#JUST STICKING IT OUT IN THE BEDROOM WATCHING THE LIGHTING
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say you can't sleep, m | myg
... baby, I know
that's that me
– espresso by sabrina carpenter
pairing(s): yoongi x reader
summary: Snapshots of a love story centered around coffee and soft skin, heh, isn't that just so suga sweet? Mmmm, I guess so.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff they're cute as fuck; smut (fem reader, fingering + f-receiving oral at work, gasp, doggy, m-receiving oral in a bedroom, whew, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – Yoongi's POV except final scene in your POV
--
“You don’t like coffee.”
She handed him the iced Americano with an enigmatic expression.
“But I like you.”
Then she walked away.
-
“Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He looked up from his lonesome table, fully intending to tell the person to fuck off. It was too late and too dark and too restless for him to even think about socializing. He lifted his head and found himself speechless for several seconds. An enigmatic expression paired with a tight black dress. He took another sip of his whiskey to avoid making the pause awkward.
He caught a whiff of a heavy, rich, coffee-scented perfume.
Then he shrugged.
“Can’t sleep.”
She smiled.
-
“You know her?”
She sat a few tables away, wrapped in a tight black dress. A soft white knitted cardigan draped over her shoulders. Demure with a hint of sex. He recognized those black high heels with gunmetal buckles. They had been tossed carelessly by his door last night. He watched her hands dance in the air with her conversation. The man sitting in front of her seemed mildly interested. Black t-shirt, silver bracelets, faded blue jeans. She rolled her eyes and her lunch companion looked similarly annoyed, shaking his head of straight, long black hair. The waiter went by their table, carrying the handheld kiosk.
She tapped her credit card, already prepared.
The young man whipped his hands out in a what-the-fuck motion.
She shrugged.
Her black velvet purse was tucked in her lap, right above her plush thighs that had been wrapped around his neck last night.
“Better than you do,” he replied, and didn’t elaborate.
-
“I didn’t know you knew him.”
She gave him a confused look.
“Why wouldn’t I know my younger brother?”
Oh.
She handed him the iced Americano with a sly smile.
“But I’ll let him know that you were jealous.”
Fuck.
-
“You don’t have to.”
She took his hand and wrapped it around the cold drink, leaving him with a handful of condensation and consideration.
“I want to.”
She was about to let go but his other hand shot up, enclosing the back of hers. He watched her almost hide the way her breath caught. Her eyes shifted. Those parted lips were picture perfect softness that inspired wet dreams. Her skin was even more perfect up close and in the light. A tick of her eyebrow. He didn’t back down.
“Meet me in front of the café at seven tonight.”
She didn’t hesitate.
“Okay.”
-
Date after date, she wore the same perfume and the same enigmatic smile. Night after night, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Day after day, he looked forward to her occasional treat in the form of ice coffee. He admired her audacity to let everyone talk. Both of them deflected the topic when anyone asked. No sense in entertaining unsolicited opinions.
In bed, he closed his eyes and breathed in, remembering the way her soft skin smelled against him.
He was addicted to her perfume.
Then again, he already had a coffee problem so maybe it was all in his head.
-
From across the room, she smiled at him.
He acknowledged her with a nod, sticking his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t shake.
The eye contact lingered for a moment linger before she turned and walked out the door.
After about ten minutes, he made up some excuse and left too.
-
He kissed the inside of her thigh and looked up.
Her knuckle was against her teeth, biting down lightly, calmly giving him an expression of apprehension and boldness. He cocked his head. She shrugged with one shoulder. He bunched her skirt around her waist.
And stared into her eyes as he licked upwards.
Hot, heavy, and with possessiveness.
She melted against the wall. Lashes fluttering, shivering under him, no sound. Probably because of where they were. The mischief in her eyes glimmered. Her perfect lips formed words both silent and damning.
Keep going.
To be perfectly clear he did not give a fuck about rules, but also he liked his job and didn’t want to get himself fired. Yet. He skimmed his lips over her soft skin and figured that at least it would be a cool story, letting his fingers sink into her shapely hips, toying with the hem of her panties with his thumbs. Her free hand wandered down to hold up her skirt. Helpful. He closed his eyes. Tongue, lips, teeth travelling up in a zig-zag from thigh to thigh. Her coffee-scented perfume faded as the scent of sweet sex prevailed, his index finger skimming over the heat, following the forbidden line.
Absolute silence.
But beneath his lips, her body was singing. Vibrating with pleasure. Pressing her shoulder blades against the wall, rolling her hips towards him. He opened his eyes to see hers under lidded lashes. Slid his finger under, down, the back of his nail drenched, and he pulled it aside, watching her sensual mouth form his name.
He closed his lips around the top and sank two fingers into her pussy.
Fuck, she tasted so good.
The shudder took over him before he could stop it. Delightful shivers as he watched her watch him when he cupped his tongue around her clit. Circling it gently. Coaxing. Slow and steady, admiring the way her slick walls closed in around his fingers. Thrusting deeper. He spread his knees more, wincing as he felt his hardening erection strain against even his loose jeans. She kept her hips still, melting into his momentum, looking hot as hell fully dressed with his mouth as her new accessory. He spied the curl of her pink tongue against the side of her lips. His fingers involuntarily twitched, digging his blunt nails into her thigh. Tongue against nerves. The steady climb to the heavenly high. Quiet breathing becoming labored, his cock aching at the image and taste of sweet evidence.
Her arousal dripping down his throat.
She came to his tongue, pressing the crown of her head against the wall and silently gasping to the ceiling.
No one found out.
At least, Human Resources didn’t let him know they did.
-
He spent a little more time checking out his outfit before leaving his apartment. Bomber jacket, loose shirt, slightly less torn jeans, and his nicest bag, a black leather messenger. Debated on a beanie. Decided against it and took a moment to tie his hair back into a low ponytail. The front pieces were too short to be tied back. He adjusted them in the mirror and out the door he went. Subway and then a short walk. He visited the usual spot, a café by the office, and she was already in line. The cashier seemed to have taken a liking to her, trying to keep her for a few lines of conversation. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care, courteously stepping out of line after she paid and waiting to the side for her order.
He contemplated walking up to her.
This was the first time he had been this early. He was not and never would be a morning person. A lot of the time he had to settle for the shitty coffee from the machine in the break room. He preferred an expert’s hand though, so he did his best to drag himself out of bed to get in line. Big chains had apps to order-and-go, but this was a mom-and-pop store that didn’t have the money for such technology. Honestly, now he was glad about that. A rare occurrence of the universe being on his side.
His gaze must have remained for too long because she looked up from her phone and her head turned, spotting him immediately.
He let his eyes linger when hers did.
A glimmer in her eye. Must be the morning sun. She raised her hand and beckoned him to her.
He stepped out of line and walked up to her.
“I can buy my own coffee, you know.”
The café smelled like stale morning coffee and yet somehow she smelled even better.
“Just let me do this one thing for you, hm?” she smiled.
He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he stood next to her and stuck his hands in his pockets. He noticed several people looking her way but they all quickly reoriented their wandering eyes. It had to have something to do with the way her long black skirt clung to her hips or her courage of wearing a maroon faux fur cropped jacket out in public. Or maybe it was the way her tight black turtleneck clung to her chest.
“You can go on ahead. I’ll drop off the drink for you.”
He half-considered it. Maybe even take a moment to make it obvious for everyone.
Still, he didn’t want to leave.
“I’m still waking up,” he offered as his reply.
They weren’t looking at each other but he was highly aware of her presence next to him. He didn’t sense any discomfort. The café was getting packed. She scooted closer to him as a couple more people moved into the waiting section.
The barista called out her name.
She glided up to the counter. He watched her go, pit-a-pat beating in his chest. Admired every line, the way her hips swayed, the way stray rays of the sunrise made her hair glow. Watched her turn around in slow-motion mental cinema, raising her head, their eyes connecting, the corner of her lips rising when she saw him waiting for her.
She held out the iced Americano.
“Careful, someone might think we’re an item.”
He reached out and let his fingers graze her wrist.
“I think someone already does.”
He was talking about himself but he didn’t miss the pleasure in her eyes when the exchange happened.
-
She was a menace every time.
“I’m going to make sure you’ll need caffeine tomorrow,” she mused out loud.
He raised an eyebrow.
“And how are you going to do that?”
He somewhat regretted asking that.
-
The room was pitch black.
“You still up?”
The presence beside him shifted, facing him, but he wouldn’t be able to see even if he opened his eyes. He didn’t need to though. He knew the way the blanket draped over her arm, exposing the corner of her shoulder, her hair cascading over her neck covered in his invisible kisses and light bites. Her arm over her breasts as she adjusted her hand just under the pillow. The blanket dipped a bit further down the bed, then rose up sharply at her hips.
“Sorry if I seem restless,” she whispered. “I have insomnia sometimes.”
He had offered before, but she hadn’t accepted until tonight. He wasn’t sure what had made her change her mind.
“Me too,” he confessed. “I take a long time to fall asleep.”
Her voice was feathery and soft. Not pitched to act younger or be more appealing. True to who she was and where she was in her life. Her coffee-scented perfume reflected that as well. Dark and smokey and acidic. Full-bodied in every sense of the word. He heard amusement in her soothing voice as she spoke.
“That’s a very polite way of admitting that you’re nervous of the pretty girl in your bed being a closeted psychopath and smothering you in your sleep before taking all of your valuables and skipping town.”
He smiled.
“Don’t worry, I know all pretty girls are psychopaths.”
She laughed. “Won’t fall for my tricks then, hm?”
“I might if you actually tried some of yours on me.”
There was a pause in her breathing. A single flutter of butterfly wings, so slight he almost thought he imagined it.
“You think so?”
He kept telling himself he wouldn’t, but deep down he knew he would.
“Yeah,” he murmured, noncommittal.
There was a pungent silence.
Then he felt her warmth closer. Closer. Warm exhale tickling his shoulder. Her hand settled on his arm. A whirlwind of thoughts. He had always thought, oh, it would be annoying. It would be heedlessly complicated. It would die out quick. And, ultimately, it would be fleeting and unfulfilling.
Like a shooting star during a meteor shower.
“You’re something else, Min Yoongi.”
Meaningless was it was, he found himself making a wish as the weight of sleep swept him away.
-
Of course, he was scared.
Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it or show it. People were fickle, complicated creatures that spent lifetimes trying to explain themselves to no avail. He was one of them. He had long ago accepted that he was part of the problem. Likewise, he accepted that he would never understand. He wasn’t about to encroach on the millennia of human philosophy and twist his brain trying to make sense of it all.
“I should leave.”
Best he could do was write some songs about it.
“Sit,” he commanded in his most inviting tone.
Better not to think about it too much.
He looked away from the stove for a moment to see the unsure shift of her eyes and the hesitation of her parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” She lifted her gaze.
He held it, but only for a second.
Any longer would have been too telling.
He turned back to the pan and replied with, “You cannot possibly think I’m that rude to kick you out before breakfast. Sit.”
Thinking about it too much would ruin it, anyway. It would make it less true. Convoluted. Muddled by past experiences and endless doubts. He refused to let that happen. He lifted the frying pan, tipping the fried egg onto the freshly made white rice. Set the pan down. Turned around with the bowl in hand, setting it on the counter in front of the barstool next to a small plate of his mother’s kimchi. He saw her hesitate once more. Maybe it was his imagination, or was that a flush of pink at the tops of her cheeks? He pulled out a drawer and added a pair of chopsticks by the bowl. Didn’t take his eyes off her movements.
She reached out and pulled out the barstool, sliding onto the brown leather.
Bowed her head to hide her smile.
“Thanks for the food.”
Yoongi silently let out the breath he had been holding.
-
Just before she walked out his door, she leaned in and kissed him.
She drew back.
“See you.”
He stepped forward and pulled her into a longer kiss.
“See you,” he breathed, missing her already.
-
He couldn’t look at he when she smiled.
Even as the corner of his mouth lifted and his teeth sank into the side of his lower lip.
Dark, smokey, acidic.
Her perfume was so familiar now. It settled into his palette, embellishing the dreamlike image. His hands rested on her waist, fingertips drumming against soft skin. Her fingers danced up his sternum and her lips hovered by his. Breath to breath. Her other palm on his chest. Hips to hips. The moment lingered. Almost to the point of discomfort, and then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
He wondered if he tasted like coffee.
The kiss melted into him. Warmth rushed all over his body. He should be used to it and yet he fell back under her spell. Under her kisses over his face and neck, under her insistent touch. He dug his nails into her back. She matched him, but harder, rougher, her tongue slipping into his moaning mouth as she scratched him up. Perhaps it was a perverted satisfaction but he rather enjoyed knowing that his pale skin would be marred in pink lines of passion. He didn’t want to be precious about it.
She straddled him and pressed her panties into his erection.
He griped her waist and kissed her harder.
-
He enjoyed it when she slipped her arm in his as they walked side by side. He enjoyed watching passerby glance at them with envy, especially when her head leaned against his shoulder. He enjoyed it when she tugged him to her and caught his lips possessively. He didn’t know when he stopped hiding the smile he had when around her. He didn’t know when he stopped wanting to be alone in his free time and instead wanted to fill it with her coffee-scented perfume. He used to work late all the time because there was nothing better to do, but lately there was a better reason to ditch his responsibilities.
It was careless but such was life.
Heh.
He loved to watch her face, and yet there was something about watching her back arch and her fingers curl into the sheets. Something about his hands gripping her hips and driving himself deeper. Something about the image of her ass and thighs bouncing with each forceful smack of body-to-body contact. Just something about it. Tight, wet, hot, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, dragging his nails down her spine, feeling her match his pace. He enjoyed fucking as much as the next guy. This was simply different.
Something about her, maybe.
She threw her head back, her visceral sounds music to his ears, pleasure incarnate, and he could feel each wave threaten to drag him under, into the permanent honeymoon haze. He let it take him, gasping, surrendering, wanting it again already. She moaned with him, clutching his pillows into a jumbled mess.
Fuck, so good.
One shared look.
To be honest, he was proud of the number of used condoms that piled up.
-
“A candle?”
She lifted the heavy glass lid and inhaled. Her eyes widened, sparkling with recognition and delight.
He stated the obvious. “It’s coffee-scented.”
“I love the scent of coffee,” she murmured. He already knew that. “You remember.”
He half-smiled. “Isn’t that your excuse for always getting me one? You like the scent but you don’t drink it?” He couldn’t help but tease.
She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Trying to throw me off your scent? It won’t work.”
He sure as fuck hoped it didn’t. “I’m trying to convince you to stop buying those expensive iced Americanos for me. I’m trying to cut down for my health.”
She frowned. But he shook his head, trying to dissipate any misunderstanding.
“Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t come up with the idea. My doctor did.”
Her gaze narrowed, unconvinced.
He shoved his hands back into his pockets so they would stop shaking. There was no bag or awkward gift wrapping for him to hold on to. It wasn’t his style, but he somewhat regretted it now. He tiled his head, relaxing his face despite the thunder within his ribcage.
“What?”
She replaced the lid of the candle. Her thumb ran across the embossed characters on the paper label. Capitalism had burned a hole in his wallet. He didn’t mind though. She held it close to her chest.
“This is an expensive brand. I’ve seen it at higher end stores.”
He was delighted that she knew. The cheaper brands had smelled far too fake and far too sweet. He wanted that rich bitterness. Dark and smokey and acidic. A scent that reminded him of them. She watched him carefully. He shrugged.
“You get what you pay for.” Chuckled, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Fair, once I considered the culmination of the price of all those coffees. And, anyway, I only wanted you to know that you don’t have to pay a price for my attention. You’ve had it all this time.”
Her eyes widened a bit.
He shifted his weight, about to walk past.
At the last second, he turned his head, pausing to whisper in her ear.
“But don’t think about buying anyone else a coffee, alright?”
Before he could make his escape, her eyes were already locked onto his, her lips centimeters from his.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Min Yoongi.”
-
“What?”
She grinned. Their hands interlocked. Holding tight, even though his back was flat against her bed. Her body hovered over his. She lowered, slowly. He sucked in a breath as he felt her hard nipples brush against his chest.
“You like that?” she teased.
He stared into her eyes, melting into her mischief. “Yeah.”
She pressed her soft breasts flush against him, rubbing back and forth. He closed his eyes, shuddering, her name in his throat. His other hand migrated to her waist and he squeezed her, wanting her to know his desire. Her coffee-scented perfume stuck to his skin, bitter and sweet and addictive, a guilty pleasure he didn’t feel guilty about.
His doctor had advised him to cut back on coffee and alcohol, his other guilty pleasures, so naturally he found himself tangled up in another.
Heh.
His fingers slid up, up, tangling in her hair, pulling her face to his. There was a split second where their eye lines connected under their lashes, and he froze up. She stared back. Centimeters of trembling air between their lips. His entire body could barely contain the want and yet. It wasn’t the first time they had been this close. Far from it.
But this was the first time Yoongi realized he would move heaven and earth for those eyes.
He squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back and closed the distance between them, her eyelids falling. His too, and he realized there was sex and then there was this. This, the goosebumps that erupted over his skin when her fingertips glided down his arm. This, the chain of kisses leaving him in a daze. This, the delicate shock of her lips travelling down his chest. This, the pit-a-pat and pang of something so dirty being so pure. Her mouth enveloped him and coated his cock with a thin layer of velvety saliva. Back and forth, so soft, just right, building a lovely desperation that he savored. Tighter, and he gasped, marveling at the suffocating gentleness that made him painfully hard. Pace so steady it was nearly maddening, his fingers twisting in the sheets, and he sucked in another breath, the air saturated with her scent, hitting the apex and at the same time falling so fully that he couldn’t hide it anymore.
She kept him hard, knowing the precise amount of softness and insistence. He didn’t need to say anything. She thought about him the same way he thought about her. Her hands fanned over his hips, extending the pleasure of orgasm. His exhale a shudder. Their eyes connected again.
He beckoned her back up, breathlessly.
She obeyed. Skin to skin. His fingertips touched her chin, conducting her movement.
He could taste himself in their kiss.
“You like that?” he whispered to her lips.
She smiled against his. “Yeah.”
One torn-open condom wrapper later, and there was nothing better than her legs wrapping around his waist once he was completely inside. Shivering breath, his fingertips grazing over her collarbones, and he was well aware of his own black hair tangled over his eyes. She looked up at with admiration and satisfaction, tightening around him.
“You should come over to mine tomorrow night. Spend the weekend with me,” he found himself saying.
Her expression amused. “Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your landlord.”
He pushed his hair back, cleaning his vision.
“Let that be my problem.”
Her eyes sparkled.
“I’ll think about it.”
Seemed like she already had though.
Slow and tense, leaning down. Deeper. Her legs sliding up, tighter. Each breath drawn in hotter, keeping their electric eye contact, and he lifted one of his hands to wrap around her wrist. She watched him, intrigued. He thrust downwards and she squeezed him all around, meeting his pace, their eyes closing, succumbing to the honeymoon haze in harmony, their wanton sounds melding together like sugar into coffee. Harder. Rougher. Her name falling from his lips and his from hers. His grip on her wrist slipped.
Their fingers interlocked.
He kept the high coming, over and over.
-
The room was pitch black.
“Can’t sleep?”
He stretched his arm over his head. His body was still running hot.
“Don’t want to.”
She hummed. “Why’s that?”
He should sleep but that would tear him out of this dream. “Pretty girl giving me insomnia.”
“Damn. Wish I could help,” she chuckled, curling up against his side.
He hadn’t known it when she walked into his life, light glimmering off her hair and adorned with a sweet smile. Day by day, catching himself watching her walk past. He admired the confident way she held herself, the assuredness in her stride, the sharpness of her wit. Then one day, the morning after a particularly restless night, she had walked right up to him, an iced Americano in hand. She had known his preference. Could have been observation or asking around. Or both. Didn’t matter, as it was clear she took the time and noticed his lingering gaze.
“Why me?”
Her soft cheek against his shoulder.
“You know why.”
He did but he still wanted to make sure. “You weren’t scared?”
She took a moment to recall. “Worst thing you can say is no. You didn’t.”
He turned his head. She scooted up, and now they were looking at each other in the darkness. He couldn’t see shit, but he had already memorized her face in moments, in snapshots of closeness, into dreams he couldn’t help but believe in. She brought her face closer and their lips found each other with him meeting her halfway.
He pulled her closer.
Yoongi had always believed, oh, love would be annoying. Love would be heedlessly complicated. Love would die out quick and, ultimately, be fleeting and unfulfilling, like a shooting star during a meteor shower. And maybe it was all that.
But he could also be wrong.
Kiss after kiss, falling stars in the darkness, and he couldn’t help but believe in wishes.
Maybe he was just too far gone. Too under her spell to be logical anymore. Her leg slid over his hip, their bodies seamlessly against each other and her hand cradled his face, breathing in his air. Her perfume still lingered, dark and smokey and reminding him of how this love started, or perhaps it had rubbed off onto his skin in their passion. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it.
“Don’t think about anyone else, alright?” she whispered.
His hand settled around her waist.
His lips touched her nose. Lightly, endearingly. Didn’t she know? She must. Maybe she wanted to hear it from his lips. He didn’t know the romantic thing to say. He was terrible at that. Always was, always would be. Then again, she had already given him the answer.
He smiled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”
-
“Iced Americano. The largest size, please.”
The barista smiled sheepishly. “Busy day?”
You tilted your head, a stray strand of hair curling around your curved lips.
“My darling needs it.”
--
masterpost
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Hi, im a scrawny guy studing arts in college, can you make me a hulking lebanese stud with a more interesting life?
I most certainly can! 😏
You’ve just gotten home from a long and slightly boring day at college. I assume you enjoy studying arts but it can drag on at times and that leads to a lot clock watching. And you can’t help feeling the same about your life in general. That it’s just not interesting enough for you. Well that’s where I come in.
You’re sprawled out across your bed and scrolling your phone as you usually would when first arriving home. Only this time I’d be watching you silently. Invisible of course as I peered into your mind and search through it until I found what you desired most. My face twisting into a grin as I point a finger towards you and beam my magic directly into you so it may begin it’s work.
It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck you. A huge flood of energy surging through your entire being. Flowing up and down in rapid succession. You would sit up in confusion while looking down at yourself. You wouldn’t be able to put the strange sensation into words. However your train of thought would be completely smashed when that feeling began concentrating on your chest.
It happened almost instantly. Like an explosion inside your body. Your shirt immediately ripping down the middle as your chest heaved forwards with an unprecedented amount of muscle, forming two huge solid pecs. You could hardly believe your eyes. Never having imagined you’d be able to look down at yourself and see actual pecs! They really were huge! Though before you could even really comprehend what’d just happened, your arms and shoulders ballooned just as swiftly, making sure to destroy whatever was left of your shirt. Going from scrawny noodle arms to enormous bulging biceps and triceps that teemed with strength matched up with a set of cannon ball like shoulders. Even your hands grew bigger and meatier as a result. Yet still no time was wasted as your back proceeded to bulge and widen to compensate for the rest of your upper body.
You got about 20 seconds or so the breath and flex your new muscles curiously before the transformation continued. Unfortunately not even your pants were safe as your skinny stick legs exploded with instant muscle. Blowing your pants apart completely as your grew into massive meaty trunks of power. Gigantic thighs that a scrawny dude like his former self would’ve done anything to have his face smothered between as well as bulky calves that looked the size of footballs. Even your feet grew several sizes to be able to carry all that new size. But even that wasn’t enough as you let out a small grown while your ass ballooned into a perfectly bubbly muscle ass.
Amidst the chaos your body had certainly grown taller as well, but that wasn’t what concerned you. Rather it was the pinching pain in your face as your features began changing. Hair changing colour as your jaw widened. Eyes turning to that of a piercing teal while perfect scruff decorated your face and your lips proceeded to plump up slightly. Your entire heritage and DNA being reworked to become that of a hulking Lebanese stud.
The world around you was starting to blur as you began to feel somewhat light headed. But before you could pass out, there was one final change that had to happened. Suddenly your balls fattened without warning. But what really made you groan was the feeling of your once average cock engorging with newfound length and girth until it reached an almost monstrous size. Bucking and pulsing excitedly as it grew. And the last thing you could remember before passing your was blowing an enormous load all over your chest and stomach before everything faded…
When you awoke however you weren’t in your bedroom at all. Rather you were sat on a lawn chair by a pool you didn’t recognise. You blinked your eyes a little while looking around only to become startled as you looked down at yourself. Your body. You were fucking huge! You couldn’t believe your eyes your rational brain told you that it must’ve all been a dream and yet… it wasn’t. As you flexed your biceps and groped your pecs, all it confirmed was just how real it all felt. Even down to the fat anaconda you called a cock that was stealthily hidden in the large yet still tight shorts you didn’t remember owning. You didn’t know whether to feel afraid, ecstatic or just plain horny.
That when they hit you. The memories of your new life. All of it striking you at once. You were now a famous Lebanese model and actor that was huge on social media with millions of followers across different platforms. You frequently got to travel the world for rolls and fans you met would frequently express how much they looked up to you, adored you or even how much they wanted to be you. And how could you blame them? You were dashing manly hunk in every sense of the phrase. A walking embodiment of testosterone even. And better yet you were of course still openly gay and always helped to support the LGBT community with your extraordinary reach and influence. And as a side effect, other gay dudes practically threw themselves at you left and right.
And now you were sat by the pool at a 5 star Spa Hotel! One of the many you got to stay at while shooting for a new movie. So just sit back, relax and let that hulking body of yours absorb some rays from the sun. Enjoy your new life and status. Though I have a feeling you’d be far too excited by your new body to sit still for long. No doubt you’ll be heading back to your Hotel room soon enough so you can peel off those tight shirts and get a good long look at the new you. Exploring every last inch of muscle until you’ve bust so many loads you can hardly stand.
I can only hope I’ve fulfilled your wish in granting you a more interesting life.
#asks#male transformation#male muscle growth#musclegrowth#muscle worship#male tf#permanent#magic#jock#mr wavell#cock growth#ass growth#racial change#race change
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Hot for Teacher(s) 9
Part 8 / AO3 Link
Eddie felt like he blacked out. One moment he was on stage, playing his heart out, the next, Steve was leading him by the hand back to his car. Eddie had come to the venue with one of his bandmates, instruments in the back. When they got to Steve’s car, the keys were put in his hand.
“Your place”, Steve said, going around to the passenger side.
Eddie nodded hurriedly and in a rush of movements, they were off. He worried for a split second about the state of his apartment but those thoughts were pushed out when he felt Steve’s hand on his thigh. In the close space of the car, Eddie could smell him so deeply. He took a deep breath.
“You looked great up there”, Steve said. “Have you been playing long?”
“Since I was a kid”, Eddie answered, wishing with all his might that they could get a red light just so he could look at Steve at least once. It had been only a few minutes but even that was too long. “My mom put a guitar in my hand and it was like…nothing was ever the same.”
“A natural.” Steve started to stroke his thigh.
They came to an apartment complex and Eddie led the way up to the third floor. They got to his place and he paused as he unlocked the door. He turned to Steve with a sheepish expression.
“Gimme just one minute.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Eddie, I live with a child. A little untidiness isn’t going to turn me off.”
“I’d rather not welcome comparisons to a kid”, Eddie said.
“Fair enough. Go on, go and spruce it up before I see.”
Eddie thanked him and then went inside. Steve could hear movement from behind the door and after about a minute, Eddie opened it again. Steve took everything in and looked around. It had the makings of the usual bachelor pad, everything here was clearly Eddie’s. All meant for a single alpha. He smiled when he saw the teacher manuals, bookmarks sticking out from the lesson he’d left off at.
Part of him wanted to explore some more, see all the little pieces of Eddie that could be found. But then there was a warmth against his back and a nose at his neck. Eddie’s arms snaked around his waist.
“I’d love to give you the grand tour. Starting with the bedroom~”
“I bet you say that to all the groupies.”
“You’re the only one hot enough to make it this far”, Eddie said, turning Steve in his arms. “And you didn’t even have to throw me your panties.”
“Hmm, sounds to me like you don’t even want them tossed to you”, Steve teased. “And after all the trouble I went through…”
“‘Trouble’?”, Eddie perked at that.
“Lead the way.”
Eddie released Steve, holding his hand only to take him to his bedroom. Steve closed the door behind them and then pushed Eddie onto the bed. Eddie leaned back on his elbows to watch Steve make a show of removing his jacket and shirt. Then he unbuttoned his pants and Eddie saw a sneak peek of what was to come. Steve licked his lips as he watched the alpha’s eyes darken and the scent of arousal began to fill the room.
Steve took off everything else, leaving only the black thong. The darkness of the fabric meant that Eddie couldn’t see the wet patch between his legs. But the way his nostrils flared, he could probably smell it. Steve walked closer and Eddie sat up, his hands moving reverently like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch.
Taking the initiative, Steve brought Eddie’s hands to his hips. Eddie licked his lips as his eyes traveled up and down the other man’s body, lingering on what must be a sopping wet cunt. He swallowed thickly.
“When was the last time someone ate you out baby?”
“Well-”, Steve was saved from answering by Eddie diving face first, mouthing at his crotch like a man starved. His knees buckled and one hand went to Eddie’s shoulder while the other went to the back of his head, cradling it there.
Eddie had been able to smell his wetness. Now he could actually feel and taste it. And it was so. Fucking. Good. He lifted one of Steve’s legs over his shoulders to spread him even more, still licking the fabric and sucking him through it. Eddie felt the leg by his ear tremble and he looked up. The purr that left his body, seeing Steve enraptured because of him, it must’ve traveled from his throat to his lips because Steve let out a purr of his own.
Steve felt Eddie pulled off and nearly let out a whine when he found himself on the bed. His legs must’ve been weaker than he’d thought if he was able to be moved like that. Eddie kissed him sweetly and then kissed down his neck, to his chest.
“How the hell do you still have so many clothes?”, Steve breathed out.
“Natural talent”, Eddie winked. But he was beginning to overheat, so he paused to started undressing himself. He moved just a tad slower when he realized Steve’s hand was between his legs, stroking himself.
“Careful Mr. Harrington. I might need to start charging you for the show.”
Steve snickered. “Please do not call me ‘Mr. Harrington’. Makes me think of my students.”
“Alright”, Eddie stripped off the last bit of clothing. “How’s about baby?” He kissed Steve’s ankle. “Or sweetheart?” He kissed his calf. “Angel face?” He gave one of Steve’s thighs a soft bite.
“Yes.”
Eddie peeled off the thong, duty completed and watched a string of slick try to stay attached. It was soaked from them both and Eddie was fighting the urge to stuff his face in it and he wondered how attached Steve was to this particular piece of underwear.
“I can tell you wanna lick it”, Steve said. “But wouldn’t you rather have the real thing?” He used his fingers to spread himself and a thick drop of pre cum dripped from Eddie’s cock.
Permission given, Eddie dove in, his hips rutting against the bed as he ate Steve out. It was so soft and warm, he felt like he could get lost in it. All Steve saw was a mop of dark curls between his legs but he could feel everything Eddie was doing and it made him see stars. He felt something else prod him and when he looked down, Eddie was gazing up at him, asking with his eyes while his lips were wrapped around his clit.
Steve nodded and then he felt a finger push inside. Eddie treated him gentle, which Steve appreciated. He’d done his best to prep for the night, knowing what he wanted. But the fact that Eddie was taking his time, was enjoying the scenic route. Whenever his mouth left his pussy it was to lick his thighs, to kiss his hips, even to nuzzle his bush like every part of him was worth savoring.
During all this, he spread Steve open, bringing him to the brink before pulling back. Steve wanted to be frustrated but he liked going the long way. No rush, no fuss. He was more than happy to cum on Eddie’s cock. If it was like this now…he could only imagine during a heat or a rut.
Steve was lost in the thought as Eddie pulled his fingers out and reached for a condom. Steve sat up a little and held a hand out.
“Let me.”
When Eddie handed it to him, Steve took his time too. He got up on his knees and scented Eddie’s neck. That aroma was no longer just safety when he was on the brink of rejection sickness. It was a deep fondness, a strong attraction, and the utmost trust. Steve licked his throat and collarbone while looking down and placing the condom onto him. Even just the feather light touches were almost too much for him and he sucked in a breath.
“You don’t know what you do to me, sweetness”, he said as he laid kisses on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve used his fingertip to play with Eddie’s tip. “I think I have an idea.”
Eddie pushed him back down and lined himself up. He waited for Steve’s nod and then began to push inside. Steve waited until he was fully inside and then wrapped both his arms and legs around him.
“Feels so good, you’re so deep, fuck.”
Eddie growled in his ear as he started to move. Steve smelled so delicious. Eddie’s nose was pressed into his neck, fighting the urge to bite, to claim him, to make Steve his own. Steve wasn’t helping things by actually baring it to him, back arching as they pushed and pulled into each other. Everything about Steve was telling him to do it, to seal the deal.
Everything but Steve’s own words.
So Eddie stayed his teeth. But he was going to make sure that before the night was through that Steve would be carrying his scent home with him.
Steve was no nun, there had been partners after Billy, here and there, and of course, he had his own heats to deal with. But nothing could have prepared him for the way his orgasm crashed over him when Eddie thrusted just right. He scratched down his back (he’d apologize later) as his cunt squeezed down, trying to take his knot and milk it for everything.
He was still riding the wave when he felt that knot finally come inside and Eddie bit down on his shoulder as he came. For a few moments, all they did was breathe together. Eddie brushed the sweaty hairs away from Steve’s forehead and kissed it. Words lingered on his lips. Words that felt too heavy to say. So for now, he would let his body do the talking.
There was a split second where Eddie thought of everything the words might entail - changing his address, being a sudden parent to a six year old and all that it required, Steve learning about him and vice versa. It all sounded too good to be true. Definitely not the kind of pillow talk after having sex for the first time. So all he said was:
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pop it in like that”, he said, moving them to their sides.
“It’s fine. Not like I’m going anywhere soon. Hope you weren’t expecting to kick me outta bed.”
“Honey, it’s all yours. I’ll give you the deed and everything.”
“Actually, did you know that until the 50’s there was something called ‘common scent law’ that-no wait, nevermind”, Steve covered his face with his hand.
Eddie knew that look. The ‘I had to learn something to teach my students and now I have an abundance of knowledge on this obscure subject’. He pushed a lock of Steve’s hair behind his ear and then kissed the hand that was hiding his face.
“We’re gonna be here a while, sweetness. Go ahead and tell me about now defunct laws.”
The way Steve melted, Eddie wished he could bottle it up and keep it forever.
Part 10 coming soon
Tags
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog
@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre
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“ROI—“
more bff!mark for my baby girls out there, i am watching and lurking when you least expect. the title is based on a song! it is the instrumental for roi. i do not have a specific reason, i just heard it while i was writing and hadn’t a title ready. i saw the phrase “sandbox love never dies” on another work, credit is due there for that!
cw: mdni!, dubcon-ish(? not sure how to describe, haha), smut, mark is pining hard for reader, possibly hint of yandere, this one is kind of long, bff!mark, piv, childhood friends to lovers trope, mark is a little delulu if u squint, virgin!mark (implied), semi-dark content please be aware, reader and mark are in college, reader knows that mark is invincible but that isn’t really important to the story.
mark knew this bedroom all too well. how couldn’t he? you both basically grew up in there together. you were always over at his house, he was always over at yours. inseparable ever since the day he had moved in across from you, sandbox love never dies.
his eyes landed on the fairy lights that were stapled to the wall to keep them in place… he had done that, years ago. he couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment on your face when you realised that they hadn’t come with a sticky back so you could have them up on your wall. he still remembered the way your eyes lit up when he returned to your home with a stapler in hand, being careful not to staple through the wire. mark’s heart fluttered when he saw your little collection of cereal box figurines; also his doing. he couldn’t believe that you had held onto his gifts for so long, let alone display them proudly as if they were medals. to you, they might as well as be.
“you okay?” you asked, snapping him out of whatever dreamy trance he was in. he snapped his head around back to the tv, the ending credits of the zombie movie rolling on the screen. you had noticed how he had been staring into space for the last half hour of your movie, “me? yeah- i’m good, just thinking about something.” he smiled, quickly rummaging around on the floor to pick up the last of the movie cases, your marathon nearing its end. you were both back in town for the weekend, college kicking you both down and your dorm rooms not homey enough for it to feel right, so you had decided to drop in for a couple of days, killing two birds with one stone and seeing both mark’s parents and yours in one trip. your parents would be coming back later, that’s when the barbecue would come out.
mark switched the disk for the unwatched one, the movie menu popping up shortly after with a blood splatter animation on the title screen, “no don’t play it yet! we gotta refill here.” you spoke, pointing down at the almost empty bowl of chips, save for a few crumbs at the bottom. you had even ran out of cookies, remembering how mark had said that they should stop calling them family size if they were only able to feed two people in the span of an hour or two. you retorted with something about how usually people had self control; you weren’t supposed to scoff down three packs of family value cookies. ever.
“you gonna leave me here, all on my own? out in the open like this? i’m a sitting duck out here.” he joked, a satisfied warmth washing over him as soon as you had laughed. he loved your laugh, always. for as long as he could remember, “like anyone would come attack my house while you’re here, mark.” you rolled your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. he knew how much you relied on him to keep you safe sometimes. already knew that you’d know who to call if you were ever in any danger. he fed on it. you picked up the empty bowls, stacking them inside one another and opening your bedroom door.
“d’you want anything from downstairs?” you asked, holding an empty bottle of pop under your arm, hands preoccupied. mark shook his head, getting up to open your door wider for you, “i think i’ll just stick to eating all of this junk you keep throwing at me.” mark smiled, you smiled. mark’s heart ached.
“don’t you dare press play on that movie, mark grayson!” you yelled from downstairs, just missing the way mark’s cheeks dusted pink at the sound of his name on your tongue. you sounded like an angel. mark’s attention turned to your dresser, the top drawer full of your underwear. how did he know? well, he was the reason for your declining pairs of underwear, the source of the disappearing panties act that you had just brushed off as being forgetful or losing them somehow. he got up, face turning beet red as he stepped towards the drawer, fingers shakily reaching for the handle, slowly, slowly-
“are you going through my stuff?” shit. shit.
you had caught him, after all this time you had caught him. his mind raced for an excuse, his heart threatened to give up on him and he hoped that he would just have a heart attack already, quickly, he had to say something. anything, anything- “i’m kidding! if you’re looking for the remote, you already left it on the bed, silly!”
thank god. thank god.
“right, y-yeah! ha, i must’ve- forgotten..” he laughed nervously, heart still racing in his chest. all he could do was try to steady himself, calm his shaking hands and retreat back to his original seat, on your bed, next to you. he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, couldn’t stop thinking about how he could’ve had you right there if you had actually caught him, couldn’t stop thinking about holding your hands above your head and covering your mouth with his palm, ‘please let me, you don’t understand- just the tip and i’ll be done i swear.. just let me make you take me.’— he was daydreaming again, it was all your fault. he wanted you so badly, so desperately, why couldn’t you see it? why couldn’t you see him?
mark stared blankly at the tv screen with his jaw clenched, looking right through the screen. if he hadn’t had seen this movie dozens of times before with william, he would’ve been missing it. it was as if he was sleeping while sitting up with his eyes open, idle and dormant…
he heard you scream, his body shifting to shield you on instinct, breaking him out of whatever trance he had put himself in. you had thrown your arms over him, eyes squeezed shut. he was ready to fight, but fizzled down when he realised that you had only jumped into his arms for safety because of a jumpscare. a jumpscare. you were pressed up against him, you had almost jumped into his lap. it was like you were doing it on purpose, torturing him just because you could. you clung to him tighter, eyes glued to the screen in fear and anticipation for the next bloody scene…
fuck. he could feel his cock twitching in his jeans, straining against his boxers. leaking, weeping for you, his best friend. he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into his mouth with his teeth so hard that he thought he would make himself bleed- bleed for you-because you were clinging onto him like you needed him. he needed you. he couldn’t help it anymore. it was now or never, here or nowhere.
“m’sorry-“ he said quietly and you turned to him, eyes staring up into his. that sent him over the edge. before you could ask him what he was apologising for, you were on your back, mark leaning over your body, a hungriness in his deep brown orbs. you had forgotten how fast he was, his powers completely slipping your mind. that was just it, you never cared. you always stuck with him, even after he had told you about his father’s secret roots all those years ago after he had just found out. he couldn’t wait to tell you, he always knew that you’d still see him the same, believe his words even if he lied-
“y/n, please- just let me talk, please just hear me out..!” he sounded different, shaky, almost scared to speak to you as if you were the one with superpowers holding him down. you weren’t scared, of course you weren’t. you looked into his eyes, concern washing over you as you watched your best friend open and close his mouth again, trying to find his words, “i.. i don’t- look, i…” more silence followed, tears brimmed in the corners of mark’s eyes and landed on your face, his gaze refusing to meet yours once again. you wanted to wipe his eyes, get to the bottom of why he was so upset… oh. oh. that was it, huh?
“mark-“ you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows to get closer to his face, closer so you could wipe his eyes-
mark panicked, he wasn’t ready for your rejection. wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you had a boyfriend or that you couldn’t, didn’t want to hear you tell him that he was just like a brother to you, you couldn’t like him back because you were only best friends. he leaned forward, hands on your cheeks, lips crashing against your own. “mmf-!” you tried to move, his grip only tightening the more you tried to pull away, your hands on his wrists tightly. so this was how it was going to have to go, right? he’d dreamed of this for so long, it was so perfect. you were perfect.
“mark-!” you finally yelled, pushing him away by his shoulders. he could feel a dark pit starting to form inside of his stomach, regret washing over him, wishing that the pit would open up enough to swallow him too… “let me just breathe for a second..!” you huffed, locking eyes with him. your eyes never left his, mark’s eyes would try to flicker away from yours.
to him, it was a miracle. to you, it was a confession. it was years and years of bottled up feelings drowning you both all at once, it was confirmation.
you didn’t hesitate, hands snaking into his hair and pulling him back into a sweet kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he gasped shakily, a sweet nervousness behind his reciprocation. fireworks shot off in his brain, opening his mouth slowly only to be met with the intrusion of your tongue first, licking up against his as you held him tighter, pulling him closer, devouring him whole. god, you were going to kill him. are you going to kill him? give him a heart attack right here, right now? he thought so, hands aimlessly wondering under your shirt with his hips bucking into you with a groan rumbling from his throat, you whining back when his thumbs brushed against your nipples, your hips rocking against his. “w-wan’ you so b-bad-“ he spoke in between kisses, desperately trying to shove his tongue back down your throat straight after. you moved your hands to the hem of your skirt, shuffling out of it and kicking it off the end of your foot and onto the floor. this was hot, hungry. your hands pulled at his sweater, attempting to pull it over his head. he paused, sad to leave your lips once more, to take off his sweater and discard it into a random corner. “y/n, wanna- can i.. please- just the t-tip, only wanna feel it..- please let me, i’ll be quick, p-promise-“ you shut him up with a deep kiss, arms wrapped around his neck, “..i want all of it, mark. i can take you.” and mark almost cums in his jeans right there, nodding lazily and sliding his hand between your bodies to fiddle with the button and fly of his jeans, mentally congratulating himself for not just messily tugging them past his hips. he wasn’t alone with your panties jerking off next to you in your bed while you slept anymore- no- he had time. he could take it slow.
you couldn’t help but moan when you caught sight of his cock, heavy and thick and leaking between his legs, aching for you. who would’ve guessed? your best friend was packing. mark rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his waist, hands pressed on chest. to him, all you had ever done was look down on him, even if you had never intended so. for once, you really were looking down on him, but he was in control. he wanted to be in control, he should have been in control. and with that, the position shifted once more.
mark’s thumbs separated your gooey folds after pulling your panties to the side, he recognised that pair, he had planned on taking them one night. a pair of red lace panties, simple but permanent in his brain. he knew your cunt all too well, the nights where you would need help to stumble back to your dorm drunk when he would tower over your clothed body, flipping up your dress and lick your cunt until he busted against your bedsheets, he could always dismiss it as a yoghurt stain or something if you had ever asked.
mark grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you closer so your cunt was in perfect line of his fat dick, swiping the head up your slit and shivering when you moaned quietly because of the contact to your clit. this was so surreal, he was living in a dream and he never wanted to wake up. you both hissed when he caught his tip on your hole, eyes meeting once more before he let himself go, hands gripping your hips as he pressed into his your warm, wet pussy. you were going to take all of him. “fuuck..! mnh-“ you almost screamed, trying to adjust to his length. mark didn’t care. neither did you. his cock bullied its way into your tight walls, mark whispered small apologies into your ear as you whined at him, slowly gyrating your hips to try and almost run from the stretch, to give yourself a minute to adjust again, “don’t do that- you don’t have to do anything-“ he started, his warm breath fanning over your neck which caused goosebumps on your skin, “you don’t have to do anything other than lay here.. stay still n’ take my cock.” his words made you tremble, you tried to protest, his mouth blocking your words with a kiss, his dick pressing right up against your cervix with a harsh thrust of his hips, gummy gooey walls clenching down on him, a low “ohhh, ohh f-fu..ck-!” rumbling against your lips.
one thrust and he was immediately pussydrunk, your mouth hanging open and tongue poking out when he drew his hips back, slamming them back into you with uneven, inexperienced movements. he fucked like a rabid dog, his nails digging into your skin as he babbled above you,
“d-do you feel full? can’t push any deeper..” followed by a pressure on your stomach, his hand pressing down so he could feel himself thrusting through your body,
“ghnn..- y/n you feel so much b-better than my fleshlight-!” did he even know what he was saying? your walls tightened around him, the wind being knocked out of your lungs again when he pressed harder, lips working against yours, his vision blanking and ears ringing when you didn’t stop tightening and loosening on him, mushy cunt trying to milk him dry.
you couldn’t do anything but moan breathlessly, pushing the hair falling into his face back, his jaw clenched and forehead sweaty, pressing his head against yours. this was it, this was everything his life had been building up to until now. he thought that maybe he had subconsciously made you fall for him, all of the times he had touched you secretly conditioning your brain. he doubted it, but the idea of him and him only reworking your mind to love him made him keen. “yeah, tha’s right.. take it, c’monnn..” he babbled, his eyelashes wet with tears, not knowing or caring whether they were happy tears or the result of his pleasure. you were right on the edge, your moans getting louder and shorter, scrambling to let mark, your best friend, know that you were going to spray all over his pelvis. you’d squirted before but this felt.. different. warmer, hotter. “c-c-!..” you struggled, eyes crossing and back bowing off of the bed, “fffuck-! ghfuckk yeah..- y-you’re cummin-“ he held your hand, hips stuttering when he felt your tight pussy starting to flutter, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping;
warmth flooded your insides, legs twitching when you gushed all over yourself and mark. if you weren’t planning on changing your sheets after this, you definitely had to now. white ropes were out of mark’s cockhead riiiight against your cervix, breeding your cunt as if he had no control over himself, which he didn’t. you both panted, trying to balance your breathing. you felt his hips pull back, cock pulling out and opening the floodgates for thick globs of cum to pour out of you, your best friend rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm, mouth open as he breathed. he was in a daze, completely out of it, both of your liquids stuck to mark’s flaccid dick.
“did you get it out of your system yet?” your voice always bought him back. it was always you, it had always been you. “i… really want to be with you. i wanted- i want you, y/n.” mark spoke sternly, finally being able to complete his sentence from earlier. “i think i could gather that.” you retorted with a laugh. your laugh, his favourite.
you locked eyes, dark murky brown pools staring directly into yours. his pinkie finger hooked around yours, laughter bubbling from both of you. the fairy lights shined in his peripheral vision. the movie’s credits rolled on the screen, the whole movie falling on deaf, horny ears.
it was quiet, the only sounds being of yours and mark’s breathing. this was nice, blissful. peaceful.
“i love you, mark grayson.”
#mark grayson#mark grayson x reader#invincible#dark blog#mark grayson smut#fem reader#invincible smut#invincible x reader#bff!mark grayson#smut
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HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOY
#muz mumbles#CHECKED THE RADAR AND WE ARE RIGHT INSIDE IT#DEAD CENTER OF THE STORM#lightning strikes detected within 2 miles!! damn!!!!!!!!!!#THIS IS CALI WE DON'T HAVE SHELTER#JUST STICKING IT OUT IN THE BEDROOM WATCHING THE LIGHTING#WOOP WOOP
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mmmm thinkin abt mike struggling to be quiet when you’re fucking. SMUT 17+
you were watching abby that night, and as soon as mike got back from work he was on you. peppering kisses along your neck when you were around the corner just out of abby's line of sight, rubbing little circles in your thighs at the dinner table, sweetly asking you to stay longer even whenever the lights were off and abby was tucked in bed.
you knew his plea would result in the two of you in his bedroom, you slowly sinking yourself down onto him. you'd encouraged it, telling mike you'd give him wanted on one condition.
"anything," he'd said, eyes big and earnest.
"you gotta promise to be quiet." your pinkie hovered between you both, waiting for mike to interlink his. he did with a smile, as if it were something easy.
but mike couldn’t stop moaning. his sounds were cute, little gasps and whines. they were arousing. but they were entirely too loud for the low level of privacy you had within the four thin walls.
“mike, please. you gotta be quiet.” you plea through your own barely concealed moan.
he sighs, face scrunching. “i know. i’m sorry, baby. i’m trying.”
but apparently not hard enough as you’re forced to lodge your panties between his teeth, a muffler for his moans. he lets you do so, opening his mouth and even going so far as to make a show of sticking his tongue out for the blue cotton fabric. yet, his sounds still leak through, and you voice an idea as you’re bouncing on his cock, nails lightly scratching down his chest.
“still so loud, mikey. we might have to get a muzzle for nights like these. what’d you think?”
mike's groan practically echoes. he seems oblivious to his own noises, instead thinking with his dick that starts to piston up into you, mike's nails digging into your ass to provide him with leverage.
your hand slaps over his mouth, colliding with soft cotton and warm skin, and mike finally wrenches his eyes open. there's vibration against your hand, short and resembling the pattern of syllables, and you slowly peel your hand away, taking the panties with you, to hear him speak.
just a simple word, curt and quiet and whimpered.
"please."
#the muzzle 😈#mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#fnaf movie
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SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.
synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.
c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.
word count: 2,1k
note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.
ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )
In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.
“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.
“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.
“First movie, pretty iconic.”
“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.
The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.
“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.
“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.
“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.
“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.
“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.
“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.
“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.
“Just saying.”
You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.
“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.
A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.
“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?
“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.
You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.
“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.
“Sugu—“
“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”
Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.
“Do you like scary movies?”
“Mhm,”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.
“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.
“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”
“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”
“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.
“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.
“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.
“Nightmare on Elm Street,”
“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.
“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”
He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.
“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.
Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.
“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.
“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.
“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.
You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.
“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.
“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.
“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.
“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.
He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.
Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.
You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.
Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.
“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.
“Let’s do it again, yeah?”
2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
—💭 if you like this, leave a tip!
#moon's works#yoooou're deaaaad and burieddd darling--AND BRICKED HELLO?#enjoy this because I did too#ghostface suguru my love#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto smut#geto x reader smut#jjk geto#jjk smut#jjk geto suguru#suguru geto smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto suguru#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut
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Gosh I love all of your posts! 😘 I was wondering what your thoughts would be on Alastor trying to court his darling? We all know he’s a gentleman at heart and is very proper. So how would he go about trying to win them over?
• He wouldn't tell anyone except for a very very small select few that he thinks he wants to be more with you. Maybe only Rosie honestly. The Great Radio Demon would never normally ask for help but this is uncharted territory for him
• Rosie would be so excited, acting like a gossiping wine aunt and doing her best to direct Alastor
"You know how you treat Vox? Don't do that."
"You know how you treat Lucifer? Don't do that."
"You know how you treat—"
"Rosie. I get it."
• He does his best to save you a seat beside him whenever he's lounging in the lobby. And even though he wouldn't let you into his bedroom, he would definitely let you know that if you ever need anything at all, you can come find him at any time
• Would know your favourite breakfast, lunch and dinner and regularly have it made for you. You technically don't have to eat anything to survive but he likes the way your eyes light up when you see what's waiting for you downstairs anyway
• Usually he hates when people get near him before he can do it to them—he likes the control he has invading other peoples' space and not when it happens to him
• But he actually enjoys the feeling of your hands and how gentle you are. Has 0 qualms about you being touchy with him because unlike when others get too close, he feels no malice from you. You make him feel comfortably safe
• Alastor would 100% be overprotective of you even if he's not directly hovering over your shoulder. Always keeping an eye on you when you go out and discreetly stepping in when others are too handsy with you
• He would play old tunes for you on the piano, staying up with you well into the night just to watch you sit on the back of it and listen with a smile
• You're not from the same era so he tries to learn about all the technology from your time, even though he despises it
• Eventually others get the hint that Alastor might see you as more than just a friend and try to set the two of you up in their meddlesome ways
"Here they come!" Angel sticks out his leg to trip you and you conveniently fall right into Alastor's arms. He would raise a brow but not question the help.
"I'm sorry!"
"Quite alright, darling."
• On that note, knows that you get a little flustered when he uses pet names so he makes sure to call you his dearest/darling often
• Has you fix his bowtie in the morning. Like, he purposefully leaves it a little undone so that when he sees you, you immediately have a reason to be near him
• When walking with him, he'll always link arms with you and treats you like royalty
• I can't imagine him actually asking you out or anything, he just started acknowledging you as a companion and you went along with it
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 (send an ask to be added!)
#🍓 faye's thoughts <3#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#alastor fanfic#alastor fluff#alastor headcanons#alastor x you#alastor fanfiction#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin fic
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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; newlyweds.
warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, afab! reader, v! penetration, heavily unedited
.: masterlist.
simon was not thrilled when you told him you didn’t want to sleep with him before the wedding, something about it being “bad luck”. at first he didn’t understand but he was willing to oblige, sleeping in the guest room didn’t sound too bad; although he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in a cold bed while you were just a room away — but fighting with you was never a battle he won.
except, when you clarified that you didn’t want to ‘fuck’ before your wedding, he was not having it. he couldn’t stop the baffled laugh that slipped from his lips. it didn’t make sense, you weren’t a virgin; he had the pleasure of stuffing you full of his cock many times while dating. to say he was confused was an understatement.
but, what the bride wants, the bride gets. so weeks go by where simon has to take care of his growing problem by himself; just to tease you, and hopefully make you regret your decision, he’ll get off in bed, right before you go to sleep.
simon will have you watch the way he tugs at his cock with need, his head tilted back with grunts and an uneven breath. his chest heaving as thick ropes of his cum spurt onto his exposed abdomen. he’ll give you a sly smirk before climbing out of bed, his boxers tugged up but hanging too low revealing his v-line.
it takes everything in you to stick to your word, watch every night as simon adds the lewd task into his daily routine. eventually, he’s the one that breaks, the way he stumbles into your shared bedroom and finds you with a hand between your thighs – his name spewing from your lips when you catch sight of him.
he wishes he could say ‘i told you so’ when you’re begging for him, needing to relieve the ache that’s been dwelling in your tummy for so long. he takes one look at your sopping cunt and wonders how long you’ve been trying to stuff your fingers inside of you knowing that they couldn’t reach that gummy spot only he could.
simon shakes his head with a chuckle, taking his time to settle himself between your legs. he kisses your knees, hiking them over his shoulder and winding his arms around your thighs to keep you still. with his thumbs, he’s spreading your folds – a teasing tut and tilt of the head are all you need from him to know that he’ll never let you hear the end of it.
he has to swallow a groan, hard eyes glued to your leaking hole. your juices dribbling from your cunt and dripping onto the bedsheets. “you sure you wanna keep up with your stupid idea? i can make you feel good, take care of you the way you need.” simon asks, almost begging for you to quit being stubborn this once and let him relieve you – to let him fuck you stupid so he can spill his cum deep inside of you instead of wasting it and wiping it off of his chest with a towel.
he just wants to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him, hear your moans as his fat tip nudges against that one spot that makes your walls flutter around his cock. simon’s rutting his hips into the mattress, too lost in his lewd thoughts to hear you reject his suggestion. when he does he’s dropping his head with a low growl.
he never thought he would hate your friends, but he could kill the person who told you about this stupid suspicion. simon is a good boyfriend, he’ll show you how good of a husband he will be too. reluctantly accommodating to your wishes, he stuffs his fingers inside of you instead of his throbbing cock.
oddly enough, he finds himself loving this more. the way your slick coats his hand – his engagement ring. simon is moaning at the sight, his simple soon-to-be wedding band glistening in the dim light as he finger fucks your tight hole.
“aw, honey. s’too much?” he coos, curling his fingers inside of you and pressing his thumb to your clit. he nips at the inside of your thigh and grins at the way your legs tremble, your back arched off the mattress. with his free hand he wraps it around your wrist, squeezing it lightly so you’d loosen your tight grip on the bedsheets below. intertwining your fingers with his, he works you up to another orgasm, talking you through it.
“just like that, baby.” “cum all over my fingers, soak this pretty lil’ ring.”
as much as he enjoys fingering you with his ring on, he loves it when you take a bit of control and take care of him the same way. rubbing over his clothed erection with your left hand, the big diamond on your engagement band looking small next to his sore, hard cock.
simon’s eyes flutter when you squeeze his shaft, precum leaking from his slit and slowly dribbling over your fingers – over your ring, coating the big diamond. he’ll guide your hand up and down his shaft urging you to go quicker, he loves the way your soft hands feel compared to his calloused ones.
he’s bucking his hips upwards into your hand, his head tilted back while he’s whining desperately. simon normally keeps his noises under control but he hasn’t felt your touch in so long.
“fuck, a-ah. can’t wait to marry you and fuck you right.”
his breath hitches when you squeeze his angry red tip, the cool metal of your ring rubbing against his slit. with a deep groan he’s cumming all over your hand; watching with wide eyes, the way your fingers play with his hot, sticky cum.
after your wedding ceremony, simon drags the both of you into the bathroom. shamelessly, he’s bending you over the sink, unzipping his trousers, and hiking your wedding dress up.
“si, we can’t. people are waiting for us.” you squeal when he snaps the garter against your thigh, his rough hands squeezing your hips and pulling your thong down. simon only rolls his eyes, leaning down and spitting on your exposed pussy. he rubs his cock between your folds, using his spit as a lubricant.
“they can wait, m’gonna take care of my wife first.”
how could you say no, especially to your husband?
AN: i know nothing about weddings or marriage, but i heart hubby si
#[ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒. ]#whiny simon ????#ugh but#( 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ )#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader smut#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader smut#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x reader smut#cod#call of duty#cod smut#call of duty smut#cod mwiii#cod mwii#cod mw3#cod mw2#mwii#mwiii#mw2#mw3
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cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, intimacy, cuddling, kisses, domestic atmosphere, established relationship, could be mentions of simon's struggles, ooc simon, no really femenine descriptions of reader.
pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader
heavy arms, tight hugs, soft chest behind your back and warm breath coming against the back of your neck — that's what brings with it sharing the bed with simon.
his hands are always on your body, pressing you tightly against him like a pillow, while calloused, warm palms knead your plush flesh under his fingers, squeezing your ass, shamelessly crawling under the fabric of your panties to press into the softness more harder.
aside from the fact that simon is quite active, because the well honed army routine does not allow him to sit in one place, he more than does not mind spending lazy days in bed, and if these are the days when he returns home from the deployment — then even more so.
whether it's late at night or early in the morning, he goes home at the first possible attempt, through fatigue, through soaked dirt — opens the door to your house as quietly as possible, takes off his shoes on the threshold through aching muscles, but only so as not to leave dirty marks on the floor, and immediately walks towards the bathroom.
washing away the dirt, the blood, the nasty memories — each time there seem to be more of them, and even though there are more good than bad, it's as if the bad is trying to chase him down.
simon looks at his reflection in the mirror always fleetingly, even more often in need to treat the newly formed wounds, but either way he doesn't linger in the bathroom for long, going straight to the bedroom with slightly wet feet against the wooden floor, knowing well that everything he needs — waits for him there.
you're always there, in the same place, with your hands between your thighs to curl up and warm up, when he quietly opens the door and just stands there for a while, watching you, as if soaking up the atmosphere, before walking to the closet and pulling out his pajamas to dress up.
simon comes to his senses, forgetting about the deployment, about the army, only when clothes that smells like fabric softener sticks to his skin, when he feels the softness of the sheets under his feet and hands, and when his hands gently stroke your body before pressing you as close as possible, laying behind you and pressing his nose into the back of your neck with a small, gentle kiss.
an unexpectedly warm feeling makes you wake up slightly, fidgeting before wrapping your arms around his that encircle your waist, running a light sensation of your fingertips along his scarred skin, before calling him so softly, sleepily — “si?..„
for the first time in a long time, simon's breath hitches, there's a prickly warmth in his lower abdomen as he sighs noisily, the wide chest behind you heaves and then slowly sinks, before he buries his crooked nose in the top of your head and responds carefully, with trepidation, closing his eyes tightly with trembling eyelashes — “yeah, lovie, it's me.. i'm — i'm back„
and that's enough for both you and him, because simon will come back to you even if the way back takes seven hours flight or twenty four hour drive.
— “welcome back home, simon„ resounds in the silence of the room, occasionally interrupted by your mingled breath.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
#.𐙚july's writings#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley comfort#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley comfort#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#ghost x f!reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley drabble
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bffs w rafe and he’s obsessed w you. wakes you up by sneaking into your room and yall do stuff 🤭
Locked
summary: the request above!:)
word count: 3.3k
(SPOILERS) warnings: somnophilia(sleeping), dubcon, p in v, fingering, male masturbation, secretive photos, breaking and entering, unprotected sex. MDNI!
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
You really don’t know how it all happened the way it did.
The way Rafe took you under his wing all those years ago. The way he’s constantly glued to your side, going as far as attending parties full of pogues, sticking out like a sore thumb while he marches around, grabbing you another beer when you need it or shooing away the belligerent drunk men trying to hit on you.
Things like this aren’t the norm.
Boys like him just aren’t friends with girls like you. He’s used to a life of luxury; boats, tropical vacations, the most expensive clothes made of materials you can’t even pronounce.
You consider yourself lucky if your water isn’t shut off when you got home after a long day of sweating and panting in the heat.
But the world works in crazy ways, and Rafe Cameron is your best friend.
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
The two of you sit on the edge of your bed, controllers in hand as you peer up at the screen with wide eyes.
“No, no… Rafey!” You squeal as the screen flashes, letting your head drop down, your hair falling across your face with a huff.
He chuckles smugly. “What, kid?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a sly grin written across his face and amusement laced into his voice.
“You said you’d let me win this round.” You mumble, dropping the controller onto the plush rug below your feet.
“What the point in that?” He laughs as he pushes himself to stand. “Like… how would that even be any fun?” He moves in front of you and nudges your forehead with his fingers so that you look up. You trail your gaze up to his own, his blonde wispy hair brushing his brows. “Quit bein’ a baby.” He gives your jaw a light, playful tap.
You flutter your eyes at him before giving him a scowl, falling onto your back and staring at the ceiling as his footsteps audibly trail across your room.
You hear him fumbling with something near your window and turn your head to the side, raising your brows as he turns around holding your planter with a cactus you’ve nearly killed from incorrectly watering it.
“Look at this poor thing,” he chuckles, turning the planter around and examining the plant. “You’ll never have a green thumb.” He laughs and sits the plant down where he found it, patting his pockets as he walks away from his spot.
You sit up and watch as he settles near your bedroom door and grabs his tennis shoes, bending down to pull them over his feet.
“Leaving already?” You ask meekly, already dreading the feeling of his absence though he still stands in the room with you.
“Yeah, gotta go.” He lets out a long sigh as he stands back up to his full height and leans against the door frame. “Got some shit to work through with my dad tonight. I’ll see you soon though.” He walks over to where you sit, grabbing your hands gingerly to help you to your feet. “There’s talks of a party this weekend, yeah?”
“Mhm.” You nod, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Consider me your plus one.” He mumbles into your hair. His strong arms wrap around your waist and hold you flush against his body, his woody aroma flooding your senses.
You can feel his warm palms through the thin fabric of your shirt. They slide around your body as he pulls away from the embrace, taking home on your hips with a light squeeze. You glance up and his blue eyes are already locked onto yours, a grin pulling at the dimples of his cheeks.
“Maybe… practice the game a little bit until then, hm?” He speaks lowly.
“Rafe Cameron!” You shout, slapping at his chest as he puts his hands up in defense, chuckling as he steps back.
“Let me know when to pick you up.” He gives you one final grin before shutting your door gently.
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you took Rafe’s advice to heart and stayed awake as long as your eyes would stay open- practicing that damn game.
You lay peacefully, breathing deep and smoothly atop your blankets with the controller still loosely in your right hand. Your headset is still somehow on your head, softly playing the background music from the loading screen as you hadn’t had a chance to shut it off before your eyes gave out.
You don’t even stir when Rafe slides your window open, being as careful as he can to avoid the glass planter on your windowsill as he creeps into the warmth of your room. He carefully slides the glass shut once more, bringing a shaky hand up and flipping the latch, locking the window that he had made sure was unlocked earlier unbeknownst to you.
I can’t be crazy, she definitely wants me too. Right?
He turns around with a breath held deep in his lungs, praying to any god he can that the floorboards won’t creak beneath his shoes and that his best friend wouldn’t be awake.
His gaze falls onto your sleeping body, soft and still, and he slowly lets out the breath he had been holding in. The light from the screen illuminates your skin, glowing with the different colored hues as it flashes. He takes discreet, soundless steps towards you as he allows his eyes to rake over your figure.
Your hair is beautifully messy, strewn around on the pillow that you lay back against. He pays close attention to your tiny fingers that lazily wrap around the handle of the controller, one arm draped above your head and the other laid out to the side. He peers at your stomach, watching it rise and fall as you breathe.
His eyes wander up. You’re clad in the same tank top you’d been in when he left, but the way your nipples strain against the thin fabric just begging to be touched leads him to the conclusion that you ditched the bra.
It’s like she wants me to look.
I’ll look. I won’t touch her. I’ll look and leave. And then we’ll never think or speak about this again.
He takes microscopic steps toward your bed, his heart pounding against his sternum. His knees graze the edge of the mattress as he closes in on you and he gasps lightly, backing up so he doesn’t cause the bed to dip.
His face turns red, veins protruding from his skin as he holds in every ounce of oxygen he can to lean down beside you, placing his ear next to the side of your headset. He smirks to himself when he hears the music in the speakers, standing back to his full height.
He shoves a hand into his back pocket, fishing around and digging for his phone. He pulls it out and opens his camera, holding it up for the best angle and capturing a perfect image of his clueless best friend asleep in bed.
She doesn’t know how perfect she is.
Something inside of him wants more, wants to touch every inch he can. But he can’t, he has a goal and a plan. Get in and look then get the fuck out.
What would a couple more pictures hurt?
It’s like he moves in slow motion, he can’t control it as he reaches out and grabs the bottom hem of your tank top. You’d think he was performing brain surgery as he inches it up, exposing more and more of the fleshy skin of your abdomen. He wants to brush his fingertips along your skin, to feel every part of you along the way, but he can’t rush this.
Get the picture and go.
He watches as your plump tits spill out from the fabric, jiggling into place and sitting atop your chest, fully bared to him. His breath hitches and he pulls his hand away, gulping as your lashes flutter ever so slightly. You stir for a moment but you stay asleep.
A wave of relief floods through his body and he lifts his phone again, shakily clicking the shutter button. He takes so many more photos than necessary, moving and catching all the angles of your perfect breasts.
It’s like he loses himself. His pulse surges in his ears, beating so loud he’s almost convinced you can hear it over the music. His body betrays his logical mind and before he knows it, his fingertips brush over your delicate skin. He lets out a groan, feeling his pants tighten against his crotch as he moves to touch the other nipple.
To his surprise, your eyes remain closed and the rhythm of your breathing stays steady.
He swipes his phone over to the video setting, hitting the record button as he palms the fat of your tits, letting his fingertips dig into the skin lightly. His veiny hand explores your chest as the camera picks up all the evidence. He allows his hand to slide down the valley of your breasts, slipping across to your ribcage and down to your hip before he stops dead in his tracks.
This is too much of a risk, you’re being fucking crazy.
He stops his recording and shoves his phone back away into his pocket, biting his lip as he scans your body one last time.
Your body reacts to the loss of heat quickly. Your brows furrow and your cherry tinted lips form into a pout. Your legs stretch and move as your busy subconsciously tries to find a more comfortable position. Your leg falls to the side and your head turns the opposite way.
Rafe is frozen solid the entire time, too scared to even blink. He stays that way for a couple minutes, feet locked into his spot and watching you closely for any signs of rousing from your slumber.
But to his surprise, you don’t. You stay blissfully unconscious, your tits still exposed to him.
He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until it’s too late. His cock throbs in the palm of his hand as he grips the base, choking back groans as he begins to slowly pump his length.
This isn’t bad, right? It’s just jacking off. I’m a man and she’s got a nice rack. She would understand.
He bites his tongue and presses it into his cheek as he tightens his grip around his needy member. His tip is red and weeping, streams of precum oozing out and dripping down the rolling veins that decorate his shaft.
He slowly inches closer, dragging his feet across the floor as he speeds up his needy movements. The muscles in his forearm tense and ripple as he desperately pumps himself, waves of dopamine shooting throughout his bloodstream as he stands beside your sleeping body.
I’m fucking sick.
He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help it. He reaches out and lets his hand run up your smooth calf, shuddering at the contrast of the smooth skin against the rough pads of his fingers. They trail up carelessly to the expanse of your thighs and he has to hold back the animalistic urge to squeeze your skin.
Come on Rafe, stop it. Stop here.
His internal battle proves itself to be irrelevant as he does in fact squeeze the skin, his other hand giving his pulsing cock the same amount of pressure.
His breath hitches in his throat and he feels like any composure he’s had is long gone.
He brings his hand up and pulls your shorts to the side, not even caring about the audible moan that falls from his lips when he takes in the sight of your wet pussy.
He bites his lip until he tastes the metallic tinge of blood, sliding his hand up and down his cock as his thumb brushes over your clit with featherlight pressure.
You begin to stir, your body jolted by the foreign feeling, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lets the pad of his thumb press down onto the tender bundle and slide down to your entrance, dipping into your sweet center. He pulls back and traces his index finger across your wet slit before pushing in.
“Sh..shit…” he speaks aloud, sitting onto the mattress.
The sudden shift causes you to snap your eyes open, your vision hazy as it adjusts to the light. Before you can even form a coherent thought you’re suddenly aware of the pressure inbetween your legs. You blink harshly, clearing your eyes of the remaining haze and look up to see two blue eyes staring back at you.
His mouth is moving but you can’t make out his words.
Sitting up abruptly, you scoot back and rip the headset off of yourself, tossing it haphazardly into the floor.
“Rafe?” You squeal in shock, your pulse pumping wildly through your veins.
“Shhh.. sweetheart. Please!” He nearly begs, scooting closer to you. “You’ll wake your whole family.”
You look down and notice his right fist gripping around his cock.
“Just relax, okay?” He whispers.
He hooks his finger into your gummy walls and you let out a strained gasp, looking down to see your best friend knuckle deep in your pussy.
“R-rafe… what a-” you choke on your words as he withdraws his finger and plunges back in.
“It’s okay… shhh.. feels good, doesn’t it?” He murmurs, moving his thumb up to rub circles onto your swollen clit.
Your fatigue ridden brain is having trouble keeping up as waves of confusion and pleasure spread throughout your body.
“It… I don- fuck. W-what are you doing here?” You whine, your hips instinctively bucking closer to his hand despite your best judgement.
“Just wanted to look at you.” He croaks as he resumes his jerking motions on himself. “Then I… I just couldn’t help myself.”
The desperation in his eyes shouldn’t turn you on. The way you woke up to your best friend touching your body shouldn’t turn you on.
But even still you find yourself rhythmically grinding against his hand, dropping every single question from your mind as his finger brushes against a sensitive knot in your core.
“Yeah, there you go.” He coos, scooting closer to you and releasing his grip on his erection to paw at your tits. “So fucking pretty. Wanted to put them in my mouth so bad.”
“So do it.” You say before you can even think, reaching up to rid yourself of the fabric that served no purpose anymore.
A smirk grows from ear to ear before he leans forward, cupping the area right below your breast and right above your ribcage to push your skin into his mouth. He doesn’t stop the curling movement of his finger, he adds another one into your now drenched pussy as he sucks and licks at your nipple. You can’t help but arch your back into him, using both of your shaking arms to keep yourself propped up. He hums and groans against your skin as he removes his fingers from your core and hooks a strong arm around you, ridding you of the struggle and pulling you into his lap.
“Let me fuck you.” He whispers against your neck as he leaves hot open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin.
You do nothing but nod eagerly, lifting yourself off enough to pull your shorts off in a rushed motion, him yanking his jeans and boxers down in the process. He reaches behind his head to grip the neckline of his shirt and toss it to the side. He grips the base of his cock as you sit back down and slaps it against your core, making you shudder at the sting it leaves on your aching clit.
He holds himself steady as you line his head up with your entrance, slowly sinking down to take in his length. The stretch is blissfully painful, and you take your time to let yourself adjust to him. One of his hands settles on your hip and encourages you down while the other rests against your throat, not adding pressure but leaving a tingling burn where it sits. When you sit fully down his head falls back and his fingers dig into your skin, gripping around your hipbone.
“So… so fucking big.” You sigh, rolling your hips back and forth.
His ego visibly inflates and he nods slyly. “I know. And look at you taking every fucking inch.”
A strained whine digs its way from deep in your chest and echoes off the walls as you lift yourself up and sink back down. His thick cock pushes against your clenching walls and fills you up beyond what you’d ever thought was possible. You get your rhythm and start bouncing up and down, crying out each time his tip kisses your cervix.
“Gotta be quiet, baby doll. Your parents would never let me over again if they knew I was fucking their little innocent princess like this.” He whispers and runs his fingers over your bottom lip, eyes widening when you accept them and let him lay them flat across your tongue.
You hum around his digits and whimper when he bucks his hips up to meet your own, sending a shockwave through your core. He takes notices and does it over and over, a satisfied glint apparent in his hooded eyes.
Your walls contract and squeeze around his throbbing length as the tension in your stomach threatens to snap. You flash your doe eyes at him and swirl your tongue around his fingers as he pounds into you from below, every ragged breath that falls from his mouth fanning across your skin.
“You’re close.” He says matter of factly. “Give it to me.”
He moves the hand on your hip to the space where the two of you meet, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit. You’re coming undone around him before you have time to utter a response, biting down on his knuckles and clawing at the skin of his chest. The pleasure tears through you like a wildfire, every synapse in your brain firing and focused on the orgasmic relief Rafe is giving you.
He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and moves both hands to your hips, lifting you up and down like a toy as he ruts into your pussy. “Gonna let me cum in you? Let me.” He grits his teeth as if he’s holding back. “Tell me to cum in you.”
“R-rafe, please.. cum in me. Don’t want you to pull out.”
With the dirty confirmation he craved, he releases, spilling hot white ropes of cum into you and painting every inch of your walls. You feel his warmth flood your core and you slump against his chest, rocking with every deep breath he heaves.
You sit like this for a while, sweaty and sticky and fucked out as he lazily runs his hands up and down your bare back. The beat of his heart against his chest is almost enough to put you back to sleep, but you whine when he lifts you off of his body and sits you back in your original position against your pillows. You sit in silence as he collects his clothes and redresses, smoothing his hair with his hands.
He slowly makes his way back to the bed and uses an arm to keep himself steady as he leans down and places a lingering kiss to your temple. He stands up without a word and walks to your window, undoing the latch and pushing it up. He turns around with a smirk and a deep chuckle before he crouches down.
“Gotta make sure to keep this thing locked.”
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88
#rafe fic#outerbanks rafe#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe obx#obx s3#obx s2#obx smut#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx fic#obx#outer banks#bff!rafe#rafe fics
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sitting pretty : jaemin ꒰୨୧꒱
cw: jaemin x inexperienced (?) reader, pwp, established relationship, fem! reader, jaemin has a teeny bit of a corruption kink, explicit smut, size kink, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, so many pet names, jaemin being so sweet
wc: 2.6k
18+ minors do not interact!
you’re sitting at the foot of the bed in only the littlest shirt, snugly fit on your breasts, and a pair of soft, pink cotton panties. your feet are tucked under your bum and you’re slightly bouncing in anticipation. you’re being so good, despite the burning need that blossoms between your legs, and you know being good gets you rewarded. you haven’t checked, but from the way the material sticks to your center, it’s safe to assume you’ve pooled your underwear with your arousal.
jaemin, seemingly unphased, lies on his side facing you, head propped up straight on his hand so he can gawk at the way your nipples poke through your shirt. his eyes take in every bit of your skin, as they do every single time you’re on display for him, before his lips part slightly.
“you’re so stunning,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss to your knuckles. a slight pout forms on your lips and your shoulders slouch slightly. this doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who blinks up at you in concern. “what’s wrong, doll?”
“why—” your eyes dart around as red spreads across your cheeks, “why won’t you… fuck me,”
“huh?”
“i mean…” you sigh, “if i’m so stunning, why don’t you ever fuck me…is it because you don’t want to?”
“oh, baby,” he coos, leaning up to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “you have no idea how bad i want to. i was just getting you ready for me,” he gives you a soft kiss, which you return effortlessly, “don’t wanna hurt my pretty baby,”
“i can take it!” you assure him eagerly, sitting up straighter, “i want to take it, wanna make you feel good,”
he tuts as his dick jolts in his pants, your words riling him up more than you could begin to imagine; he doesn’t show it in his voice, though, which remains steady as he nods, “alright. let’s work up to it then, yeah?”
despite having made you come on his tongue and fingers a number of times before, he’s been adamant about not fucking you just yet. he’s been patient, caring, and gentle, in the bedroom and out of it, tending to your needs just how he knows you like it. truthfully, there’s nothing he wants more than to sink himself into the heaven that is your pussy, but he’s known from the first time he felt the grip of your walls around his fingers that his length simply would not fit in such a tight, little space.
he’s since had to resort to a form of size-training, something he didn't think he would enjoy nearly as much as he does. he takes great pleasure in the process of prepping you, though, sometimes even coming in his pants just from the sight of you all dazed and high off your fourth orgasm.
jaemin’s eyelids suddenly get oh so heavy, large hands trailing up your smooth thighs and finding solace on your hips when you crawl onto and settle down in his lap. your panties are pressed against your core, marking every curve of your folds. even if jaemin hadn’t seen your pretty pussy countless times before, he’s sure he could make out every detail just from the outline alone.
there’s a light blush on your cheeks when you wrap your entire hand around his index finger, drawing the digit up to your mouth to suck on it. a lazy smile falls on jaemin’s lips as he watches you—decidedly, if his little angel wasn’t so soft and fragile, he would’ve spun the two of you around and fucked you into the mattress from this action alone.
his focus is unfaltering as little mewls start leaving your puckered lips. your hips swivel, giving an experimental roll against his bulge, and you shudder at the feeling.
he watches eagerly as the material brushes against your cunt. when you repeat the action, it’s with a certain precision, and then you do it again, and again. at first, he thinks you’ve found the angle or spot that best stimulates your clit, but then, his eyes leave the area where your bodies meet and he notices in your curious expression that you are in reality, watching him. you’re trying to tease him, get him off… and god, is it working.
“jaemin…,”
“i know, sweetheart. let me help you,” he scoots you down his thighs just enough to pull his length free from his boxers, “we’re gonna try something first, to get you all nice and wet for me,”
“but i am wet for you,”
“patience, baby. i promise you’re gonna like this. said you wanted to make me feel good, right?” you nod, “so, give me your hand,” your obedience earns you a low hum of approval, and he molds your palm over the head of his dick. then, he gently moves aside your panties with his free hand to reveal your glistening folds. he brushes his thumb against it to collect some of the slick, all the while guiding your hand up and down his length. through tightened teeth, he instructs you, “I want you to match my pace, okay?”
“mhm,”
he releases your hand to hold your hip once more as his thumb begins slow, dragging circles on your clit. Instantly, he sees you shiver at his actions, and you pump his head slowly to fulfill his earlier request.
he takes care to spread your folds, listening intently for the sticky sound of your wetness squelching against his digit.
you do just as he asks, pumping quicker when his thumb speeds up, and slowing down as best as you can when he does the same. It’s torturous, the constant change in pace—the push and pull that brings you close to coming, then drags you away.
“such a good girl,” he praises, noticing your incessant pants. you’re writhing on his lap, grinding yourself into his hand in hopes of reaching your release. when he doesn’t make a move to go any faster, you take matters into your own hand, jacking him off. jaemin gasps, placing his hand over yours.
“those weren’t the rules, baby,”
“I don’t care,” you whine breathlessly, “just want your cum,”
he scoffs, peeling your hand off. his thumb continues to work you as he seethes, “you want my cum? think you can take it? then sit on it.”
“what?”
“you heard me. want my dick that bad? sit on it, angel.”
you consider his offer for a moment, then sigh out at the virtue of the pleasure he’s giving your bud right now. you need to come so bad, you have been so good—he’s teased you for so many days in a row and you haven’t complained once until now. despite the nerves bubbling in your stomach, you decide the prize of feeling him fill you up is much too tempting to pass up. If you could take three of his fingers, surely, you could take him, too.
with unsteady legs, you lift yourself up a bit, aligning yourself with his dick. the size of his length is much more intimidating all of a sudden, now that you know you’re moments away from sinking down on him. by the looks of it, it could easily reach your belly button. he notices your hesitation, but you bite back your concerns and gulp, refusing to cower now—jaemin would just torture you all over again. you’d never hear the end of it, taunts about how he knows what was best for you and how you should always listen to him. you had to do this, you wanted to.
you let out a shaky sigh slip past your lips as his tip pushes past your narrow entrance, squeezing your eyes shut at the burning stretch. your mouth forms an ‘o’, but no noise comes out. inch by inch, you sink lower, jaemin’s eyes trained fiercely on you to watch how far your stubborn tantrum will take you.
“how’s it feel, sweet girl?”
“good,” you reply through your teeth, even though in reality, it doesn’t feel good at all. It hurts, bad, and you keep your eyes shut so your boyfriend doesn’t see the way tears are welling up in them. but jaemin knows you too well, he notices your tenseness, your body rigid as you struggle to fit all of him. the hand rubbing your waist invites you to relax, but when your ass finally meets his thighs, his dick is so deep within you that it pushes against your cervix. you let out a shaky sob and his features soften.
“oh, angel.” he mumbles, sitting up gently. his hands fly up to hold your face, “look at me,”
“so—so big,” you hiccup.
“i know. i told you so, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay. d’you wanna stop?”
you quickly shake your head, gripping his shoulders, “no. i want you.”
“okay, okay,” he nods, “let me help you.” he practically cradles your shaking form and flips the two of you around slowly without pulling out, laying you on your back against the fluffed pillows of your bed.
“thought you wanted me to ride you,” you whimper, and he shushes you gently.
“i knew you wouldn’t be able to. just wanted to see how far you’d actually go, but i don’t want you to get hurt anymore, so we’re going to try it like this. if you need me to stop, you tell me and i will, okay?”
you nod clearly, and he sits back on his heels, keeping only his tip tucked within your walls. softly, he pushes in a bit, then draws back out, groaning at the feeling. when your face softens, he tries it again, until there’s no trace of discomfort on your features. this goes on for a bit, you taking two or three inches of him at most, until he pushes a bit further and you moan out.
“there we go. that wasn’t so bad, right?”
“feels so good now.”
with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he pushes in again, though he doesn’t bottom out just yet. your pussy flutters around him and your muscles finally fully relax. then, and only then, when your features have become blissful, does he make a move to pick up speed.
you sigh out, gripping his arms “oh, my god,”
you’re so wet that his dick is glistening every time he pulls out, cunt gushing and squelching around him. he thrusts in deeper still, until finally, his balls hit your ass.
“you’re all the way in?”
“stuffing you full, baby.” he confirms.
“it feels so much better than when—” a moan interrupts you when he readjusts, “—than when i tried it,”
“i know. you wanna sit like this for a bit or do you—”
“no! I mean… move, please. i want you to move. It feels really good now, jaem, please fuck me,”
your sweet words make his balls tighten, and he happily obliges, staring to buck into you at his leisure.
this time, your whines are ones of certain pleasure, and you can’t help but wiggle your hips slightly to meet his thrusts. jaemin isn’t doing anything to hold back his sounds either, and every deep grunt and groan is going straight to your soaked core. there isn’t an ounce of pain left, besides the occasional stretch that at this point, feels delectable, rewarding even. the moment his thumb attaches to your clit again, the feeling in the pit of your stomach starts to grow.
“jaemin, baby—”
“taking me so well,” he mutters, “this pretty pussy is all mine, now. all for me to use as i please,”
the pleas that fall from your lips are borderline pathetic, humiliating even, but the way jaemin’s eyes take you in like you’re the most beautiful and delicate thing only encourage you to get louder. he fucks you faster and brings his hands up to lift your shirt up. your hand cups your own breasts over his and you cry out as he palms it, rolling your nipple between his fingers.
you undoubtedly enjoy his fingers and you fucking love his tongue, but this feeling is like nothing you’ve even felt before. you can feel every drag of his cock within your gummy insides, every time his tip kisses your cervix… the pressure continues building, so much so that your insides feel like they’re on fire.
“i’m–i–i think i’m gonna—” the quiver in your voice matches up with your shaking legs, ankles locking around your boyfriend’s waist.
“please come on my dick, sweetheart. shit—need to feel you coming around me,” his voice is tight, and you can tell he’s not far off from his own release. with the way your legs keep him close, it dawns on him that he can't pull out, “baby, loosen up,” he taps your leg, “i can’t hold off much longer with the way you’re milking me,”
“come inside me,”
his hips stutter and he blinks down at you, “what?”
your curled, tear-coated lashes flutter at him and his thumb wipes some drool from the corner of your lips as you plead him, “want your cum inside me, please,”
jaemin picks up his pace again, and his thumb rubs your puffy clit until you gasp, brows pinching and heat rushing to your cheeks. your pussy convulses around him as you come, gripping any bit of him. his wrist, his arms, his shoulders, his hair—all of them take turns being clutched in your fists as you slur his name, chanting ‘please’ and ‘don’t stop.”
“good girl. good fucking girl,”
it doesn’t take long for you to register his load filling you up just moments later, the warm seed coating his dick in a ring of white as his thrusts slow, the only sound left in the room being the pants from both of you. your legs go limb, unwrapping from around him, but he doesn’t move to pull away; instead, he collapses on top of you, but keeping his head up so he can press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.
“was that okay?”
“more than okay,” you reply breathlessly.
his strokes your hair calmly, waiting until you’ve recovered before slipping out of you and crawling off the bed. A moment later, he’s returned with a glass of water which he hands you, and a towel. slowly, in case you were any kind of sore, he spreads your legs, the sight making him laugh.
“what’s wrong?” you ask after taking a long drink, leaning up on your elbows to look.
“nothing in the slightest. m’just admiring,”
“oh,” you hum.
aftercare from jaemin is always great, but there’s something different about today—about the way he dabs at you softly with the warm towel, leaving trails of kisses on the plush of your inner thighs, that causes your heart to leap in your chest. when you’re clean, and kissed to his satisfaction, he places the towel aside and grabs a clean pair of panties from your drawer to slide up your legs.
new boxers clothe him, too, and then he grabs your cup and places it on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets beside you. instantly, you nuzzle your face into his neck and he wraps his big arms around you, tucking you close.
“does anything hurt?” he whispers, lips pressed against your head.
“a little sore, i think.”
“1-10?”
“hmmm…” you turn to look up at him as you ponder, meeting his pretty eyes, “maybe a 4,”
“my poor baby,” he mumbles, “i’m sorry,”
“don’t be,” you kiss him, “i’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
his lips chase yours and he smiles, “yeah? round two?” your eyes widen like saucers and he laughs, “i’m only joking, doll.”
“after a little nap, i’ll be good as new.” you beam, “maybe then, i can try riding you,”
“patience, baby… we have to ease into that,”
with a roll of your eyes and a grumble of “you and easing into things, jaemin, i swear–” you lay your head on his chest once more and drift off as he plays with your hair.
‹𝟹
#nct#jaemin#nct smut#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct moodboard#nct x reader#nct u#jaemin imagines#jaemin fluff#nct jaemin#nct dream fluff#nct dream scenarios#nct dream#nct drabbles#na jaemin#jaemin smut#nct dream smut#nct dream imagines#nct dream reactions#jaemin x reader#nct dream x reader#jaemin icons#nct icons
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hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭
Finders, Keepers.
16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates
Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - smut!! + cursing
Word Count - 1185
Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.
The Roommate Collection.
Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.
It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.
He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.
He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.
You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.
"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"
Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.
"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."
You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.
You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.
Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.
"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"
"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."
"Waffles it is."
Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.
"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.
The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.
"Is that my shirt?"
You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.
"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."
"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."
You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.
"Are you... alright, Carmy?"
"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."
"... like what?"
"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."
He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.
He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.
"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.
"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."
You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.
Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.
He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.
As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.
"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."
You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.
"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."
He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?
You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.
"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."
You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.
"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."
When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.
"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.
"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"
#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto x reader smut#the bear#the bear fanfic#the bear fanfiction#the bear imagine#jeremy allen white#the bear smut#the bear x reader#murphy's 500 followers celebration
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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]
-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]
-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.
[Part 2] Part 3
-> <-
You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.
Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.
Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.
You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.
Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.
You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.
Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.
When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.
Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.
You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?
You shy away from the window.
Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.
If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.
As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.
The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.
You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.
After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.
“Jesus!” You curse.
The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.
You toss the milk.
Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.
By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.
That’s exactly what you do.
The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’
You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.
“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.
You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”
“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”
“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”
The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.
The school bell rings.
You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.
Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.
You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.
Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.
Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.
“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.
Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”
You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?
“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.
You’re toast.
Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.
“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.
You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.
“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.
See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.
Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.
“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”
“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.
You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.
You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”
You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.
“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”
Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.
Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.
You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.
“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”
Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.
“What’s going on here?!”
Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.
“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.
“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.
Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”
You gulp.
It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.
You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.
That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.
After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.
“Over there!”
Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.
Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.
It’s Eddie.
“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.
Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”
“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”
Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”
“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”
“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”
Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.
“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.
Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.
"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."
"This is so humiliating," you cry.
Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”
“You’re sorry?”
You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.
“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”
“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”
“Wild imagination?!”
“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”
“You done?”
“No!” You snap. “Yes.”
“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”
"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.
“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”
“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.
You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”
Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”
“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”
Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.
“We’re okay,” he says.
-> <-
Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.
“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.
Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”
“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”
Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.
“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”
“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”
Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.
Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.
“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”
Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!
“Really?” Wayne excites.
Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”
“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”
“No-,”
“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”
“Wayne-,”
“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”
“Wayne!”
“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”
That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.
You smoke one joint.
After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.
“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.
Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”
“Oh, my God.”
Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.
It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.
“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.
Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”
“Son-,”
“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”
Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.
“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”
Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.
“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.
He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.
“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.
Eddie nods.
“You have to try,” he insists.
“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.
Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.
Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.
Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.
Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.
You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.
When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.
Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.
When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.
The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.
Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.
Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.
Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.
You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.
This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.
The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.
Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.
Oh, God. What was he doing?
Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.
Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.
His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.
Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.
“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.
Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.
“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.
You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”
Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.
“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.
You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.
Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”
He reads your face.
“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”
Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”
While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.
You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.
The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.
You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.
You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.
Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’
You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?
Because that’s not you standing at the alter.
That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.
“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.
He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”
Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.
You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.
It doesn't take long for him to ask,
"Can I take you out sometime?"
And, of course, you say. "Yes!"
-> <-
tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson preference#eddie munson imagine#angst#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things preference#stranger things fic
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something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.
wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.
wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.
"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.
"i'm planning to."
"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.
"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.
"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."
the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.
"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.
"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.
"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."
steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.
"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.
"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."
"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.
eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."
steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."
right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.
"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.
"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."
eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"
"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.
"love it," eddie whispers.
"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.
"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.
over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.
"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."
"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."
"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.
wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.
"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.
"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.
"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.
"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.
eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.
steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.
"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.
"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."
"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."
"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.
steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.
"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."
"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.
eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"
"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."
"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.
steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"
"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.
steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."
"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.
steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."
eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."
steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.
"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.
"well i--" eddie stutters.
"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.
eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.
"wayne's meds," steve whispers.
"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"
steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."
#emily writes#emily's brain worms attacking her at work once again!!!!!#steddie ficlet#steddie#steddie au#steddie fics#steve harrington/eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Spring Showers
Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer Reid
Description: In an attempt to scare you, your husband pulls back the shower curtain while you’re not expecting him and sees a sight for sore eyes
Content/Warnings: Failed attempt at a prank, masturbation (f), shower sex, oral (f rec), unprotected sex
Word Count: 1.2K
Kinktober Day Twenty Four: Shower Sex
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
Spencer was thrilled to be able to come home at a reasonable time when you were awake. The case he spent the past three days on had a happy ending, which he was so grateful for. Now he was just ready to get home to you and spend the rest of your evening together.
He had gotten home half past six, walking into the house that was too quiet. You must’ve been cleaning or napping. As he placed his satchel down and walked deeper into the apartment, he heard the soft sounds of music coming from the direction of your shared bedroom. That’s when he realized you were in the shower.
With a devious smile, he was gently getting his shoes off before approaching the bedroom door. His plan was to give you a good scare and have a laugh about it afterwards. As his mismatched sock-clad feet were shuffling through the house, he was slowly opening the bathroom door. The pop playlist you had on was echoing through the bathroom, so loud he couldn’t hear you in the shower whenever you had two fingers pushed deep into your soaked pussy. You’d been feeling desperate for the past few days and with Spencer away on a case, you didn’t want to bother your exhausted husband.
These past few days have been torture, unable to make yourself cum because your own fingers or your toys just couldn’t cut it. You’d had enough of feeling uncomfortably turned on, so while the sounds of Taylor Swift were filling your ears, you were leaning against the cool tile wall of the shower as you tried to bring yourself to orgasm, only having a few huffs and whines of desperation.
Spencer was only raising an eyebrow as he’d heard a soft whine, his hand gently gripping the curtain before tugging it open. However the sudden burst of light had your eyes shooting open, your hand quickly gripping a shampoo bottle as your husband caught you by surprise. By the time you realized it was him though, you were only huffing. “Spencer! You scared the hell out of me!” You scolded, watching as the male offered a smile. “I wanted to give a good greeting but man, I think you beat me.” He teased.
“I’m glad you liked the show but I give up.” You huffed, the sexual frustration affecting your mood. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m home then, huh? I don’t wanna brag but we both know that I am good at making you cum.” You were letting your eyes widen as the fully clothed man was stepping into the shower. “Your clothes!” You couldn’t help but laugh, watching the outfit darken as he was soaking himself. “I didn’t wanna take too long!” He admitted while laughing as he was dropping down to his knees in front of you.
You were watching your husband sink to his knees, the hot water making his hair stick to his forehead as he was lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. Your hand was threading through the wet curls, slicking them back so they weren’t in his way. His tongue had licked a fat stripe over your slit as he relished in the way you let your head fall back.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathed as his tongue licked up your slit before letting it lap over your clit a few times. “I’ve missed you.” He spoke, voice practically muffled between your legs as he was taking your clit into his mouth while sucking lightly while he was running one hand up your body, his hand resting on your right breast before he was squeezing it, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. This was the best welcome home he had ever received, he had to admit it.
As he was eating like you were his last meal, his tongue was lapping up every ounce of arousal oozing from your cunt as his nose was bumping against your clit in the process. You were in heaven, not getting this pleasure since a few days before he left on the case he had just arrived home from. The bathroom was filled with whatever music was in your rotation coupled with the moans and cries you were letting spill from your mouth.
You’d been waiting days for this, so it was no surprise you were inpatient. Your hand was gently tugging his hair back, much to his dismay as he whined from being pulled away from your sweetness. “I need you so bad. Please, you can eat me out for hours later if you want to but I just..” He didn’t need another word as he was quickly pushing himself to stand and letting his mouth smash against yours.
You could taste yourself faintly on his tongue, heightening onto the arousal pooling in your belly as you let your hands work on unbuttoning Spencer’s shirt as he was letting his hands work on his pants in order to get them off as well. When the sopping wet clothes were tossed in the bottom of the shower, you were keeping him steady as he quickly got his socks off as well.
The minute his hands were under your thighs, you were jumping into his arms as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His hand was gripping at his cock that was standing at attention by this point, the thick head pushing into your weeping pussy as you connected your lips, both of your moans mixing within each other’s mouths.
After days of being desperate and giving up, you were whining into his mouth as his hips were thrusting slowly, cock giving your cunt a delicious stretch that you’d been desperately craving. You relished in feeling every ridge and vein, as if you would forget after the fact and you needed to savor it while you were graced with it. Spencer’s head had dipped to your neck, his lips pressing kisses against your skin as he let out a soft groan. “I’ve missed you so much.” His breath was hot against your flesh as he let his teeth playfully nip at your skin, eliciting a little yelp.
As his cock made an assault on your pussy, your fingers were tangling in his hair as you cried from please, hands roughly pulling at his hair as he was pistoning into the spongy spot where you needed him most. “Right there!” You gasped out, urging him to speed up with his thrusts as your body was bouncing just a bit with each thrust.
Your hands fell to his shoulders as your walls were spasming around his shaft, clenching around him as your greedy pussy tried taking more of him even though it wasn’t possible. You didn’t have much of a chance to warn him as you could feel the familiar warmth spreading through your body, however judging by his cock twitching inside of you, he was close too.
After a few sloppy pumps, it wasn’t long until you were tightly gripping onto one another as you both were hitting your peaks, his cum filling your desperate cunt and making your body shiver as you could feel the combined arousal dripping down your thighs.
“Best welcome home ever.’ Spencer laughed, attaching his lips to yours.
#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds smut#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#strawbeerossi kinktober 2023
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