.

“What kinda question is that, baby? You’re getting on top,” Paul smirked, gesturing toward his lap. His erection was practically itching for release, straining against the front of his white jeans. “You’re going for a ride.” He purred, snatching at your hips as he hoisted you on top of his lap, letting you get comfortable.

Paul lounged against the mountain of pillows beneath him, hands splayed out atop your waist. You savored the sensation of his rings biting into your flesh, and you immediately scrambled to unzip his pants, wrestling with his belt as you freed his cock. His hardened length fell against your stomach, tip oozing with a bead of precum.

You shivered, gazing down at your vampiric paramour, who stared at you with those vibrant, cerulean hues — as clear as a summer’s day. Paul tilted forward, lips reaching for yours as he planted a rather lazy, messy kiss against your mouth. “M’ready.” You murmured, feeling him lift you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

With bated breath, you felt your insides turn to mush, reigniting the spark of lust as Paul let you sink onto his cock. A fire burned bright within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as Paul’s head fell back slightly, letting out a series of groans and softer grunts. “Fuck,” He growled, feeling your palms rest against his abdomen. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

Liquid heat festered within the pit of your stomach as you gasped, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted yourself. “Paul!” You moaned, attempting to stifle the many noises you made with the back of your palm, but he quickly swatted your hand away. He was bigger than you thought he’d be — a pleasant surprise.

“Wanna hear you scream my name.” Paul huffed, rubbing circles into your hips as he began to move you. Superhuman strength and stamina certainly had roles to play in this as he guided you up and down in short, rhythmic movements. You liked that he manhandled you a little bit, one hand on your waist as the other grabbed at your chest.

A simpering moan left you as he guided you up his cock, stopping halfway before easing you back down again. Lewd noises reverberated throughout the alcove, accompanied by your sweet whimpers and his grunts and groans. You were barely given time to get used to his pattern before he was bucking up into you with the indomitable strength of a god.

There was no opportunity for you to catch your breath, watching as Paul snatched your wrists, redirecting them towards his pretty neck. That surprised you, but you didn’t protest, feeling the taut muscle tense underneath your palms, jugular bobbing as you began to squeeze.

He moaned.

Unable to bite back the smile that stretched across your features, you held onto his neck, digits flexing and tensing as you continued to apply pressure. Paul’s head fell backwards just a little bit, steadying you with one hand as he fucked into you at an erratic pace. Flesh clashed against flesh, causing you to whimper as you rolled up and down along his cock.

“You like that?” You whispered through a string of blissful whines, gaze bright with desire as he nodded several times over. “Your cock feels so good, Paul.” You huffed, teeth snagging across your lower lip as you began to let your thumbs trace along his perfect jawline. His weeks-old stubble scratched at your silken flesh.

“Little harder, girl,” Paul encouraged, wanting you to really wrangle his throat. He didn’t need to breathe anyway — that made it all the more enjoyable. He savored your hesitation — his sweet little human, afraid of harming the big, bad vampire. He smirked, lifting his eyebrows. “C’mon baby, squeeze.”

Fuck — he was going to be the death of you. Your cunt clenched and throbbed around his cock, with Paul continuing to jackhammer into you like a wild animal. Grunts and excitable groans left him in droves, rippling through his chest as you squeezed at his throat. The muscles were thick and tense underneath your small palms, slick with perspiration.

Your flesh felt dewy, especially within the oppressive heat of the cave. Paul was unstoppable, a force of nature as his hips continued to buck up, cock slamming into your poor, tight cunt. He wasn’t gentle, and he showed no signs of stopping. Delivering a sharp smack to your ass, he fillee you to the brim with his length, causing you to really grip his throat.

With a needy whimper, your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a state of ecstasy. “Paul,” You moaned, feeling his hand greedily knead into your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was intensified tenfold, making your brain go fuzzy as he fucked you into a stupor. “Holy shit!”

The alcove smelled of sex — sloppy rutting that was steadily devolving into a complete mess. Paul’s precum was slathered across your inner thighs, coupled with the slick remnants of your first orgasm and current state of arousal. He stopped his erratic thrusting, sitting up a little more with one hand on your hips.

Without warning, his mouth went straight to your chest again, lips attaching themselves around one of your swollen nipples. He was sucking, grabbing a handful of your ass as he led you up and down along his cock. The warmth of your flesh intermingled with his cool, icy skin, only serving to make you sweat.

“Touch me,” You whimpered, palms still clinging to either side of his throat, nails digging in toward the nape of his neck. The sex was incredible — you’d never been fucked like this before, but he had you chasing after every sensation. “Paul, please.” Heat crawled across your flesh, leaving you drunk with desire.

Paul playfully scraped his teeth across your breast, teasing your nipple. “M’touching you already, baby.” He mumbled, propping himself up with his other hand. A simpering groan escaped you as you rocked forward, taking one hand off of his throat to play with your clit.

An impish snarl left his mouth as he snatched at your wrist, and in one erratic movement, had you pinned down on your back. His cock throbbed inside of you, desperate for a release just as much as you were. Paul cackled, lips twitching into a sneer as he began to fuck you, enough for the foundation of the mattress to rattle underneath.

“That was bad,” Paul purred, fucking you down into the plush surface, nearly pulling his cock out of your slick cunt before slamming right back in, repeating the movement over and over again. Fortunately, he was feeling generous, slipping one hand between your bodies as he found the cleft between your thighs. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned.

You clutched onto him for dear life, body responding vehemently to Paul’s erratic thrusts and uneven, primal tempo. With a loud, wanton cry, your mouth clamored to find his lips, meeting in a rather noisy clash of teeth and tongue. He circled your clit with his thumb, rutting into you with a fervor.

“Paul!” You whined, locking a leg around his hips as your nails sank into his shoulders, leaving behind angry-red impressions, embedded within his flesh. Paul encouraged your scratching, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. A white-hot ecstasy consumed you whole, causing you to shudder and spasm.

“Can’t hear you, baby.” Paul teased, biting at your lower lip as he peppered kisses wherever he could — greedy, wet kisses that ended up being vibrantly-colored hickeys. Your flesh was his canvas as he marked you up wherever he pleased, hyperfocused on your chest again. “You close?” He huffed, fingers tearing into the sheets.

It was exhilarating — you swore you saw stars, perhaps more as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You didn’t want him to be careful. You didn’t want him to treat you like glass — you wanted to belong to him. “M’close,” Another string of sweet, noisy moans escaped you as Paul brazenly bit at your left breast, leaving behind a crescent-shaped mark. “Close.”

Rivulets of crimson trickled across your skin, prompting Paul to lick it all away, irises shifting from cerulean to a burnished gold. It made the sex more intense as he pounded away at your poor cunt, which had certainly been pushed to the limit. He was becoming a little squirrelly, panting and growling into your ear.

Paul kissed you to distract himself from the temptation of feeding, lost within the saccharine bliss of your mouth as he felt you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby. Go ‘head and cum for me, just like that.” He mumbled against your mouth, tongue lazily sweeping across your lower lip as he tensed and thrust forward.

He came right afterwards, reveling in the sight of you trembling and quivering, juices coating his length as he pulled out halfway through. It was messy and rather disgusting, but you didn’t care. Ropes of hot, white seed painted your stomach and breasts, which was some sort of fantasy for him.

You sighed, barely able to string a sentence together as you fell back against the mattress, coated in perspiration and his cum. “Jesus.” You uttered, pressing a palm over your face as Paul rolled over to lay next to you. Your legs twitched and spasmed as you came down from your climax, feeling something soft fall across your abdomen.

It was a rather unappealing-looking towel that seemed much too ancient, and you wondered how many times this had been used to clean up his mess. With a huff of laughter, you cleaned yourself up, feeling his arms tangle around you, urging you to come back to him.

“Makes you wish you’d taken me seriously sooner, huh?” Paul mumbled, nibbling along the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help but feel smitten afterwards, twisting over until you faced your vampiric paramour, who had the expression of the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re ridiculous,” You mused, holding his face between your palms. “You’re gorgeous, too.” A peculiar softness crept into your voice, prompting Paul to shower you in a cascade of needy kisses. He liked to be close, which you didn’t necessarily mind, despite the newfound scent of post-sex that permeated the alcove.

“I’m all yours, baby.” Paul smirked, shamelessly staring at your breasts without an ounce of subtlety. You couldn’t read his thoughts, but you suspected that he had something particular in-mind. “You’re in for a long night.” He purred, and before you could open your mouth to speak, he was crawling on top of you.

You would have to thank Marko later.

#slasher x reader #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x you #slasher fanfiction #the lost boys #tlb 1987 #paul tlb x reader #paul tlb x you #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #the lost boys fanfiction #tlb x reader #slasher x y/n #the lost boys 1987

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harrysfolklore · 8 months

Note

Can you write a blurb where y/n is pregnant and she and harry are at a family party or something and everyone keeps touching her bump and she’s very uncomfortable, and harry comforts her? Xx

as usual, i hated the ending for this but i hope you guys like it 🥲 let me know your thoughts and thanks for the request <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

GIF BY @whatsthereinthename

The world was going crazy over Harry Styles becoming a dad.

And the fact that the picture he posted on his Instagram to announce it gathered over 30m likes, making it the 10th most liked picture on the platform’s history proved it.

However, his millions of fans all over the world weren’t the only ones feeling absolutely ecstatic over his wife being pregnant with his first child, his family was also losing their minds over the news.

The Styles family loved YN to pieces, and not only Harry’s nuclear family consisting of his mom and sister, his extended family including aunts, uncles, cousins and even family friends had grown to love the girl over the years. So when Anne called up to invite them over for one of her famous get togethers, they were over the moon because they knew the couple would be there and they would catch a glimpse of a pregnant YN for the first time.

“You ready, love?” Harry said as he entered their shared bathroom where his wife was applying the finishing touches to her makeup.

“I am, just need to spray on some perfume and I’m good to go.” She said as she turned around to face her husband, and when Harry got a proper look at her his breath almost hitched in his throat.

She looked absolutely breathtaking with her navy blue sundress and the brand new bump that adorned her body.

Harry swore that he had never seen someone more beautiful.

“Look at you, darling.” Harry simply said, putting a hand on his chin, looking at her almost in disbelief.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” YN joked for a moment, battling her eyelashes at him.

“No, you’re just the most gorgeous woman on this earth.”

“And you’re a total sap, let’s go, I don’t want us to be late.”

The car ride to Anne’s house was nice, their favorite soft tunes and small talk filled the air until they got there, and before getting off the car, Harry took a moment to reassurance his wife about the evening.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want to rest let me know immediately, okay? I don’t want you or baby to be overwhelmed.”

She pecked his lips softly before speaking, “We’ll be good, don’t worry.”

They got off the car and we’re instantly met with Anne waiting for them by the door, a fond smile on her face at the sight of two of her favorite people.

“I’m so happy you made it,” she said as he hugged Harry first, “Darling! You’re absolutely glowing!” she hugged her daughter-in-law, gently caressing her bump.

“Thank you, Anne. It’s so good to see you.”

The three of them headed to the backyard where the rest of the guests were mingling, and once YN stepped foot all eyes were on her, complimenting how beautiful her bump looked.

“YN darling! Long time no see!” one of Harry’s aunts approached her, hugging her before placing a hand on her bump.

At this, she immediately tensed, not used to anyone aside from Harry touching her bump.

Harry noticed it and he placed a hand on her back protectively before speaking, “We’re going to sit down for a bit, the missus is a bit tired from the drive here.”

Once they were seated next to Gemma and her boyfriend Michal, YN squeezed Harry’s leg gently and gave him a soft smile, as a way to thank him for his previous action.

The evening went on smoothly, they ate Anne’s delicious food and engaged with family they haven’t seen in a while.

However, every time someone came close to YN, trying to touch her bump or just invade her personal space, she grew more and more uncomfortable.

“Your bump is getting so big!”

“Is the baby kicking yet?”

“I miss having a baby bump.”

Were some of the comments YN had heard all day long, and by the time another of Harry’s aunts tried to approach her, she had enough and quickly exited the backyard before she could reach her.

“Love? Are you okay? Saw you running away back there.”

Harry’s voice made its way to her ears, she was leaning on the kitchen counter, her back facing him.

“I’m okay, just needed a breather.” She said, her eyes closed and still not facing him.

“Hey,” Harry slowly approached her, standing next to her but not touching her, “Can you look at me please?”

YN slowly turned around, and once Harry saw her watery eyes with tears threatening to come out, he pulled her to his chest.

“What’s going on, love? What made you upset?”

YN took a few breaths before speaking, “I just, I’m not used to anyone but you touching my bump and being close to me, and your aunts have been all over me all evening and I guess I got overwhelmed,” she sniffed before continuing, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude to your family but these hormones are acting up.”

“It’s okay love, nothing to apologize for,” he pecked her forehead softly, “Do you want to get out of here, we can leave now.”

“No, we don’t have to leave,” YN interrupted him, “Can you just, stay next to me when we go out there? I feel safer when you’re close.”

Harry almost melted at her words, and she grabbed her chin and kissed her lips softly.

“Of course, my love. I’ll always make sure you and baby feel safe and comfortable.”

And with a final shared kiss, they headed out again, Harry staying by YN’s side the entire time, making sure she and his baby were always safe.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry

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kingkunigami · 2 months

Text

— hate you

You hate Oliver Aiku more than anything, if only he’d believe you.

Of course Oliver Aiku would be the first and only man to have me use the word ‘cunny’, but that’s the reason why we hate him right? Right—

Pairing: Aiku Oliver x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, hate sex, Oliver uses the word ‘cunny’ once, semi-public sex, dirty talk, no prep, creampie (reader tells him not to cum inside but he’s a prick).

Word Count: 2k.

You hate Oliver Aiku. Loathe him entirely. It’s as though this man exists to make your life miserable— and to destroy the battery in your vibrator, not that he ever needs to know that.

“Do you even know what the offside rule is, sweetheart?” He practically spat, his large form towering over you as he looked to intimidate you.

But it would never work. You were used to the same chauvenistic bullshit time and time again, by men who were far more powerful than Oliver Aiku. Remaining strong as you kept the flag high in the air and stood your ground, maintaining your verdict that the footballer was offside.

“I wouldn’t want a refresher from someone that doesn’t know what it is either.” You quipped coolly, watching his brows furrow as he kicked the ball towards Isagi in irritation.

And you tell yourself that the only reason why you’ve attended this stupid party in the first place was to annoy the centre back, and remind him that there’s no one else you hate more than him.

“Can you two just fuck already?” Chris Prince nudged your shoulder as he caught you looking across the room at Oliver, “You’re putting me off my pint.”

“I’d rather die.” You scoffed, chugging the rest of your drink before making your way towards the bathroom.

There’s no way you’d ever want to fuck a man like Oliver Aiku. He’s a misogynistic jerk that doesn’t deserve an ounce of your time, and you’ll spend the rest of your days reminding him of the fact. Worth nothing more than masturbation material as you rub your clit raw to try and get a quick release, replaying your sordid fantasies in your mind while you lay awake at night.

Or at least that’s what you try to convince yourself, as you now find yourself pressed against the bathroom wall by one extremely arrogant looking Oliver Aiku.

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all night, babygirl.” He teases, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that,” You glower, but the cocky lilt to his voice had your clit betraying you. Stowing the sound of it away in the sordid core of your brain for later when you’d settle in bed with your trusty toy.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” He coos, placing his cup down on the corner of the bathroom sink as he corners you.

“I hate you,” The words are laced with venom as he cages you against the wall. The downstairs bathroom holds barely enough space for one person, nevermind Oliver’s hulking form. His broad shoulders box you in, and if you wanted to escape there would be nowhere to go— at least that’s what you tell yourself as you lean into his touch.

His lips ghost yours, and you can feel the warmth of him laced with a mixture of beer and far too much cologne. It leaves you feeling dizzy and disorientated as he invades your space. His palm circles your neck as he tilts your chin with his thumb, pressing the faintest butterfly kiss against your glossy lips as he gives you a chance to pull away. And you should, because you fucking hate him, right? But you don’t.

Oliver is ravenous as he captures your lips in a fierce kiss, his grip against you firm as he holds you in place. It’s difficult to think as he swipes his tongue against your parted lips, trying to delve deeper as he searches for entrance. Lashing against your teeth as you let him in, swallowing the groan that forms in your throat as he deepens the kiss.

Your legs feel like jelly as your thankful for his frame keeping you upright, your hands fist into the cotton of his shirt as you pull him closer. Your nose knocks against his clumsily as you feel him palm your clothed breast, slotting his thigh between your legs as he presses himself against your core.

You can’t help yourself— can’t stop your hips from jerking as you grind yourself against pure muscle, desperate to give some needed stimulation to your throbbing cunt. You can feel Oliver’s grin against your mouth as you pull away, licking his lips childishly to taste the saccharine of your gloss against his tongue. The messy pink hue tints his skin as he shamelessly slips his hands beneath your skirt to pull your soaked panties down.

You should tell him off when he pockets them without question, chastise him for being such an asshole. But the thoughts fall on deaf ears the moment his slender fingers brush through your messy folds.

“I hate you,” You repeat, although the venom has virtually disappeared to be replaced by the desperate sigh that escapes past your lips.

“Sure feels like you fucking hate me, sweetheart.” He groans, shamelessly prodding at your tight hole as it pulses in response, inviting him in like a tempting siren ushering a sailor to his death. Dragging the moisture from your weeping hole to press it against your puffy clit, stealing more pretty sounds from your throat.

“I do.” The words leave your lips as though you’re trying to convince yourself of a truth to them, sounding them against your tongue before licking your glossed lips.

He’s quick to undo his buckle, letting it hang in the loops of his jeans as he tugs them down enough to free his thick cock. It’s clear Oliver is unconcerned about foreplay, another reason why you should hate him more. But he has the decency to drag the leaking swollen tip of himself through the mess between your thighs before he presses himself against your tight entrance. Calloused fingers dig into the plush of your leg with even more urgency as he pulls your thigh higher against his hip.

“Yeah, yeah,” He gives a harsh rut of his hips that has your thick lashes fluttering as your nails dig into broad sboulders, “Can you feel how much I hate you too?”

He’s so deep inside you that you’re certain you can feel his cock pulse in your throat, the swollen tip angled perfectly to hit your g-spot with every messy thrust. Oliver gives another rough thrust to emphasise the statement, pushing you harder against the wall as you knock your head against the cool porcelain tile.

“You’re disgusting.” You groan, your chest heaves as he pulls your top down. Exposing your round breasts to his greedy eyes as he pinches a taut nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger as you tremble against him.

“I know,” He sniggers, “That’s why you’re soaking my cock right now.”

“Fuck you,” The words leave your lips like an insult, but your body betrays your repulsion.

“At least your pussy’s fucking honest,” He continues, his grip almost bruising against your skin as he starts a brutal place, “Feel her sucking me in.”

It’s hard to focus with the way he uses you, messy stubble scratches against the column of your neck as he peppers searing hot kisses against your skin. Your hands reach the base of his skull, nails scratch against his scalp as you try to find purchase. To find some semblance of reality as the man you’re so certain you despise splits you apart on his cock.

“Oh, baby. You’ve got the sweetest little cunny.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You feel yourself blanch at the childish word, the humiliation swirls in your pelvis as you scrunch your nose in disgust, “Don’t call it that.”

“Oh?” You can hear the mirth on the tip of his tongue as he noses the side of your face, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “You’d prefer if I called her my perfect little cunt instead?”

The crude spit of the word has your walls clenching around him. A pitiful, carnal response to his words as his lips curl into a smug grin. Oliver laughs and you hate him even more, the desire to push him off you and leave him drooling with your slick to wipe that stupid smirk of his face is strong. But the desire to cum is stronger.

“She’s not yours,” You snarl, your nails practically dig into his skin now, leaving long red lines down the expanse of his back even through the thin cotton of his shirt.

“She isn’t?” He tilts his head to the side with fake perplexity, “Is that why she’s fucked into the shape of my cock?”

You hate his stupid dirty talk, or the pathetic attempt of it. But your body betrays your consciousness, drooling down the length of him as you leave creamy rings of slick around the base. Oliver wonders what you’d think if you knew he wasn’t going to shower tonight, content to fist himself again to the memory— with his cock still covered in a thick layer of you.

“It’s like she knows who she belongs to—” You dont know whether he’s talking to you or your cunt now, as he reaches between your bodies to thumb at your swollen clit. Rubbing messy figures of eight against it as your hips buck into him, trying to match his thrusts as you feel the coil onside you tighten.

“Yeah, not to you—“ Your retorts are just as pathetic as you are now, barely able to form a coherent response as you’re focused on the way Oliver manages to hit that same spot inside with precision. The engorged tip bruising your cervix with each roll of his hips, intent on leaving you with a buoyant throb between your thighs the next morning. A reminder of just how well he fucked you—

“Let’s ask her, shall we?” He sneers, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. Smearing what little is left of your sparkly lipgloss against his lips and your cheeks, “If you love my cock cum for me, sweetheart.”

You clench in disdain, refusing to submit to a man— no less Oliver Aiku. But he feels the way you squeeze him, the way you try to fight back and he refuses to lose to you now. Increasing his pace as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, the crude sound mixes with the squelch of your cunt as he pushes you towards the brink. Challenging you to hold back, to deny your pleasure.

“I know you want to,” He continues, “I can feel you squeezin’ my cock.”

And he’s right, you hate how right he is. Your toes curl in your shoes as your eyes roll back into your skull, finally succumbing to the pleasure flowing through your veins as a pathetic whine of his name spills from your lips.

“Oh you good fuckin’ girl,” He gloats, cherishing the way your cunt throbs around him. Continuing to use your body for his own pleasure as he pounds into your convulsing heat.

Your cunt continues to clench around Oliver’s cock, trying to milk him of his release as your head lulls back against the porcelain tile. His palm reaches up to hold the back of it, and normally you’d should at him for touching you when his fingers are covered in your slick. But it’s uncharacteristically caring as he stops your skull from banging against the wall as he uses you for his own pleasure, shamelessly seeking out his release as he fucks into your quivering hole.

“Not inside,” You whine, staring at him through half lidded eyes as he pouts pathetically.

“But she wants it,” He chimes between sloppy thrusts, “She wants me to fill her up— oh, fuck.”

The way your walls pulse around him in response is all it takes to have him tumbling over the edge into his own pleasure, his forehead pressed against yours as he empties his balls inside your silky walls. Lining them with white hot spurs of his release as he gives a few more sloppy thrusts, fucking the mixture deeper inside you as he rides out his high.

“You’re such an asshole,” You groan as he pulls out of your abused hole, feeling his spend leak out of you as it drools down your inner thighs.

“Would an asshole have you this wet, sweetheart?” And you can already feel your cunt throbbing at the sight of his softening cock glistening under the fluorescent light.

“That isn’t me,” You sneer, but Oliver unabashedly holds himself up so you can see the creamy slick pool around his sac.

“You keep telling yourself that,” He grins, “And I’ll keep believing it.”

#blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #Oliver aiku smut #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #aiku oliver x reader #aiku Oliver smut #blue lock x you

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artaxlivs · 10 months

Text

"What is it?" Eddie asks, dipping down to brush the tip of his nose against Steve's bicep.

"No," Steve shakes his head, hides his face between his shoulder and his pillow, "you'll laugh."

"I always laugh, Harrington." Eddie grins, bites the meat of Steve's arm playfully, "Bullying you is how I express my love."

Steve snorts out a laugh, rolls himself halfway up and yanks Eddie in to tuck under his chin before curling around him. "You must really love me."

Eddie noses along his jaw, kisses the underside, sticks out his tongue and licks it, "I really do." And he does. Obsessively. Who wouldn't? Steve is...perfect. But real, too. Sweet and kind. A little bitchy. Kind of an air head. Great ass. Hands that can make Eddie hard from across a room. And that side smile? Fuck. Yeah, he really does.

"Tell me," Eddie demands, pushing Steve over onto his back and grappling his hands until he's holding them down on the pillows next to Steve's head.

Steve's pupils dilate, his breath catches but he wrestles Eddie back over onto his back, flipping their positions again, "If you tempt me with that sweet ass of yours, Eds, I won't tell you." Then he sort of growls, dipping down to nibble up the column of Eddie's throat, pressing his hands into the pillows, tangling their fingers together as he slides his legs down and presses his hips into Eddie's.

Groaning and arching up into it, Eddie moans, "You're being distracting on purpose!"

Leaving a trail of wet lip prints, Steve kisses down Eddie's chest, whispers, "Am I?" into the warm skin there. Sinks his teeth in gently, makes Eddie pull a breath in sharp between his teeth as he writhes under Steve.

"Steeeve." Eddie whines. Then he almost gets the wind knocked out of him as Steve clamors up and flops down flat on his chest like damn golden retriever.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." Steve says, biting his own lip and looking down into Eddie's eyes. He's nervous so Eddie doesn't poke fun again, just waits, runs his hands up and down Steve's naked sides and along the waistband of his sweats. "I want to ...I want to go to college," He finally gets out, setting his jaw, determined. "I want to be a teacher."

Eddie smiles, big and bright because he's so proud that this is his guy, this is his person. This man who loves to help people. Who loves to protect them and make sure they feel loved. It's the perfect career choice. How did Eddie get so lucky?

He knows, though, that Steve doesn't do great with praise or adoration. That it makes him uncomfortable. That he needs to be teased, needs to fade into the background, be unassuming and unobserved. Unlike Eddie who kicks lunches off tables and proclaims himself a freak. So instead of gushing about what a great teacher Steve's gonna make, Eddie teases, "Do I get to call you Mr. Harrington during sex? Will this lead to sexy roleplay?"

Sighing, Steve rests his forehead on Eddie's like he's not totally turned on even though they can both feel just how much of a lie that is, "If, by sexy roleplay, you mean am I gonna make you write lines while I jerk off without you - then yes."

Eddie makes a strangled noise in his throat because, yeah, he's actually super into that, Mr. Harrington.

#what am i doing with my life #i have so many WIPs I'm not working on #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hot for teacher

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the-kr8tor · 9 months

Text

The Morning after

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Synopsis: you spend a peaceful morning with Hobie.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned to be smaller than Hobie though) TW food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF , lovestruck Hobie.

A continuation of this fic.

My Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Hobie wakes up with his right arm aching, he groans from the weight slightly crushing his arm– wait what?

He opens his half asleep eyes with a confused look. Hobie cranes his neck down, he finally sees who the intruder is.

Hobie smiles to himself, Fully waking up, he remembers that he invited you over. He stares at your form, memorizing every bit of detail from how you clutched his jumper with a grip, your lips slightly parted as you exhale, the early morning sun shines at your back, bathing your form in a heavenly glow. Hobie moves you closer to him, as to not let the rays hit your face and disturb your peace.

He tries to move you both farther away from the edge of the bed, but he finds that your legs are intertwined with his, preventing him from moving.

He huffs, a lopsided smile on his lips. Hobie ghosts his thumb over your cheeks, the pattern from the knitted blanket leaves a mark on your skin. A sign that you've slept well, and in his arms no doubt. His forgotten comforter kicked to the foot of the bed.

He gets a whiff of your coconut shampoo, surely leaving its scent on his pillow.

He thinks about buying a proper toothbrush holder, so he could place his and yours together.

He really should invite you more.

Hobie's spidey senses wake him up from his daze– he clutches you closer to his body, carefully cradling your head. A wave from a moving boat rushes towards the houseboat, rocking it harshly. His busted alarm clock drops to the floor in a crash.

Hobie hisses as he sees you twitch. He curses whoever was in that boat.

"Ughh" you groan out, muffled against Hobie's chest. You grip his jumper tighter.

"Shit" his voice deeper than usual, you release his jumper and instead hug his torso. The waves get calmer, rocking you both softly.

"You alright?" He rubs your back just in case you feel sick.

You pop your head away from Hobie's chest, chin resting on his scratchy jumper, you tickle him a bit, but he won't tell you that of course. You open one eye to stare at him, yawning.

"Say that again?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

"Are you alright?" He hides his laugh by clearing his throat.

"Hmm" you grin "I like your morning voice"

He chuckles deeply, knowing what it does to you.

"Oh, you did that on purpose, you dork" you softly say.

"Yeah, bet it got you all hot and bothered for it too, huh" Hobie pokes your sides teasingly.

"Don't start" you swat away his hand, noticing his teasing mood this morning, you anticipate his tickling.

"You look pretty in the morning, you didn't wake up early and clean yourself up secretly, right?" He knows you didn't, sleep still sticking on your eyes, your hair looking disheveled.

"Nope, it's au naturel" you quip back. It earns a deep chuckle from Hobie.

He carefully rubs off the gunk from the corner of your eye, you sigh into his touch.

"You like my morning breath too?" He tries to blow air downwards but you're ready, you clasp your hand over his mouth, stopping his teasing.

You laugh victorious, that is until he licks your hand, recoiling your hand away, he laughs loudly.

"Hobie! That's it, I'm not making you breakfast"

"Alright, alright, I'll stop. For now" he grabs the back of your head pushing you back to his chest.

You move to the crooked of his neck instead, in case you're crushing him. You slyly wipe his drool from your hand on his jumper.

"I saw that" Hobie peeks downward.

"No, you didn't"

"This is vintage y'know"

"It's your own drool!" You laugh.

"Yeah! And you slobbered all over it while you used me as your personal pillow" he rubs the exposed skin on your waist, cupping the softness fondly.

"I don't slobber!" You grab his jaw downwards so you could look eye to eye.

"Tell that to my soaked jumper" he whispers, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Your heart skips a beat.

Knowing what he's gonna do next, you cover his lips over your hand, "let me brush my teeth first"

You push away from Hobie, your torso barely off the bed, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down. You gasp out.

"Nope" in one swift movement Hobie cups your cheek guiding you towards his lips, your lips crash against each other, you cringe when your forehead hits his a bit too loudly. Insecurity fills you when you remember that you still have morning breath.

He doesn't care though, instead he pokes your sides, making you gasp parting your lips, making him kiss you deeper.

You pull away breathlessly when you hear a rumbling noise underneath you.

"Ah, fuck" Hobie facepalms in embarrassment.

Hobie's stomach grumbles again, mocking him.

You grab his hand, peeking in "aww, my poor baby is hungry" you mockingly coo. "I'll make you breakfast, sunny side up right?" You push off him, finally noticing you're on the wrong side of the bed.

"Yes, please, love" he exhales out the embarrassment.

"How'd I end up on this side?" You point out.

"Huh, I probably dragged you with me"

You imagine what it might've looked like, you fluster. Even asleep he wants you near, you look at him adoringly, swiping away the sheen on his lips before leaving a kiss for good measure.

You leave for the bathroom, he stares at the door you entered in, a lovestruck expression on his face. Once he knows you're decent, he flips away the covers, following towards the sound of the faucet squeak open.

Hobie knocks, you hum while brushing your teeth. He opens the door, then leans against it, his arms relaxed on his sides, his sweatpants hang low on his hips.

He admires you bathe in white fluorescent light, his shirt on your form hanging loose on you. You looked out of place but at the same time fitting right in his tiny bathroom.

He thought you looked like you came out of an oil painting.

"You need to use the bathroom?" You ask as you place your toothbrush down.

"You should leave it"

"Leave what?"

"Your toothbrush, for next time" Hobie crosses his arms, a sudden shyness floods him.

"Of course" you smile, already getting what he's trying to say, "I was already planning on leaving it" you come forward, leaving a minty kiss on his cheek. "Your turn stinky" you pat his bum with a smack.

Hobie hears your laughter echo around the houseboat.

After washing up, Hobie opens the bathroom door, the smell of eggs and his favourite tea covers his senses. He chuckles to himself.

He could get used to this.

Hobie enters his modest kitchen, you hum along to the music from the radio, the inside of his houseboat looks a bit different than before, there's more light shining inside, fresh air wafts through the open windows, it seems that there's more life in his home.

He moves towards you, hugging you from behind. You giggle at the contact. He looks over your shoulder, he watches as you expertly flip the pancake over.

"Hello to you too" you crane your neck to look at him "I opened the windows, it's too nice outside. Hope you don't mind"

"I don't mind, we need the fresh air" he snuggles deeper on the crook of your neck. "Where'd you get pancake mix? I know that I don't have any"

"Ah, I brought it with me" you side glance at him, gauging his reaction.

"So, you were planning on making breakfast for me, hmm?"

"I did bring it, but it doesn't mean I was planning on cooking it myself" you turn off the stove, he turns you around, crowding you in between him and the stove.

"So you're making me breakfast out of the goodness of heart then?" He holds onto your hips.

"Yes, you're making the next one by the way"

"You're a cheeky one, aren't you?" He leans towards you, his lips ghosting over yours, but before sealing the deal, he grabs his mug behind you. He sips from it loudly, making eye contact over the mug.

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your disappointment. "You're a menace" you give him a plate of eggs, sunny side up just like how he requested it. "Make yourself useful, and set the table"

Hobie sees his kitchen counter slash dining table, that's not gonna cut it out for you. He looks out of the window, the rare sun shining over the river, fluffy white clouds blanket the sky.

It's a beautiful morning, a shame to waste it.

He pushes the door open, leading to his 'porch'

"Where are you going?" You ask curiously.

"You'll see" Hobie peeks back inside, a smirk on his face.

You shake your head at his shenanigans, you wonder what he's planning.

The water looks calm, the cold morning air nips at his skin, his jumper barely protecting him from the cold. Hobie sees the metal table wet with morning dew, that won't do, so he grabs a nearby cloth to wipe it dry, he carefully puts down the plate of eggs and his tea, to wipe at the mismatched chairs.

Hobie wipes the wooden chair more thoroughly, since the metal one looks more worn down, he's concerned you might poke yourself on it.

He looks at his handiwork, there seems to be something missing, Hobie roams his eyes around the boat, his eyes stop at an empty beer bottle, he places it in the middle of the table acting as a centerpiece.

Then he perches himself near the edge of his boat to pick a single daisy from a neighbouring houseboat's flower pot; he's sure they wouldn't notice one missing. Hobie gingerly puts the small flower inside the bottle.

You open the door with your foot a little too loudly, you squint at the harsh sound. Hobie quickly moves to help you carry out the plates and mug.

"Thanks, Hobie," you grin, your smile gets wider when you see his little set up. The little daisy swaying in the air. "Oh, handsome" you gasp out.

You're finished, your eyes slightly glazing over.

Hobie chuckles at his new nickname, he moves the wooden chair for you to sit, hands on its back, like a gentleman.

" C'mon then, stop gawking, I'm starving" he stares at your dumbstruck face, the cold air leaving goosebumps on your arms.

You sit down, smiling, forgetting the cold air.

"Do you want me to grab a jacket?" He asks as he rubs your arms from behind.

You grab his wrist, you bracelet around it with your fingers, "no, stay, I'm okay" you sniff, revealing your lie.

"Nah, I'm not letting you freeze to death, let me grab it real quick, alright?" Hobie runs inside, eager to come back to you.

Oh, he's absolutely whipped for you, no doubt about it.

You revel in the sun shining on you, closing your eyes, you inhale sharply. Hobie sees you like this, his breath hitches in his throat. You must look heavenly, a slight breeze makes your eyelashes flutter. Opening your eyes, you notice eyes on you, you smile at him.

He's done for.

Waking up from his stupor, he wraps the dark hoodie on your head. A feeble attempt to hide the effect you have on him

"And here I thought you were being sweet on me" you tease him, knowing that he actually is soft for you.

"I've got a reputation, y'know" he sits down with a metal creak.

Hobie notices that you're sitting a little bit too far for his taste. "What are you doing there? C'mere" he grabs your chair, pulling it towards him, the wooden legs scraping against the metal of the boat.

You laugh, despite the harsh sound coming from the scraping.

"There, much better?" He leans on the arms of his chair.

You nod, a permanent smile on your face "much better" you kiss his cheek, your cold lips a contrast to his warm skin, it melts into his skin, etching in like a tattoo.

You intertwine your arm around his, speaking softly, as to not disturb your little peaceful bubble around the both of you, " y'know I thought you would be grumpier in the morning"

"Why's that?" He leans closer.

"I don't know, you seem like the type" you whisper against his lips, "you're a night owl, so I thought you would hate waking up this early"

"Only if I don't sleep well" heat rises in your cheeks at his implication, "Lucky for me I've got my very own koala latching on to me last night"

You raise your eyebrow "Really a koala, that's the best you can do, Hobart?"

"You always resort to calling me by my government name whenever you're flustered, koala works, lovey" he cups your jaw, his thumb brushes past your lips. You close your eyes, leaning in.

Before your lips could meet, you hear a gurgling sound.

You pull away, laughing loudly. Hobie lets out a small goddamnit.

"We should eat, before your stomach starts eating you from the inside" you say in between laughs.

"Yeah, yeah" he grumpily grabs his spoon.

You hide your smile behind your mug.

A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it, as always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*image above is from pinterest*

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #the kr8tor's creations #spider punk x you #hobie brown x you #tw food #tw food mention #established relationship #atsv x reader #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader

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sykostyles · 2 months

Text

let you love me 1.2.1 (a deleted scene)

wc: 1.8 k

summary: in which Harry gives Y/N everything she deserves after bringing her home from their second date at the record store. can be read as stand alone! part one, two, three

a/n: okay.. I know I said it'd be a while before I did something like this, but I just took the plunge and did it.. I sat down and did it. I'm honestly terrified and plan on panic posting and hiding until tomorrow. A huge thank you to the lovely @cherryjuiceblues for being my beta/proof reader. All of your comments (and reactions) had me kicking my feet like a school girl. You're the sweetest, Sophie! I hope all of you enjoy another first of mine!

cw: smut. so much smut. all other context is in the previous parts above. p in v sex, creampie, oral (f receiving) semi-rough sex, prone bone sex, dirty talk, choking, teeny bit of cum play, (if I missed anything pls let me know!)

“I seem to remember a promise you made about taking me upstairs and giving me everything I deserve. I’m waiting for that promise to be kept, Mr. Styles.”

“Well then, allow me to demonstrate,” he says, flipping you both over so you were under him, eliciting a shriek of laughter from you.

Harry’s hands begin their trek down the expanse of your body; memorizing every curve and dip under his fingers. “How do you want me, baby?” He asks, placing kisses along the curve of your throat.

“Want whatever you’re willing to give me,” you rush out before pulling his lips back to yours.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for, sweetheart,” he grumbles into your ear, sliding one of his hands up to grasp your chin.

“Mm, promise I can take it,” you whimper, a wicked grin spreading across your spit-swollen lips.

“Yeah? Wanna be my good girl, huh?” He asks, repositioning his hand to grip the front of your throat. He notices the spark in your eyes alongside your grin when he squeezes lightly. “oh, god.” He thinks “I’m in trouble.”

“Uhuh uhuh. Please, Harry. Need it," you whine.

“You asked for this, baby.” With that he flips you over onto your front and places a firm smack on your ass making you mewl beneath him. He’s pulling up on your hips to give you a good arch, “Should we check how our girl is feeling back here, baby? Hm?” He teases you from his spot behind you. You whimper in response, but he firmly brings his hand down on your ass again. “Words, baby,” he says, rubbing his hand over your ass cheek.

“Y-yes,” you breathe out, turning your head so your cheek is resting on the pillow. He hooks his pointer fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly peels them down your legs. Your breath hitches at the feeling of the cool air against your bare cunt.

“Ooh, look how pretty she is, baby. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.” He says, gliding his fingers up and down your slit making you shudder.

“You’re the one w–ho wanted to w–ait,” you remind him, making him smirk.

“Mm, suppose my girl is right,” he says, dipping a finger inside; making you gasp. “Should I give you a reward for being right?”

“Mhm! Please!” Harry smiles at your eagerness.

He adds a second finger before his thumb finds your clit, spelling his name over and over with his ministrations against the bundle. “Ooh, she likes that, love,” he says, placing a kiss on your asscheek. “Can feel you clenching around my fingers already,” He chuckles lowly behind you.

“M-more,” you plead, reaching behind you to grip his wrist.

“Already begging for more?” He teases. “I’ll give you more, don’t worry.” He’s adding a third finger now, speeding up his motions. Your grip on his wrist tightens making him hiss. “Gimme your hands, baby,” he says, stopping his motions, making you whimper at the loss of contact. He grabs both of your hands in a firm grip before pressing them to your lower back. Grabbing your discarded panties, he ties them around your wrists forcing your arms to stay folded against your back; leaving you completely at his mercy. “There we go. Now, where were we?” He smooths his hands over the expanse of your ass, “Oh, that’s right. We were just about here,” He says, placing his fingers back in their respective spots, earning a moan from deep in your throat.

“Harry, please, d-don’t stop,” you say, pushing your hips back to meet the thrusts of his fingers.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he says, “gonna let me have a taste? Can feel you getting close.”

“Mhm mhm, whatever you want. S’close, Harry.” He then dips his head down and swipes his tongue over your bundle of nerves, making you shudder.

“So sweet, baby. Could do this for hours,” the tips of his fingers keep grazing that spongy spot, making your brain go to complete mush. He can feel just how close you are, so he speeds his fingers up even more, “Cum for me, sweet girl. Give it all to me,” he mumbles against your core.

“Oh f–uck, Harry! M’cumming!” You cry out, your entire body tensing. A white hot flash spreads across your vision as you’re taken over with pleasure. Harry continues his movements, working you through every ounce of your orgasm.

“There we go, baby. So good.” Harry praises you as you’re coming down, his tongue cleaning every bit up. “Tastes so good. Such a sweet girl.” He coos as he pulls your legs so you’re laying flat. “You doing alright?” he asks, rubbing his hands up your legs, before stopping at your ass cheeks to rub slow circles..

“Mhm,” you whine, feeling Harry’s fingers spread your cheeks apart.

“You ready for more?” He inquires, not wanting to push you too far.

“Yes please,” you mumble into the pillow.

“So polite, baby. Where’d my little spit fire go? She go hide because I got you all flustered? Hm?”

“Harry, please,” you plead, making him smirk. He stands to pull his boxers off before joining you on the bed again.

“I got you, baby, don’t worry,” He says before crawling up the expanse of your body. He slides one arm under your shoulders, grasping your throat in his hand before pressing his body weight onto you. “Gonna make you feel so good, my girl,” he promises before craning your neck to place a kiss on your parted lips. He reaches down with his other hand, guiding his cock to your entrance, gathering some of your arousal on his tip before slowly pressing inside; making both of you moan in unison at the sensation. “Oh–hah, f-fuck. So tight, baby,” he growls in your ear, inching his way inside. He’s turning your brain to mush once again without even trying.

“J-jesus, Harry. S-so big.” You whine. “C-can’t take it.”

“Oh, I know you can, pretty girl,” He coos in your ear. “And you will,” he says, pushing in to the hilt. The sound he pulls from your throat makes him feel a sense of pride. “See? There we go,” he says, pressing a firm squeeze against your throat. “Knew you could do it.”

You whimper in response. “H-harry.”

“Yes, sweet girl?” He internally groans at the feeling of you clenching down on him..

“M-move, please.”

“Anything for you, love,” he’s sliding his hips back far enough to leave his tip inside, to then slam back into you repeatedly, turning you into a moaning mess beneath him. “Yeah, baby? That feel good?” He asks. He’s doing everything in his power to not finish too early; the feeling of your thighs alongside the feeling of your plush, warm walls has his head spinning far earlier than anticipated. But he can tell you’re not far behind. Seems his girl likes it a little rougher. He’d be sure to remember to have a more in depth conversation with you regarding harder limits later.

“M’close, Harry. S’close!” You rush out. You’re in complete heaven. The constant rush of the tip of his cock grazing your g spot, and the ridges of every vein against your walls have your head rushing and your arousal pooling in your gut.

“M’too, pretty. So close,” Harry says as he reaches down with his other hand and lifts your hip enough to connect his fingers to your clit one more time, rubbing in tight circles. His other hand still having a firm grip on your throat. “Cum.” He commands, feeling the band snap within you.

“OH, F–UCK,” you start to unravel. Harry squeezes the sides of your throat just a little tighter to really tip you over the edge. His speed doesn’t falter, however. He’s determined to milk every ounce of your orgasm out of you.

“Yeah, baby, there we go. Such a good girl,” He praises, releasing his grip on your neck to push himself up. He takes hold of your bound hands, pulling them towards him and giving your back that perfect arch. “G’na cum, baby,” he warns, “Where d’ya want me?”

“I-inside, please, Harry. Cum for me, please!” You beg, making him groan.

“Oh, f–fuck,” his hips stutter at your plea. Of course he obliges. White hot ropes are filling you to the brim. “Just like that, baby– shit,” he groans, continuing to roll his hips into you. “Gonna milk me dry.”

“'So good, Harry,” you mumble into the pillow.

His hips slowly come to a halt against your ass, and he reaches up to undo the knot keeping your wrists together. Your arms fall to your sides as he lays his weight on top of you again, pressing kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “Did so well for me, baby,” He whispers against your skin. You turn your head to capture a glimpse of his face and he’s smiling.

“You’re so pretty.” You say, reaching your hand up to cradle the side of his face.

“Am I?” He asks, placing a kiss to your nose.

“Mhm. Promise.” You smile at him. “Kiss?”

“Like you have to ask.” He says leaning down to you, capturing your lips with his. He takes hold of your wrist, noticing the red marks from your underwear. “Sorry, love.’ He coos, before pressing his lips softly to the marks.

“S’okay. Felt good.” You affirm. “You’re still hard.” You say wiggling your hips against him, making yourself whimper at the feeling of his cock grinding inside you at your movements.

“Mm, noticed that, did you?” He teases.

“Kind of hard to miss.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Hey now, where’d my good girl go, hm?” He inquires, swatting his hand against your ass making you squeal. “Who’s this brat?” He quickly pulls himself out of you, making you hiss at the sudden empty feeling. Taking hold of your hips, he flips you over once more beneath him. “Hi, baby,” he says once you’re face to face.

“Hi, stranger,” you whisper, smiling up at him and sliding your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Where’d that attitude go?” He teases, rubbing his cock up and down your slit, catching all of your mixed arousal on his tip, and making your breath hitch when his tip would catch in your entrance.

“D-don’t worry, she’s s-still here,” you whimper against his lips, making him smile.

“Good,” he starts, placing a heated kiss to your lips. “Guess I gotta keep going then,” he says, pushing his cock back inside, fucking his cum from before right back into you and making you gasp. “Good thing though–” He continues, gripping behind your knees to bring your legs against your chest, making his cock push into that spot over and over “--Because I want to watch your pretty face the next time you fall apart on my cock.”

I'll be hiding for the next week now 🫣

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed! <3

taglist: @stylesfever @olipoli21 @hermionelove @st-ev-ie @mrs-anna-styles211994 @hannah9921 @velvetballaspark

#harry styles #harry x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry imagine #harry styles one shot

359 notes · View notes

thewintersoldierdisaster · 4 months

Text

a/n: a little festive mat fic! written fairly quickly and minimally edited, but i wanted to get something out for the holiday! not too much more to say except i hope you guys all have a wonderful holiday and i’ll be quiet for the rest of the year, writing and stockpiling fics lol

word count: 4.8k

tw: a little innuendo, nothing crazy

summary: after spending the day hanging out with the team, you have some news for mat

“The snow was a nice touch,” you grin at Holly Horvat. A light dusting of snow is falling outside, the grass in the Horvats’ backyard already white.

Holly laughs, “oh, you know me. I have a connect to make sure even the weather is perfect for our events.” She pours M&Ms into a few small ramekins that are going to be placed around the kitchen island and dining room table where the kids will be decorating gingerbread houses.

The house is bustling with people and noise and you can’t help but love it. You miss having huge family gatherings, ever since your parents moved off Long Island and down south. The rest of your family is scattered to the winds, so it’s nice to be folded into the big team family get togethers. Joining a group of women who love any excuse to throw a party has been one of the biggest benefits from your relationship with Mat.

Half a dozen kids run past you - you spot the Bailey boys and Brock’s two oldest kids in the group as they blur by - holding jackets and their sneakers. “Mini sticks is getting moved outside,” Noah grins as he breezes past you, swiping a handful of M&Ms from the little bowl.

“Stay warm,” you tease, watching him follow the kids out the back door. A parade of adult men follow him - Wahlly, Casey, Josh, Brock, and finally Mat, who stops to give your waist a little squeeze.

“Kiss for luck?” He asks, puckering his lips at you in a dramatic duck face. You giggle and plant one on him, pulling back before he can slip his tongue past your lips.

Mat leans slightly against you, his face a little flushed already from the twenty minutes of mini sticks that’s been going on in the basement. “What do you need luck for?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Jacky’s got a wicked wrister,” Mat grins, referring to Casey’s oldest, “and no idea how to aim. Do you know how many pucks to the head I’ve dodged?”

A snort of laughter makes Mat’s lips turn down in a frown. “Oh, I guess you just don’t care about my health,” he sighs dramatically, pulling away from your side. “It’s fine. I’ll take a slap shot to the head and then you’ll see how much you miss my charming personality.”

“Dramatics,” you murmur affectionately, hooking your fingers in his belt loops. “He’s five and you guys use a Nerf ball. I think you’ll live.”

“Maaaat!” Jack comes barreling through the room and crashes into your fiancé’s legs. “C’mon! Everybody’s outside.” The little boy looks adorable in his puffer coat, a little beanie pulled haphazardly over his blonde hair. He wrinkles his face up at Mat in an impatient frown and you can’t help but egg him on.

“Yeah, Mat,” you prod him in the side, looking innocent, “everyone’s outside already.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but grins down at Jack and swoops him into his arms, making Jack shriek with laughter. You prop your chin in the palm of your hand and watch Mat tickle Jack’s belly while he carries him outside. Jack’s little sneakered feet are kicking in the air, narrowly avoiding Mat’s head.

“He’s really good with the kids,” Kristy Cizikas comments, coming into the kitchen with baby Cole propped on her hip.

You scrunch up your face at Cole to make him laugh, “it’s because he’s a big kid himself, right Coley? Huh? Is Matty a big kid?” You giggle at your own baby talk and warmth blooms in your chest when you’re rewarded with a gummy baby smile. “Ooh, you make cute babies,” you tell Kristy.

She shakes her head affectionately, “I swear, they’re all Casey. It’s like my genes didn’t even try.”

“Hey, in like six months you and Mat can start catching up to the rest of us,” Sydney Martin teases, easily passing Alice to you when you reach out for the one-year-old. Alice immediately grabs a chunk of your hair and you wince, untangling chubby fingers from the strands.

You hum noncommittally as you work. “We’ll see what happens,” you shrug. “Might be nice to just be the two of us for a bit.”

“But don’t you want that all the time?” Syd laughs, gesturing to you now that Alice’s fingers are hooked in your mouth. You pretend to nibble on them, making her shriek with laughter. She finishes helping Holly set out the candy, knowing the rest of the kids will start wandering their way into the kitchen.

“One day, definitely,” you nod, settling Alice more securely on your lap, one arm looped around her stomach. The little girl slaps her palms happily on the countertop and you giggle, resting your chin on her head. “No rush though.”

As you settle at the table with the kids, the other guys trail in and out of the backyard, the noise of mini sticks floating inside.

You get to be in charge of Alice during decorating, sitting in between Syd with Winnie and Ashlee with Luca while the kids decorate their pre-made houses. You squirt a line of frosting onto the roof and Alice uses her little pincer grip to place M&Ms on the line. “Oh, good job,” you tell her in a bright, encouraging voice. She rewards you with a half melted piece of candy smushed against your cheek.

“Mommy,” Winnie’s little voice pipes up, “Ali’s makin’ a mess.”

“So are you, Win,” Sydney laughs, wiping up a smudge of frosting off of Winnie’s sweater. “Everyone is going to make a little bit of a mess and that’s okay.”

From your spot at the island, you can see right out the back door and you watch the mini sticks tournament that’s happening. Kids versus adults and honestly, it looks like the adults are having a rough go of it. Mat’s on the ground, a pile of children fighting him. Whally has Cal’s oldest on his shoulders and you honestly wonder how that ended up happening. Sticks have been discarded and the Nerf pucks are strewn around. You watch Casey pull Jack out of the pile on top of Mat, his little arms and legs kicking. From the ground, Mat jokingly sticks his tongue out at Jack and you shake your head. Of course he has beef with a five-year-old.

Bo and Gunnar join the fun outside and Mat slaps the little boy’s hand in a high-five. Your stomach swoops a little. It’s always such a turn-on when Mat interacts with kids, but it’s a little different now.

Alice pats your hand and grumbles a little. “Whoops, sorry, Al,” you squeeze more frosting onto the house for her to decorate.

“Distracted?” Ashlee asks, pulling Luca’s frosting covered hand away from his hair. She wipes his fingers off with a napkin and gives him a pretzel to stick onto his little house. She pops another pretzel into her own mouth.

You hum. “Just making sure he’s not being totally steamrolled by a pack of kids,” you laugh lightly. While Alice works on the roof of her house, you put a few Starburts in place to act as a little pathway going to the door.

In the backyard, Mat stands up, Mack and Wyatt Bailey hanging from each arm. He shakes them gently and you can see both boys’ heads fall back with wild laughter. Meg looks up from where she’s helping Blake with a pattern of Smarties on her roof. “Honestly, if he wasn’t busy with, you know, his actual job,” she laughs, “I’d hire him as a babysitter. The kids loved when he lived with us.”

The entire kitchen of women laugh when the back door slides open and Mat steps back inside, shaking melted snow from his short hair. He stops and looks up, scanning the room full of laughing women. “What?” He asks, eyebrows drawn together. “I interrupt something? Want me to leave so you ladies can keep talking about me?” He laughs brightly, flashing his teeth.

“You can stay,” you offer generously, tilting your head up as he passes for a kiss. Mat’s hand is freezing when it cups your jaw and you flinch a little. He mumbles a ‘sorry’ against your lips before kissing them. When he pulls away, to a soundtrack of ‘awww’s from the women and a joking ‘get a room’ from Sydney, you continue, “but you have to take orders from toddlers, if you do.”

“Like I’m not already doing that,” he laughs, swiping a thumb over your cheekbone and sucking it into his mouth. “Frosting,” he explains, smirking. Your cheeks flush.

Winnie stands up on her chair and leans into you, poking at your cheek with her fingers. “Red, I wanna be red!” She bounces a little and looks over at Mat who scrunches up his whole face at her and tickles her sides, making her shriek with laughter and flop back into Sydney’s arms.

Sydney laughs and tickles Winnie’s side, “girlfriend, you’re collecting boyfriends around here like they’re Pokémon cards.”

Satisfied by the chaos he caused, Mat backs into the hallway, explaining, “I was sent to get more jackets and gloves and sh-stuff,” he course-corrects before letting the curse slip. “It’s freezing out there.”

He’s gone, rummaging through the massive hall closet, before reappearing wearing his own coat and holding an armful of the other guys’ outerwear.

“Who’s winning?” Holly teases, while you all watch Mat struggle to pull a beanie on without dropping anything. He fails spectacularly and gives up when he realizes that everything’s slowly falling to the floor.

Mat scoffs. “The kids, obviously. They’re unhinged,” he grins widely and you can tell he’s having a blast. There’s a chorus of his name being shouted from outside and Mat scoops up the dropped outerwear before dashing off to rejoin the fun.

Sydney leans in and nudges your side gently. “He’s going to be a great dad,” she whispers, smiling knowingly.

You chew at the inside of your cheek and manage a barely convincing smile. “One day, definitely,” you reply, holding an Oreo for Alice to chew at.

She shoots you a little side eyed look and you studiously ignore her, focusing on telling Reese Cizikas how great her house looks. Things start to get messy - well, messier - after a while and the kids get antsy until they’re turned loose from the table to run off around the house. While you clean up the candy, the guys come back inside with the older kids and you can’t help but laugh at how the three youngest men, including your fiancé, have kids hanging off of them.

“If you kids let go of the guys,” Holly says warmly, “I’ll pass around some hot chocolate.”

It’s a mad scramble for the kids to abandon Mat, Noah, and Oliver - and they actually look mildly offended when the kids just toss their jackets back at them in their dash for hot chocolate. You take some of the gear from Mat and lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, “don’t look so sad, you can have another play date with your friends soon.”

“Menace,” Mat grins, reaching around to pinch at your ass.

“I’ll text Kristy,” you giggle, continuing the joke, “Jack can come over and beat you at mini sticks again.”

“I’m gonna toss your phone into the ocean,” Mat deadpans.

You lower your voice and lean closer to him to whisper, “how will I send all those pictures you like?”

“You can keep the phone,” Mat replies immediately and you laugh, tugging at the open edges of his jacket. He pulls you close and you wrap one arm around his waist, his body warm even though his hands and face are cold. You bury your face in his chest and stifle a yawn. Mat’s hand is warming your back where he rubs it up and down your spine. “Still feeling gross after that bug?”

“Not gross,” you tilt your head to look up at him, still cuddled against his chest, “just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“We can head home, if you want,” Mat offers, but you shake your head again. You like it when the whole group is together and you want to keep enjoying the time with your friends.

You pull back slightly from Mat’s arms, his hands still resting on your back. “I just need a little bit of sugar and I’ll be good to go,” you smile at him. His eyes twinkle before he leans down and plants a smacking, dramatic kiss on your lips.

“Good to go?” He teases when he pulls back.

“Not that kind of sugar,” you giggle, delighted by him always.

“You guys are disgustingly cute,” Ashlee says, breaking into the Mat Barzal bubble that you’ve been enveloped in for the last few minutes. You startle a little and some of the other wives laugh.

“Oh god, she forgot we’re even here,” Sydney shakes her head, an exaggerated frown on her lips.

Meg smirks, “thank god we interrupted them before it went too far.”

Your cheeks are warm from the teasing and Mat just turns on the charm, grinning widely at his teammates’ wives. “It’s all part of the Barzal charm,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“What charm?” Bo chirps, coming into the kitchen with Tulsa on his hip. “All you’re good at is league mandated iPad time.”

“Don’t forget all the time he spends sitting on his ass on the ice,” Noah grins wickedly.

“Tell us,” Casey asks you, “is it part of his charm when he messes up common sayings?”

You giggle, sucking your lips into your mouth when Mat glares down at you.

“You guys suck,” Mat flips them off, immediately apologizing when he realizes some of the kids are still in the room. “Sorry, Holly, Meg.”

They waive off his apologies, sending him into the den with a tray of snacks for the kids. They’re watching a movie, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer if the familiar music is to be believed, and you know half the dads are also in the den, napping on the couches. Mat disappears for a while too and you leave him to the movie, knowing he’s exhausted. You get to hang out with the girls for a few more hours, interspersed with hugs and drawings from Gunnar and Winnie, before the party starts to break up.

Everyone’s gone slowly and then all at once, and you and Mat are walking the three blocks towards your house. He bumps your hip with his as you walk, his fingers laced with yours. “You coming to the game tomorrow?” He asks, getting a sense of what the week ahead will look like.

“Mhm,” you hum, “I’m going to go with Syd, so I’m not sure if I’ll end up staying the whole game. So make sure you do all the good stuff in the first.”

Mat bumps your hip again and you laugh, the sound echoing in the cold air. “I save all my best stuff for you,” he retorts, unlocking the front door and letting you step inside before him. He winks at you, his entire face scrunching up in his terrible attempt.

You scoff at him and flip the switches to turn on the Christmas lights, bathing the whole house in the warm glow of multi-colored string lights. You sigh happily, loving the over the top decorations you’d insisted on and the way the entire house smells like pine and cinnamon from diffusers and candles left open but unlit. Mat crowds your space and kisses the back of your neck.

“Couch time?” He mumbles against your skin.

“Couch time,” you agree, muffling another yawn.

You race to the bedroom, changing out of your clothes as quick as possible to get into comfy sweats and sweatshirts. Mat tosses a pillow at your face to distract you, but you swat it out of the air, nearly getting your foot stuck in the leg of your sweats.

“You like when I’m a weighted blanket,” Mat says, voice muffled by the sweatshirt he’s pulling over his head. “Why are you racing me to be on top?”

You don’t waste time pulling on your sweatshirt in the room and instead dart back out to the hallway and skip down the stairs, flopping onto the couch in just your sweats, completely topless. Mat’s hot on your heels and grumbles when he sees you yanking the fabric over your head. Smugly, you reply, “I don’t wanna be squished today. I want to use you as a body pillow.”

He submits to his fate and flops down onto the couch, oversized enough that the two of you could lay side by side and be comfortable, and opens his arms for you to crawl onto his chest. The both of you love the soft pressure of the other person laying on top of them so you’ve had to come up with a contest over the course of your relationship - first person on the couch gets to be on top. More often than not, you end up sprawled over Mat since it’s an easy way to transition into couch sex.

Now, you’re so tired you definitely will be keeping all of your clothes on. But you hum happily when you settle on top of him, your knees tucked nicely against either side of his hips, straddling his lap. When you curl up against his chest, your lower back stretches pleasantly and you wiggle a little, wrapping your arms around his torso and tucking your head under his chin. Mat’s arms wrap around you, one hand covering the back of your head so his fingertips can stroke against the shell of your ear.

He pulls the decorative blanket off the back of the couch with his other hand and arranges it over your bodies, making sure his feet stick out on the end so he doesn’t overheat. “You good?” He asks, his jaw bumping against the top of your head when he speaks. You nod against him and close your eyes, settling into his warmth. Mat turns on the TV, flipping it to ESPN before letting his hand rest low on the curve of your back, fingers grazing the top of your ass.

Mat’s heart beats steadily under your cheek and his hand is warm where it rests on your head. Couch time is exactly what you needed today. Your eyelids flutter shut every so often and you must fall asleep for a little nap because the next thing you know, it’s darker outside and Mat is running his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Hey,” he whispers and you lift your head to look at him blearily, momentarily confused.

“Hi,” you mumble sleepily, brushing your nose against his chin. “What time’s it?”

“Just after 4:30,” he replies and now the TV’s playing a rerun of The Office. He chuckles at a joke and rubs his fingertips against your scalp in a little massage. “You’ve been out for like forty-five minutes and I would’ve let you sleep, but I’m starving.”

Your heart skips a beat and you’re fully awake now. “Oh, same,” you say casually, rolling off of Mat and tucking yourself against his side. “I actually would love a piece of that gingerbread house that I ordered.”

“Gingerbread house?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “When’d you get that?”

“It was delivered the other day,” you explain. “I wanted something cute for our first engaged Christmas.”

Mat sits up, taking you with him and you wiggle around so you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing him. “I totally forgot to show it to you,” you shrug, proud of yourself for being so normal. “But why don’t you go take a look and bring me back a piece?”

“Yeah, okay,” Mat shrugs, scratching your scalp once before getting up. “Dessert before dinner usually means eating you out, but gingerbread is cool too.”

He says it so casually that you don’t really process what he says until he’s already in the kitchen. You bounce up on your knees to look at him over the back of the couch, yelping his name when it finally sinks in. He’s laughing as he pulls the new box down from where it’s been sitting on top of the fridge. “Took you long enough,” he laughs, popping the top of the white cardboard. “That nap really must’ve taken it out of you.”

You scowl at him but don’t reply, anxiously waiting to see his reaction to the gingerbread house. He pulls it out of the box and his lips quirk up in a little smile. “It’s cute,” he says, looking at the house, professionally decorated. “Way better than the ones the kids made today.”

A laugh works its way out of your mouth as he studies it, taking in the details. “Huh,” he mutters, more to himself than anything else, “three people. Must’ve read your order wrong, Squeaks.”

“Oh?” You breathe. “There were supposed to be me and you…” You trail off.

“Yeah, they’re here,” Mat reads the little names iced onto the gingerbread people. “There’s you and Mat and…” he falters, squinting at the third figure, bringing it closer to his face, “Baby B?”

He looks over at you, forehead creased and eyebrows drawn together over his nose. “Baby B?” He repeats the question and you smile carefully at him, hand sliding across the back of the couch so your fingertips rest on your stomach.

“Baby B,” you confirm shakily. Tears well at your lower lash line and you watch Mat for his reaction.

He blinks at you, eyes darting between your face, your stomach, and the gingerbread figure held in his hand. “Wait? Seriously?” He sounds dazed and you can’t blame him. You were freaked out when you took the test a week and a half ago. It’s been the hardest secret you’ve ever had to keep. “You’re…there’s a baby?” His eyes are wide and his jaw hangs open a little.

You nod. “It’s, um, been hanging out for like six-ish, seven weeks,” you whisper, flattening your hand over your stomach. Mat’s eyes track your movement and he exhales a shaky breath.

Mat breathes your name and crosses the room in a few large strides. He cups your cheeks in his hands and studies your face, wiping at the tears that drip from your eyes. “Hey, c’mon, why’re you crying?” He asks, panic edging his tone.

“I know it’s earlier than we planned,” you shrug, “I’m going to be insanely pregnant at the wedding. We won’t get to be, like, newlyweds at all and the honeymoon’s going to have to change or be cancelled altogether.” You ramble on, all of your stress releasing in run-on sentences. You already love the baby, but getting pregnant before the wedding definitely wasn’t the plan.

Mat chuckles a little and you realize it sounds a little watery, like he’s trying to hold back his own emotion. “We’ll figure it out,” he says gently, squatting down so he’s closer to your eye level. “I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Yeah,” you confirm again. “Are you freaking out? Because I’m freaking out.”

“I’m definitely freaking out,” Mat confirms on a hysterical little laugh. His fingers tremble a little against your cheeks. “But it’s a good thing, right? Like, we’re gonna make the coolest babies.”

You nod. “They’re going to have amazing hair,” you giggle wetly.

Mat leans forward to kiss you softly, tasting the tears on your lips. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, quietly breathing with you. “That, uh, wasn’t a stomach bug last week, was it?”

“No,” you shake your head against his. “I’ve had some pretty aggressive mid-morning sickness this past week.”

“How the hell did I miss that?” He asks and it’s mostly rhetorical because Mat is not the most observant of men on a good day, let alone during a week and a half period where they’re playing a game every other day.

You lean back and tap at your stomach with your fingers, “baby’s already pretty good about not inconveniencing you. It was bad after you’d already left for practice.”

“I kind of can’t believe our baby’s in there,” Mat says, looking down at your stomach. His hands fall to the back of the couch and his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t.

“Me either,” you admit. “And I’ve had a week to get used to the idea.”

“Shit, Squeaks,” he shakes his head again, a little smile playing on his lips, “a baby. We’re gonna be in charge of a real baby.”

Your answering laugh is a little hysterical. You’re obviously not the first of your friends to have a baby, but it feels insane that you’re here, especially before the wedding. Your parents are going to be so annoyed. “Good thing we have friends who know what they’re doing,” you murmur, covering Mat’s hands with yours and lacing your fingers together. You look at your joined fingers and your heart lurches in your chest. Quietly, you ask him, “we’re going to be good at this, right?”

“Hell if I know,” Mat admits. You frown at him - that was less than reassuring, but at least he’s honest. He jolts a little, his eyebrows lifting into his hairline, and you cock your head at him in a silent question. “I realized,” he says, a little sheepishly, “that I never said I was happy about this, but I am. I’m excited, scared as shit, but excited.”

“Me too,” you let loose a relieved laugh. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear Mat say he was happy about the baby. It’s been a weight on your shoulders ever since that positive pink line appeared on the test. “Um, there is one thing you could do for me right now though.”

Mat perks up and nods, “yeah, whatever you need, babe. You’re going to be so sick of me and how attentive I’ll be.”

You have no doubt about that, but for now - “can you get me a piece of that gingerbread? I’ve been craving it since the stupid thing was delivered yesterday.”

Mat laughs and stands up to retrieve the cookie, much to your delight. It’s been taunting you for more than twenty-four hours now and you nibble at the gingerbread version of yourself happily. Mat flops down onto the couch next to you and you tuck yourself up against his side. His hand absently runs up and down your arm, his eyes focused in the direction of the TV, but not actually paying attention.

You’re quiet at his side, knowing he needs to process the news. You were lucky in that you were alone when you found out so you could freak out without Mat seeing just how scared you were. Now that it’s been a week of knowing and Mat’s reaction wasn’t a total meltdown, you can relax a little, even start to get excited about having a little summer baby. Mat will get to spend time with you and the baby since you’re due in late August, by your admittedly shaky math.

Subconsciously, Mat’s hand wanders down your side, splaying on your waist, fingers stretching to cover part of your stomach. He rubs his thumb against your ribs and a little huff of disbelief leaves his throat. “Too bad you’re not due before the wedding,” he says, looking down at you with a little smile, “she could’ve been in the wedding, like Gracie at Bearsy’s wedding.”

Your throat clogs with emotion, thinking of your baby being at the wedding, and you bury your face in Mat’s side so he can’t see how tears well up in your eyes again. “You can’t say cute shit like that to me right now,” you mumble, “my hormones are in overdrive.”

Mat pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling his thighs. He kisses the corner of your mouth and you sigh, resting your arms on his shoulders. “Let me know when I can start saying cute shit,” his grin is shit-eating, “because I just realized that there’s a chance we could put the baby in the Cup this summer.”

“Gotta win it first,” you counter, teasing him. He rolls his eyes and lets his hands drift over your stomach, broad palms covering the expanse of the still flat area.

“Got a new motivation now,” Mat replies and even though he still looks stunned, you can see how excited he’s getting about the baby.

You look down at where his hands cover your stomach and it’s all too easy to picture his hands holding a newborn baby with his eyes and your nose, a little shock of Mat’s dark hair on its head.

You can’t wait.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #nhl fic

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rusmii · 3 months

Text

ps. me when writing this 😐. i feel sorry for my incubus!chuuya wanters waiting for his return, so im breaking my semi hiatus js for you guys <3 after this you guys HAVE to wait until feb 14th.

incubus!chuuya x fem!reader

THINKING ABT INCUBUS!CHUUYA...

bringing up an aphrodisiac in the middle of your conversation, the smooth chocolate shell of the bar reflecting your shocked expression from his offer.

you relent and give in, excited to try out this new method of sex with said incubus. chuuya only breaks off a piece, giving you the rest of the bar to eat. when questioned why, he smirks and explains to you that incubus are naturally horny — thus making the tiny piece of chocolate equal to two full aphrodisiac chocolate bars.

it doesn't take long for the aphrodisiac to kick in. it's effects starting to take toll on your body as you swallow the last bite — watching as chuuya now eats his piece.

after ridding your guys' stripped clothes (chuuya still with his pants on for some reason), chuuya has you spread open beneath him, his hot breath fanning just above your folds. his already twitching dick up and hard for you.

he starts by licking at it, the sudden long strip that ran across your pussy to your clit was enough to send your body into jolts. but what a tease he was in this unfortunate situation you agreed to! he doesn't go any further past your flaps — a breathy chuckle hot on your cunt whenever he laughs at your whines.

oh, he knows what you want — the writhe of your body wasn't so subtle. the little twitches here and there, the clutch of the sheets whenever he dips his tongue in between your folds just a little bit, the annoyed sigh you let out when you don't get the relief your body needs — all of it thrilling and sending waves of dopamine through his brain.

"just a little longer, sweetheart? promise to finally eat 'ya out if you let me savor 'yer taste." sweet, sweet words coming from the incubus' mouth. sweet, sweet empty promises coming from the incubus' mouth. his slow swirling tongue making sure to flick your clit the right way, cutting off any voice of thought that was sure to be replaced by a moan.

protesting against his demands, your thighs start caving his head in as a last-ditch effort. chuuya clicks his tongue in annoyance, shoving your legs apart and moving away. "nah, stop that shit," he tuts disappointedly. "but chuuya!" — "want me to eat 'ya out, then wait like a good girl and let me foreplay."

you groan, foreplay was usually a need in sex, but you weren't feeling particularly patient tonight. the aphrodisiac making its course through your bloodstream had made it harder to focus. every little twinge of air or hot breath that left chuuyas mouth was leaving your senses all tingly.

without waiting for an answer, chuuya shifts atop of you — his mouth now on your clit, using his tongue to apply just the right amount of pressure.

giving your clit a few more swirls, chuuya grips your thighs to keep them in place when your body starts twitching from the onslaught pleasure. your hands found its way into chuuyas hair, the groan he let out sent mini vibrations coreing around the lower half of your body.

and with a final pop, he plants a kiss on it before dipping his head further into your legs.

you gasp; finally. finally, you feel it — his tongue moving past your folds and into your cunt. whining his name, the grip on his hair only kept getting tighter. at the same time, chuuya groans. shit — you were so fucking wet for him. beautiful arousal dripping down his chin and onto the sheets as his jaw flexes.

"chuuya, chuuya — chuuya!" his name being the only thing your voice could remember to say was sending tingles down his body — his dick twitching up and down from his own arousal.

your slippery entrance being easy to enter, his tongue wiggling itself inside along with two fingers. hearing your strained moan when he curls on that one spot was enough to have him give in and do whatever you wanted from that point on.

he pulls out his fingers, replacing it with his extended tongue. the long piece of flesh surprising you. an unexpected thing to feel but you weren't complaining when chuuya was swirling his tongue inside your cunt.

chuuya wraps his forearms around your thighs, mushing your wet pussy against his mouth. he groans when he's able to taste everything — your arousal being slobbered everywhere by him, his nose right on your clit making you feel every breath he let out.

his tongue moved freely inside you. the long piece of flesh deep and fast — rubbing against the spot that makes you squeal and squirm.

not being able to vocalize any praise, chuuya rubs soft soothing circles on your upper abdomen. the act barely noticeable but subtle enough to help ease you up.

feeling your approaching high, you squeeze your thighs as a warning for him before your body starts twitching uncontrollably. chuuya doesn't let the spasm of your walls stop him though, only going faster and faster — your arousal making a puddle underneath you guys.

fuck, such a treat you were. lewd and explicit noises coming from your pussy as he ate you out were just him slurping up everything your cunt had to offer. his energy and hunger fading with every new ounce of arousal seeping into his mouth.

the final and long awaited cat-like arch formed, your legs now kicking up as your body quivers uncontrollably.

with a final wide swirl of his tongue, you start squealing — unintended blabber escaping while chuuya is blasted with a burst of your sweet, sweet cum. he tilts his head in a way to capture every single drop, not leaving a single drop to be wasted in the cute puddle you made.

his tongue still swirling gently, slower and slower as you come down from your high — until you were moaning from overstimulation instead of your climax.

when chuuya felt like he drunk up every last ounce of your cum, he pushes himself away — his lower face wet, slick, and sticky from your cream. he had a smile on his face though. an ear to ear grin staring down right at your dazed face.

"such a good girl. you deserved that orsgasm for feeding me so well. just need to fuck the rest of the aphrodisiacs out of our systems now don't we?" he suggests as he starts unbuckling his belt.

taglist (comment on there if u guys want😋): @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani

ok guys no more smut till feb 14th <3

BELONGS TO @rusmii DONT STEAL >:((

#i wrote this shit at 4am cause i couldnt sleep forgive me for any errors #[ৎ୭ 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠]#chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #chuuya smut #chuya x reader #chuya x you #chuya x y/n #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #incubus!chuuya #incubus!chuuya x reader

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velvetmud · 8 months

Text

loosely tied to concepts from my other works with joel making at-home videos

warning(s): explicit 18+, daddy kink, graphic dirty talk, messy BJs, sex tapes, boyfriends dad!joel au... i rest my case

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“Mmhm. Pose with it, yeah—just like that,” Joel heaves, rapid heartbeat thumping in all the right places. He watches with eager intent as your little fingers slide up and down the flushed skin of his hard length. Takes extra time marveling the way your fingers barely touch when your fist attempts to wrap around the hard middle of his base.

The lense focused on you right as his pointer finger pressed record. Joel’s legs unconsciously spread even further, inviting you in for full access to him. His spongey head leaks a bit as he keeps eyeing you, riding out every shock of pleasure bursting through his navel with every innocent strip of your palm and lick of your tongue.

“Likin’ the way Daddy’s cock tastes, huh pretty girl?”

A laugh followed up his own question while you try and fail to nod and hum around the mouthful of girth.

“Fuck I love it when you hum like that. More. That’s right. Suck that allll down,” he guides you, pointing the camera at every action as you lean in even more to fulfill all of his wishes. A helpless whine buzzed from his throat, gripping onto a decent clump of your scalp for dear life while the sounds of your busy wet slurping fill the air.

His cock, wet with dribbles of precum and spit, slaps against his belly right after you’d hollowed out your cheekbones and released him with a loud suck.

It comes as no surprise how much it renders Joel a bratty, cursing, demanding mess.

The camera shook in the fragile grasp of his hands, still recording all of his growls of dirty motivation. He slaps your lips with the tip in the middle of a grunt, centering your face perfectly into frame. You stare at the bright lens with an empty, cock-hungry stare while you wet your lips and spit on his girth some more. Joel hissed as the warm trail of saliva drips down, lubing him up even more.

His untrustworthy grip still tries remaining steady while you gulp several inches down all in one go, drawing a long sigh from above.

The pudgy head of his dick meets the back of your throat, slicking him up deliciously.

“Think he’ll find out ‘bout us after this?” he asks rhetorically, condescendingly. He pinched the bone of your chin with a dopey smile towards the camera. “My poor baby’s throat’s gonna be so sore tonight. How’re you gonna explain that to him when you won’t even be able to talk, angel? Huh?”

You drunkenly swirl the flat of your tongue, slobbering on the veins and lapping up anything dripping down.

But you don’t find the words or the energy to conjure up an answer. You’ve become too lost, too deep in the moment giving your own boyfriend’s dad another long orgasm he’s been saving up just for your face.

“Gonna tell him his dad’s thick cock fucked and wrecked this throat all night?” he asks, pointer finger dragging down your aching jaw. He continues with a whisper. “That I split that pussy open on it whenever you come over to see him, too?”

His hips find a steady respectable grind, lifting up off the bed to feed you his tip. You welcome all of his thrusts, eager to taste more of him the closer he gets. You’re shameless, frantically nodding your head up and down in joyous agreement while you simultaneously slurp up the juices dripping down his naked lap.

“Yeah, that’s my girl. Fuck. He doesn’t know what to do with you, but I always do,” Joel damn near growls, possessive as his hips stutter trying to remain on beat.

His meaty thighs crowd the sides of your head while the camera captures the depravity of it all.

A man kicking off his fifties, choking his son’s girlfriend with his cock, stuffing you so full you both couldn’t take it anymore.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it— you’re gonna make Daddy cum like that, shit, drink me up baby. Yes.”

His howls are almost always unabashedly uncontained, the lid flying off the rest of his physical restraint. His hips fly up and the camera tilts over in his haze, still catching side glimpses of part of your face swallowing drops of his milk up. It drips down the corners of your mouth, thick and sweet as icing. His chest heaves with the heavy nonstop breathing, emptying everything he has into you.

“Fuck, just look at her. My girl, mouth full of my cum,” he narrates to the camera, revelling in your messy pink cheeks. You still act shy and fucked out as you lick up any of the leftover evidence. Clean off your face and his thighs, any remanents of his spend are left settling in your tummy.

“All clean,” you rasp, grinning while you stick your tongue out at the camera.

“And she swallowed it all,” he praised. Pets the top of your head with his unoccupied hand before tilting you up to chase your lips with his. The camera stays on and, though out of frame, captures the sounds of your lips smacking. Of Joel tasting remanents of himself.

After a smooth, long kiss, he breaks away with a hurried breath, turning off the camera and tossing it mindlessly to the side before whimpering to you:

“He won’t love you like I love you.”

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this one happened so randomly lmao but thank you for all your kind words on anything ive ever written, it never got unnoticed n I always stay crying:) <3 appreciate you

next boyfriend’s dad!joel fic

#joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller fanfic

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dandelions-143 · 8 days

Text

Late Night

Masterlist

MDNI

Pairing: Bang Chan x f!reader

Genre: one-shot, smut, fade to black

Warnings: nudity, oral sex (f. receiving), very soft praise kink, unprotected sex.

{Forgive me if the smut is lacking and that it’s also short. Working on improvements}

Summery: You come home late from work. Your long distance boyfriend comes to make sure you relax..

You walked into your Australian studio apartment throwing your bag down by the door and kicking off your heels. It was a Friday night and the sun had long since disappeared. Allowing the full moon to shine brightly in all its glory. Your apartment was softly illuminated by that pale grey light so you felt no need to flip on any lights.

With a tired groan you plop yourself down on your bed and lay back. Just a minutes rest you thought to yourself as your eyelids instantly become heavy once you got comfortable.

It only felt like a few minutes had passed when you heard what sounded like footsteps walking up to you and stopping at the end of the bed. Work had been hectic and all the stress of the day made your body heavier than usual, more tired than usual. You wanted to open your eyes but they were so heavy.

You only turned your head with a heavy sigh when you felt the mattress dip down from the weight of something. As if someone was getting on the bed with you. Their movements making you move ever so slightly. The sleep you were in was too good and too deep for you to react but your brain was slowly beginning to wake.

You felt the cool night air hit your thighs as someone slowly began to raise your skirt up. Large warm hands caressed the soft skin of your inner thighs. Am I dreaming? Another thought drifted through your mind. Another rush of cool air when you felt your silk white panties being slid gently off your hips, over your plump ass and down your thighs.

You were completely exposed to whoever was now settling themselves between your spread thighs. “So fucking pretty..” you heard a male voice whisper to you? To himself?

Long, strong fingers slid very slowly between your soaking wet slit, teasing your swollen clit causing you to let out a relaxed sigh. “Does that feel good, baby?” His voice drifted up to you making you stir a little more. “Chan?” You mumbled sleepily yet you made no effort to open your eyes.

“I fucking missed my baby girl..” he whispered between slow wet kisses up your inner thighs and around your soft mound.

Chan then spread your folds to expose your pink bud and began to slowly kiss and suck on that special spot.

You finally open your eyes with a quiet whimper escaping your parted lips. Your eyes focus on your beautiful boyfriend lying down on his stomach between your thighs. His strong arms wrapped around your legs holding you wide open for him.

His deep brown eyes locked on yours as he slowly begins eats you like you’re his one and only meal. You run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently. His tongue was moving so slow it was almost painful.

Chan grips your hips roughly holding you down when you start to become a squirming little mess beneath his hands. You wanted and needed his lips and tongue, moving your hips in slow circles seeking out that heavenly friction.

Just as you start to feel the low burn in the pit of your stomach. That familiar climax starting to form Chris stopped and pulled back. His full pink lips and chin glistening with your wetness. He licked his lips and crawled up your body like a predator to his prey.

“Please don’t stop..” you whine to him, your eyelids still heavy with sleep and lust as you watch his shirtless form move over you. “Shhh, baby. Don’t worry I’ll take good care of you.” He smirked and leaned down kissing you passionately. His tongue slipping through your hungry lips to tangle effortlessly with yours.

Your needy hands instantly wrap around his broad shoulders, feeling his muscular back. He pulls away once again to remove the rest of his clothes. His erect cock springing from his boxers and you’re fully awake now. He takes a moment to stare down at you before he moves back over you again.

He gently pulls your shirt off and unhooks your bra with one hand as his lips explore your exposed neck then travel down to your now exposed breasts. His full lips finding your nipples and sucking them hungrily. Nipping at the soft buds his eyes stayed on your face the entire time.

Chan pulls your hands off of his body, placing them above your head holding them in one of his large hands while the other held his member in place so he could rub himself over your soft clit.

Getting himself wet from how slick you were. “Dripping for me, princess.” His husky voice was low in the darkened room. Your soft little whimpers grew louder only making him smile more. He loved teasing you, making you squirm.

“Have you been a good girl while I was away?” Chan leaned down closer to your lips, you could feel his breath caress your face. All you could do was nod a yes. “Good girl.. have you missed me? Have you missed this?” Chan then kissed your lips after you whined a little frustrated, “yes.. please..”

That seemed to satisfy him enough. His grip tightened on your wrists as he slid slowly into you. Chris let out a groan feeling you tighten around him. “That’s my good girl..you fit me so well.” He nipped at your bottom lip as he began to pump slowly, bringing himself all the way out then sinking himself completely inside of you. Between soft moans against your lips Chan whispered, “fuck.. show me just how much you missed me, baby girl.”

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x you #bang chan skz #bang christopher chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan smut #smut #bangchan #chan x reader #bang chris

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cheolism · 1 year

Text

couch comfort

✧ cheol x reader

✧ summary: maybe the bad stuff isn't so bad when you have your boyfriend, seungcheol, there to help you with the weight.

✧ wc is approx 6.3k

✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor; being in love. work sucks. little angst? reader talks of seungcheol being their first real crush/infatuation/love? seungcheol pouts a lot.

✧ note: if there is angst in here, it's very little! this fix purely exists for comfort. you make out at one point. there's another cat based off of my childhood cat. there's absolutely no plot, just kisses and cuddles and comfort. a lot of reflection abt your relationship w cheol at the beginning but it's not all like that lol. photo mentioned at the end is one of the photos at the top!!! this is not edited.

The past week, while definitely not the worst week of your life, was definitely up there.

You sighed, leaning forward and letting your forehead rest against the wheel. Taking a deep breath, you held it for a handful of seconds before releasing it; just as your therapist suggested. Then you thought of Seungcheol and his fluffy hair.

Feeling somewhat less stressed, you grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat and made your way inside, trying your best to ignore the bitter winter air that nipped at your thighs and legs. Ignoring the cold did nothing to actually prevent it, however, and you still fumbled with your apartment keys for a good minute before you were able to select the correct key and enter.

You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat.

Stumbling away from the door and to the living room, you withdrew your phone from your pocket and slid open the new notification from Seungcheol.

Seungcheol: it sounds like you had a rough day. im sorry. i wish i u didn’t. if u still feel up for it, i can be at ur apartment in twenty. but if u want to stay in or b alone tonight, i understand baby

There was a meow from below, and that was all the warning you had before your ancient tortoise shell cat was leaping onto your chest, her weight startling you for a moment. You peered at Wolfie, her lime colored eyes peering back at you. Then she meowed again, and you couldn’t help but laugh at it, as she sounded as if she had been a serious chain smoker for fifty years.

Wolfie ignored you, crawling forward and rubbing her head underneath your chin. She began purring, a deep thing that you could only truly appreciate if you were completely silent. You held your phone up in the air to type, leaving just enough space for Wolfie to curl up on your chest.

You: ya!!!! I actually just got home 🧡💛 Wolfie immediately curled up on me, so I’ll have to ask her about getting up to get ready.

You then snapped a picture of Wolfie on your chest and sent it to him. Letting your phone fall to the ground beside the couch, you began running your hands over Wolfie. Once upon a time, her fur had been soft and silky; it practically shined. But age had caught up to your precious companion, and you constantly fought back the urge to cry over how tough and wiry her fur felt underneath your fingertips.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head sink completely into the pillows. You had been joking to Seungcheol about getting Wolfie’s permission to get up, but even without her added twelve pounds on your chest, you would’ve had a hard time getting up. It was as if you were Atlas, the Titan who carried the world on his back, and the weight of it was keeping you down.

Not to be misunderstood: you didn’t hate dates with Seungcheol, and most definitely didn’t despise time spent with him. As a matter of fact, you looked forward to every Friday, knowing that not only it marked the beginning of the weekend but was also your assigned date night with Seungcheol.

If you were honest with yourself, you looked forward to waking up every morning. It was stupid and cheesy, and if your teenage self could see you they would shake their head and roll their eyes. But whenever you opened your eyes, Wolfie’s weight resting on your chest, you immediately thought of him. He was the first person you texted in the morning, whether it be about a particular dream you had, something you saw in the news, or even the weather. You couldn’t help but want to talk to Seungcheol first thing in the morning, just as you couldn’t help but message him until you went to bed.

If you were frank with yourself, which was asking a lot, you wanted to talk to him all the time. It was so --

When you were a teenager, you had looked at your friends who were proclaiming their love for their partners only within a few months of dating with considerable scorn. After all, what did sixteen and eighteen year olds know about love? You had offered a listening ear to their troubles, empathizing with their adoration for their partner, while also mentally rolling your eyes and keeping yourself occupied with your books and music.

So you didn’t know what to do about Seungcheol. You didn’t know what to do about wanting to send him pictures of all the pretty flowers you saw; videos of Wolfie being cute and cuddly; pictures of sunsets and sunrises, of cute stuffed animals and all other pretty things that reminded you of Choi Seungcheol.

You inhaled, held it; released.

If you were frank with yourself, if you stood back and analyzed everything, all the emotions you felt for Seungcheol and all the things you wanted to do for him and all the things you dreamt of doing with him, it sounded like you maybe felt something more than the fluttering adoration and infatuation you had at the start of your relationship when he asked you out.

But you didn’t want to analyze that too much.

You groaned slightly, stretching out your legs. Wolfie let out a noise of protest before purring, her attempt at getting you to remain laying down.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered, your hand going to rest on her head. You used your thumb to pet the space between her eyes. “I want to stay cuddled up with you forever, too. But I also want to see Cheolie.”

She adjusted herself on your chest, purring on. You did want to stay there in the dark with Wolfie, just as you had done during your early college days. Many evenings were spent like that, the two of you in your own space. More often than not, you felt like the world was on your shoulders -- just like Atlas -- and it was Wolfie’s own needs and wants that dragged you out of bed.

The past week had you debating on canceling with Seungcheol. Nothing major had happened, of course, but instead a bunch of small incidents and interactions that left bad tastes in your mouth had piled up. Just as a bunch of small pebbles pile up to build a mountain, these small things had piled to the point where you just wanted to turn away from the world.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to, more importantly. You didn’t want this past week, no matter how bad it might have been, to impede on your time with Seungcheol. You didn’t want to give up your time with him, not when it was -- not when he was -- so precious to you.

You settled an arm around Wolfie and slowly began to rise; she let out a few squeaks of protest. When Wolfie realized you weren’t going to stop, she huffed and wiggled out of your grasp. Tail high in the air, she walked over your legs to get to the arm rest opposite of you. She climbed on top of it and sat rather primly, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Are you my pretty little lady,” you asked, voice sweet. You shifted to reach out and pet her. “My pretty baby.”

Wolfie allowed you to pet her for a handful of seconds before she sharply twisted her head towards the front door. She sat, waiting, until there was a series of sharp knocks. Wolfie began growling deep in her throat, hackles raising.

“Y/n!” A deep voice called out, knocking stopping.

You cursed, springing up from the couch. You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it away from you, swatting at the cat hairs that had decided to take up room and board on your shirt. “Coming!”

Wolfie ran beside you as you made your way to the door, her tail raised straight in the air. She jumped on the little tree you had next to the door, letting out a croaky yowl when you weren’t fast enough to open it.

“Sorry, Wolfie, sorry --” You fumbled with the lock for a moment before successfully unclicking it. You wrenched open the door, a large, nearly comically so, smile already on your face. “Seungcheol!”

He was grinning back at you, eyes twinkling. Seungcheol was dressed in all black, from his heavy winter coat that was a size too big to his pants and boots. The beanie he wore was the only spot of color on him, it being a vibrant orange.

As always, despite his humble outfit, he was handsome and beautiful.

Something shifted inside of you. It was as if you had done the breathing exercise your therapist had suggested, but instead of lifting only a few pebbles off your shoulders it relieved you of half a mountain’s worth of weight.

You stepped back, letting him come into your apartment enough to shut the door behind him. Wolfie hopped off of her cat tree and went to him, winding herself around her legs. You went to follow suit, arms reaching out to him, but he stopped you.

Subconsciously your lips began to pout at his refusal. Seungcheol laughed, his hands going to his zipper. “Let me take off my coat before you hug me. It’s cold outside.”

“I don’t care about it being cold,” you mumbled, but did as he said.

As soon as he had his coat unzipped, Seungcheol reached out for you. He opened his coat just enough so you wouldn’t be touching the cold outer layer, his hands guiding you to rest against him.

He was warm; that was your first thought.

His arms surrounded you, pulling you close enough to where your nose was smashed against his chest. Not that you minded. Your arms slipped around him in turn, sliding underneath his coat and taking hold of the back of his hoodie. One of his hands went to the back of your head, fingertips sinking in your hair, and he guided you to rest your cheek against him.

Your eyes slipped shut of their own will. Humming, you nuzzled into him, breathing him in. Before Seungcheol, you never really gave much thought into what men smelled like; all you knew was they either smelled good or bad. But Seungcheol?

He smelled like -- well, like Choi Seungcheol. You knew he used expensive cologne, that he used fabric softeners and used the same body wash and lotion so the fragrance would be amplified. Your first impression of him had been that he smelled expensive, and even now, three months into your relationship, you couldn’t help but associate him with luxury.

But now?

He smelled like home.

That was your second thought.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” His face was pressed into your hair, just as yours was his chest, and you wondered if he was breathing you in, as you were him. The hand that was in your hair began to fumble with the strands before settling, his palm heavy on your head. He began petting you, as if you were a cat or a dog, but instead of feeling indignant you felt extremely at ease.

“It’s fine.”

He hummed, the sound coming deep from within him. You felt his chest vibrate against your face. “It’s not fine. I don’t like it when you’re suffering.”

You grinned, squeezing him. “I’m not suffering, Seungcheol. Just. Had a bad week. Besides,” you pulled away slightly, just enough to peer up at him with your little grin. “Somehow it doesn’t feel all that bad anymore.”

Seungcheol laughed, hands moving to your face. He pinched at your cheeks, not hard enough to hurt, before cupping them in his hands. His dark eyes were soft and sparkling as they looked at you, and you knew that no one suited brown eyes as well as he. They were warm and inviting, gentle and soft; perfect reflections of his soul.

He didn’t speak. He licked his lips and your eyes obediently went to his mouth. Seungcheol chuckled again, his hands tilting your face up. Expectant, your eyes slipped shut.

You waited for a second. Then another. Then a few more, and your eyes were opening in confusion. He was still watching you, smiling wide enough that his gums showed.

“Seungcheol!” You whined, brow furrowing.

He giggled, a boyish thing that seemed so at odds with his masculine build and voice. But it was him.

Seungcheol swooped down, his lips finally connecting with yours. You sighed at the contact, melting against him. The two of you exchanged chaste kisses back and forth, neither in a rush. It was as if your entire week had been hurtling towards this, towards you in his arms, his lips on yours, something settling in your heart that seemed a little too much to just be infatuation.

He pressed one final kiss to your mouth before straying, his lips ghosting over your cheek. They traveled about your face, his breath warm as it hit your skin. He pressed quick kisses to the apple of your cheek, the space between your brows, your temple; you hummed, satisfaction and safety seeping into your bones and soul, and he pressed a kiss to each of your eyes.

Seungcheol’s mouth returned to yours, and when he pressed another kiss to your mouth, firm like how someone would kiss a lover long gone, you couldn’t help but beam.

His own lips twisted into a smile in response. Your teeth clacked against his, both of you grinning into each other’s mouths.

“Sorry for teasing you, baby.” He pulled away from you, hands squeezing your cheeks before he released you. You wanted to stick yourself back into his arms, but held back. “You’re just so damn cute.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes in faux annoyance. You couldn’t fight the smile that was still on your face, though. “Whatever.”

“What --” Seungcheol stopped pulling off his coat for a moment to stare at you, eyes narrowing, as if you had done something sacrilegious. “Did you just say whatever to me saying you’re cute?”

He still had that appalled look on his face. You shifted back onto your heels, watching as he slowly continued pulling off his coat. You wondered if he was teasing you. “I mean. Thanks?”

“You are cute,” he declared, voice stern with authority. You couldn’t help the look of disbelief that appeared on your face. Seungcheol sighed, as if your skepticism was disappointing. He got one arm out of his coat. “You are. I don’t know who I have to punch to convince you --”

“Violence isn’t the answer to everything,” You chided. You finally left the entryway, moving to your kitchen. “I’ll get some hot chocolate ready for you, Seungcheol!”

He gave an affirmative noise in return. You pulled out your milk and went about heating it up. As it heated, you pulled out two mugs from the dishwasher, which was so full of dishes that had been shoved in that you had to wiggle the mugs back and forth to get them out.

You felt his presence behind you, and you felt embarrassment slowly creep its way up your neck and settle on your face. Standing, you refused to look him directly in the face. “I uh. Didn’t have the energy to really do dishes that much this week.”

Arms were wrapping around your waist, Seungcheol plastering himself to your back. You put the cocoa powder in the glasses. He slouched against you, his head tilted against yours, watching. He was warm, always warm. One of his arms moved to sling around your waist, the other across your chest.

You removed the milk from the microwave, pouring it evenly in the two mugs. Seungcheol shuffled with you as you shifted, grabbing the mini-marshmallows from the cupboard. Without much thought you distributed them before leaving the package on the counter.

“They’re not even.”

“Hm?”

Seungcheol sighed against your ear, as if whatever he had seen was greatly burdening him. “The marshmallows. There’s not an even amount in both mugs.”

“Oh.” You looked down, eyeing both the mugs. “You can have the one with more of them, then.”

Clicking his tongue, Seungcheol reached around you for the package. “You deserve to have the same amount of marshmallows as I do, baby.”

Feeling slightly as if this wasn’t just about marshmallows, you watched as Seungcheol’s fingers carefully counted out five more marshmallows and put them into the left mug. Before he could settle his hand back on your waist, you grabbed it.

You slid your hand on top of his, observing. His fingers were larger than yours, both in length and width. Seungcheol was pale, remarkably so, and his fingers were no different. Your fingers slid against his hand, feeling the little hairs on his knuckles and the ring on his forefinger. Your other hand joined your first in your navigation of his hand, smoothing over his fingernails -- which he kept trimmed and maintained, more than you -- feeling the sharpness of them in contrast to the soft pads of his fingers.

Seungcheol wiggled his fingers, and you felt a little giggle escape you as you wrapped your hands around three of his fingers, squeezing. He pressed himself further into you, and you felt every inch of him against you.

“Seungcheol --”

He pulled away, pressing a kiss to your ear. You peered over your shoulder at him, tilting your head. Seungcheol looked at you for a moment before smiling that gummy grin of his, his hands going to hold your head and bring it so he could press a kiss to your temple.

“Why are you so fucking cute,” he said, each word separated by a kiss to your forehead.

Seungcheol released you, picking up both mugs. You followed him into the living room, where he immediately went to the couch. Wolfie hopped onto the coffee table in front of it, sniffing both mugs. Seungcheol went to shoo her away but you stopped him, folding yourself into the couch next to him.

“She doesn’t drink it,” you said. You reached to the ground and pulled a blanket off of it, settling the blanket over your legs. “The only people food she likes is salami. The real kind, you know? Or she likes licking bowls after I eat Captain Crunch.”

Seungcheol laughed, and like always whenever you heard the sound, you giggled along with him. He shifted further into the couch, moving his feet to prop them up on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket off of you, shooting a look at you when you protested. Seungcheol grabbed your calves, guiding your legs to drape over his thighs. He then adjusted the blanket over the both of you, tucking both of you in.

“She’s a good girl,” Seungcheol agreed, reaching out. Wolfie took the hint and jumped onto your legs, climbing fervently up to his hand so he could pet her. He chuckled, obliging. “She’s awfully needy.”

He shot you a look, coy. “Just like someone else I know.”

You puffed out your cheeks, shooting him a glare. “You’re just as needy as I am, Mr. Choi Seungcheol!”

He gasped, openly insulted. “What did I say about calling me by my full name?”

You wiggled, reaching out and tugging one of his curls. “Well, when you start accusing someone it makes them do horrible things, Mr. Seungcheol. Like using full names.”

“Oh, does it?” He grinned. With one hand still petting Wolfie, he used the other hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. You let out an indignant squawk, waving your hand around to try and get him to stop. “Does it, then? Call me Choi Seungcheol again and see what happens!”

“Okay,” you laughed. “Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol.”

His mouth dropped, affronted. Seungcheol then huffed, moving his arm off of you and turning his face. “Fine. You’re lucky Wolfie is on your legs, otherwise I’d push you off.”

You laughed at his sulking, thoroughly endeared. You shifted forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You tried to bring him down to you in order to kiss him, but Seungcheol resisted, straining against you. “Hey! I’m trying to make it better, Seungcheol!”

“Nope!” He said, shaking his head. His curls bounced with every movement, and you couldn’t help but smile in adoration. “No making it better, F/n L/n. You’ve done it.”

“Oooh,” you cooed, “I’ve done it, have I?”

He nodded, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Yep. You’ve done it.”

“What have I done?”

“Agitated me.”

You laughed, a loud thing that startled Wolfie from your lap. She jumped off of the couch, her feet hitting the hardwood with a little thump!

“I’ve agitated you!” You echoed in between laughs. You fell back against the couch, head hitting the armrest at an awkward angle, no longer able to support yourself. When you peeked back at Seungcheol, he was raising his thick eyebrows at you, which set you off giggling again.

He moved your legs off of his thighs, moving around them and guiding them to rest on the couch. You watched, your smile so big it was starting to hurt your cheeks, as he descended upon you. He placed his knees on either side of your thighs, setting his weight against them. Seungcheol bent over you, his eyes sparkling with something dangerous, one eyebrow lifted.

“Now you’ve really done it,” he murmured, voice deep. It sent something coursing through you, something that ate away at the mirth and sent heat shooting through your heart and settling deep. Seungcheol leaned over you, one hand bracing against the armrest and the other guiding your head in a more comfortable position.

“I’ve really done it,” you echoed, dumbly.

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he said, absentmindedly. His fingers traced over your ear, nail scraping lightly; your eyes fluttered as they continued to glide over your skin, moving to your jaw. You felt two of his fingers prod at your lower lip before continuing, pulling at it slightly before moving to ghost over your chin.

You hummed, tongue reaching out to wet your lips. “I can.”

He lowered himself against you. He braced both hands on either side of your head, and your eyes slid shut as his face neared.

Then your phone began to buzz.

Your eyes flew open, staring into his. He was so close. He let out a huff of breath. The two of you waited for a second, and you knew he was trying to will the noise away just as much as you, but to no avail.

You tapped his thighs, and Seungcheol let out a deep sigh. He began raising himself off of you, and you couldn’t help but give his thighs a squeeze.

Seungcheol went to the other end of the couch as you hung your front half off of it, searching the ground for where your phone had fallen earlier. Once you got it, you wiggled frantically back onto the couch. You moved to press against Seungcheol, your thighs molding into one another, elbows knocking.

Your mood, which had been repaired by Seungcheol, began to dampen as soon as you saw the contact name of the person who had messaged you. Your weariness must have appeared on your face, as Seungcheol was immediately responding. He swung his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer, leaning his head against yours.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Humming, you softly shook your head so as to not hurt his. “Just texts from my manager.”

You didn’t move to open the messages. It was like you were Atlas again. The weight returned, no matter how many pebbles and rocks Seungcheol had brushed off of your shoulders.

Seungcheol let out a little sigh. He wiggled about, turning onto his side to face you. He leaned forward and tucked his face into your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. Seungcheol laid his other arm over your stomach, hand gently squeezing at your lovehandle.

“You don’t have to answer it,” he murmured. You could feel his lips move against your skin. “You’re not in a manager position, and you’ve clocked out. It can wait.”

When you shook your head in answer, he sighed again. Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your neck, and a part of you couldn’t help but feel foolish at how your heart jumped and the corners of your lips twitched up into a little smile.

Unlocking your phone, you hurriedly tapped on your manager’s messages. Immediately you were met with five separate chat bubbles, all as unwelcome as the one before it. manager: so what was this I heard about you leaving early yesterday?

manager: I know you see other people leaving early, but that’s not something I encourage. It’s not something you should encourage, either.

manager: We rely on you to set an example to the others.

manager: You’re scheduled for a certain time, and you should be fulfilling that time.

manager: If this happens again I’ll have to look into shortening your hours.

Your mouth fell open with an audible noise, a small breath of air leaving you as you read over your manager’s messages. Seungcheol made an inquiring sound and you tilted your phone towards him so he could read the texts.

“What the fuck,” he muttered. “What the fuck. Who the fuck cares? Who the fuck -- so what you left early?”

“It was by ten minutes,” you softly said, sending out a quick affirmative to your manager to let them know you at least read the messages. “I was just. Tired, you know?”

Seungcheol straightened next to you, angling his head to read the texts again. His thick brows were narrowed, plump lips twisted into an irritable frown. “What the fuck. Ten minutes? This is over ten fucking minutes?”

“It’s just --” You broke off, fumbling with your phone for a moment. “It’s not like I do it all the time.”

“No, it’s not!” Seungcheol’s eyes were practically blazing as he looked at you, his grip on you tightening. He was fully irritated, gaze sharp and mouth firm. The urge to smile struck you for a split moment, your heart whispering with glee that he was angry over you; he was angry because of someone mistreating you.

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Seungcheol announced. His fingers dug into your shirt. “You’re a model employee. You never call in, never leave early or without doing your shit. Who the fuck are they to -- to text you like that?”

“My manager, Cheolie,” you reminded him.

He scoffed, his hand leaving your body to push his curls away from his face. “Your manager -- fuck them, fuck! You’re a good person, a good employee. You’re an amazing person and if you want to leave ten minutes early, then you should! Fuck them!”

You were grinning now, your heart practically singing. It was nothing, you supposed. It wasn’t anything to get excited about, but there was something magnificent in seeing someone get angry over how others were treating you. It was wonderful to see another person so invested in your well-being and happiness, and it made your heart feel light.

It was like he had taken the boulder on your back -- the world on Atlas’s -- and smashed it between his two hands, his anger blazing bright enough to blaze through rock.

Seungcheol’s eyes met yours, and immediately his look softened. He sighed, though his lips were beginning to curve in his sweet smile. He tucked his face back into your neck, pressing another kiss underneath your ear. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m being righteously angry on your behalf.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. “‘Righteously angry?’”

He giggled, burying his face into your skin. He kissed you again there, before Seungcheol was removing his head. Seungcheol peered up at you, and you couldn’t help but admire him. His dark curls, how they brushed against his sweet, wide eyes; his eyelashes, those ridiculously long and dark lashes that made him look ridiculously endearing.

Fuck, how you wanted him.

“You know,” he began, lips in a coy smile. “You haven’t really given me a kiss hello.”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, raising your brows. “The audacity -- I have! Do you not remember us at the door?”

He hummed, shaking his head. His curls bounced. “Nope! I distinctly recall that whole ordeal being led by me.”

“Oh, was it?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, turning to face him. You switched your phone to your left hand, and with your right you reached up and cupped his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth, and you couldn’t help but stroke his cheekbone. You then pressed your hand to his jaw. “Well, I better correct that then.”

You pressed your lips against his, three quick kisses in succession.

“Hm,” Seungcheol said. “I don’t know if that’s really enough to make up for it.”

“It’s not?” Then you pressed three more kisses. “How is that, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol shrugged. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other going to tuck your hair behind your ear. He traced his thumb over the shell of your ear before settling his hand right below it, on the hinge of your jaw. “Better, but not really satisfying, you know?”

“Not satisfying?” You asked, voice pitching high with amusement. His brown eyes were soft and twinkling, almost as if his soul was beckoning you closer, closer, to come closer and fall into his. You rose to your knees, letting your phone drop between the two of you. “I’ll just have to remedy that real quick.”

“I can tell you if it’s gonna be a quick one it won’t be real satisfying,” he chimed.

You rolled your eyes, lowering your face. His eyes were already on your lips, his tongue peeking out. “You don’t have to worry about it being satisfying.”

Then you were upon him. Your hands on his face, angling his head up and towards you. You pressed a kiss to his upper lip, chaste and sweet, before tilting your head. Like a wave intent on devouring, you moved your mouth onto his.

For a moment, Seungcheol let you work your mouth against his. Your kisses were wet and warm, and he was an obedient servant to the mastery your mouth had over him. Your hands sunk into his hair, nails scraping, fingers tugging. He was pliant beneath you, and you kissed him with the unhurried ease that all devote lovers practiced.

Then, rather impishly, you took his bottom lip between your teeth. He let out a breathy moan at it, and for a moment you couldn’t help but grin.

Pulling back, you tried to fight the surge of pride you felt as he surged after you. You subconsciously set a hand against his thick neck in an attempt to stop him from following, but Seungcheol paid no mind. Indeed, you couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through you as he continued to push, his eyes dark with intent, nevermind the feeling of your hand pushing against him.

“Why did you stop, baby,” Seungcheol murmured. His voice was dark and deep, matching his eyes, and fuck, if you weren’t ready to lay on the couch and let him have his way.

“Our hot chocolate,” you replied, heart beating so quickly it was as if a hummingbird had somehow made its home within you, “it’s cold.”

“If it’s cold now, it’ll be cold when we’re done.”

You laughed, then. You threw out your arms and wrapped him in them, bringing Seungcheol flush against you. He went easily, and you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, hands messing with his hair.

“If I had known,” you said, still giggling as you pressed a final kiss underneath his chin, “before we started dating how absolute insatiable and ridiculous you are, I wouldn’t have believed it. You really had me fooled, Seungcheol.”

He chuckled, moving his arms around you. Seungcheol pressed you into him, just as you had him. “I swear, everytime you call me ‘Seungcheol’ I lose another year of my life. Next you’ll be telling me that’s my name in your phone.”

You went still against him.

Immediately Seungcheol pulled away from you. He looked at you, scrutinizing. Then, voice severe, “Unlock your phone for me.”

That set you off laughing again. Seungcheol laid you onto the couch before searching the area for your phone. He was presenting it to you in a matter of seconds, holding it out in front of you. “Unlock it.”

“You know the passcode,” you giggled.

“No I don’t --”

You shot him a meaningful look. Then his eyes widened, and he tapped in the date of your first date. He had a satisfied look on his face when your phone unlocked, a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he glanced around your phone. You let out a soft sigh, extending your legs and settling them on either side of Seungcheol.

“What.” He blinked, then blinked again. “Seungcheol. You have my full first name? Not even a heart, not a flower or something cute, no -- there’s not even a smiley face!”

You were grinning. He huffed, shoulders rising. His brows furrowed and his lips went into a full pout. “Hey. Baby, this isn’t okay!”

“I didn’t realize it was just a crime,” you said.

He glanced over at you. As soon as Seungcheol saw you were grinning and realized the depth of your insincerity, he was sticking his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and withdrew his phone.

“Look,” he said, flashing you his phone screen.

He had a picture of you from your first date as your contact photo. You were smiling, brightly and unabashedly. It was almost goofy looking, how happy you looked in that picture.

Your name in his phone was just as sweet, and you wondered if you needed to schedule a dentist appointment first thing Monday morning from the cavities that were surely forming.

My Baby 💖🔥

“Aw,” you said, “that’s so cute.”

His jaw dropped. “Cute -- yes, it is cute! Meanwhile you just have my full fucking government name --” “Cheolie, sweetheart, it isn’t that serious --”

He glared at you, before shoving your phone towards you. “Change it. Right now.”

“Doesn’t that ruin --”

“Don’t make me repeat what I said,” Seungcheol warned. He stood, and your eyes immediately fell to his ass. Not in a perverted way of course, but because it was art and it would be a dishonor to not observe and appreciate art.

“I’ll be back,” he said, “and when I return you better have something so fucking cute it’ll make me cry.”

Rolling your eyes, you went about your business. You already had a cute picture of him -- one taken when he had fallen asleep behind you -- as his profile picture, so you hurriedly began typing out a name for him.

It really wasn’t a big deal to you, and you knew it really wasn’t that big of a deal to Seungcheol either. He’s seen your contact list. Everyone had their first and last names in it, save for your family members. There were no emojis, no cute names.

Truly, you thought, Seungcheol should consider himself privileged.

When he returned, he had Wolfie in his arms. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely dwarfed by his bulk and the added fluff that his oversized hoodie gave him. She was perfectly content, however, and when he sat down next to you all Wolfie did was shift in his arms to further mold into his chest.

“So?”

You smiled, holding your phone against your chest. “I don’t know, sharing the contact name of your beloved is sort of a private thing.”

He shot you a glare.

Giggling, you held out your phone for him.

🌸💘 My Seungcheol 💘🌸

“Is it appropriately cute?”

He hummed, tilting his head. “What are the flowers?”

“Your lips,” you said matter-of-factly. “Your lips remind me of pink blossoms.”

Shocked, Seungcheol flickered his eyes up to yours. His eyes, always rife with emotion, were round from the revelation. His lips -- his blossom pink lips -- parted, and like a magnet your eyes were on them.

“Those are some dangerous words, baby.”

You shrugged, settling back against the couch. “Too bad you have Wolfie on you.”

He looked down at the cat, eyes narrowed. You could practically hear him cussing her out. Then he sighed, settling one of his hands on her back. Wolfie arched into it, and in the silence you could hear her beginning to purr.

Seungcheol moved to rest against you, the two of you practically molding into one. You leaned against him, head on his shoulder, hand moving to join his in petting Wolfie. For a moment the two of you were quiet, enjoying one another, safe in the knowledge of the infatuation, adoration, yearning, the -- the love that the two of you shared, safe in the knowledge that it existed and thrived. Knowing that no matter the weight on the back, the other would be there to help brush off pebbles and destroy the rubble.

You moved your head, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. He hummed, and as you pulled back he swept down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You know,” he said, after the two of you settled back in your spots. “I saw the prettiest flower today while walking through the store. I took a picture of it because it reminded me of you.”

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