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#didn’t think it was possible to be more attracted to him but
idleoblivion · 3 days
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"How do I Look?" Ace Trappola x GN Reader
Synopsis: He doesn’t get why you’re so excited for this stupid dance, but he stops complaining once he sees you dressed up.
Word Count: ~1k
A/N: Fun fact I absolutely hated Ace when I started the game and now I'm ride or die for that stupid ginger I love him
Warnings: Ace is majorly in denial, you both tease each other
“Are you almost done?” He shouts into the air.
He’s seriously had enough of this. He’s sitting on the creaky old couch in the common room of Ramshackle, where he's been for 20 minutes waiting for you.
“You’re the one who wanted to wait for me so bad!” You yell back at him from upstairs.
“Whatever, just don’t complain about how late we are when you’re finished!”
What you said was true, technically. He had decided to wait for you to get ready while the rest of your friends went ahead of you. But that was just because he wanted to spend as little time as possible at that stupid dance, that was all. He messed with the collar of his dress shirt, not liking how stuffy his outfit made him feel.
What was the point of this? He knew he’d end up just standing off to the side, he wasn’t interested in dancing. If it was some casual after school thing maybe he would, but he hated having to dress fancy and look nice all for a dance that was too formal to let loose at. He had half a mind to convince Deuce to ditch it with him, but you were adamant about going. And then your enthusiasm rubbed off on Deuce, so his choices were to suck it up or spend the whole night alone. Which still wouldn’t have been awful, but he kept remembering that glum look on your face when he had started saying he didn’t want to go.
But it’s not like he cared about making you sad, it was just easier to give in than deal with you pouting about it. Yeah, that was it.
He pulls out his phone and checks the time again. It’s been 25 minutes now and he groans. He wasn’t in a rush to get there, but were you moving slow on purpose? It was just as boring hanging out on your couch by himself as it would’ve been at the dance. He’s about to yell at you again when he finally hears your bedroom door open, and your footsteps as you head towards the stairs.
“Finally, took you long enough.” He turns his head to look at you, and the follow up remark he had ready gets caught in his throat.
You look…nice. He tries to shut that thought down, but as he looks you up and down it only reinforces itself. You look really, really good.
You always do. It drives him crazy, annoys him even. He’s one of your best friends, so you let yourself be more casual around him. He’s seen you wake up after a sleepover with your hair an absolute disaster. He’s seen you sweaty and tired after convincing you and Deuce to play basketball with him. He’s seen you with bags under your eyes from studying for so long with him. No matter what you’re doing, you always look good.
But that’s just because you’re attractive! He can own up to that, he thinks, it’s pretty objective. He can say you’re attractive without it meaning anything. Surely almost everyone at this school thinks that, he can’t be the only one.
…Why did that thought upset him more? He didn’t like you, but it would make sense if other guys did. You’re more than good-looking, you were charming too. You’re funny and kind and smart and thoughtful, you really would be the perfect-
FRIEND. You’re the perfect friend, a great friend. An awesome friend who has his back, isn’t afraid to hold him accountable, can stand up to his teasing, gets along with his other friends, and always makes time for him. You’re a really, really good friend, and that’s it.
You stand at the bottom of the staircase, oblivious to the way you’ve made his mind start racing. You jokingly strike a pose and smile at him.
“How do I look?” you ask. As if you really need to. As if you weren’t giving him a crisis.
“...You’ve looked worse.” 
You roll your eyes and walk over to smack his arm lightly. “Thanks, jerk. Let’s get going now, the other guys are probably wondering where we are.” “And whose fault is that?”
“Shut up!”
You continue to argue lightheartedly as you walk out of your dorm, and all the way up to the main school building. He’s got another sarcastic remark locked and loaded when you put your arm around his and he freezes. You notice him tense up and laugh.
“Come on, take me in like a gentleman. Since you wanted to walk in alone with me so badly.” “Did not!” His face is red and muscles feel stiff, but he makes no move to stop you. You laugh at him again but before he can retort you’re dragging him in through the doorway.
“Maybe I’ll make you dance with me, too. Since you were so eager to get here.”
He wasn’t at all, but he doesn’t say that. He’s a little preoccupied with the weight of your arm around his still, and how every time he sees you out of the corner of his eye his heart skips a beat.
But of course, it doesn’t mean anything. Definitely not. Not at all.
“I’m serious. You’re dancing with me, since if you don’t you’ll just be a killjoy standing in the corner. Come on.” You declare with a teasing smile. You pull him by the arm into the middle of the room with you.
…You're going to be the death of him, he’s sure of it.
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emssturniolo · 1 day
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‘<3’
pairing: christopher sturniolo x reader
summary: a little trip to boston and a little less sleep leads to a love confession
warnings: no use of y/n this time (no oc name either), friends to lovers, crying (good tears), and fluff :)
a/n: i’ll do anything for a good friends to lovers fic
this is cute, a little long too ;)
you were tired, and you didn’t think it through.
you were lying in nick’s bed after a full day with the triplets. they had taken you with them back to boston for the beautiful weather, and they didn’t let you book a hotel, so you were staying with them for the full two weeks. today had been the funnest day you’ve had so far, and the most tiring. you had gone bowling, gotten ice cream, went to a thrift shop, then to the mall, and lastly out to eat - and then you had spent the night up until two in the morning to play four whole rounds of monopoly.
saying you were tired was an understatement.
so now that you had showered, done your skin care, and gotten into bed, you were ready to go to sleep, but right before you turned your phone off, you got a text from chris.
chris😎
hey i had a lot of fun today :)
goodnight !
now this may seem normal, and yeah, it was - but you couldn’t take it that way given your mind had been focusing on nothing but him lately. you had no idea where it came from. not a single clue. but all of a sudden, you were just drawn to the boy more than the other two, and you realized that the way you felt about him was way different that you felt towards nick and matt.
and you were shy sure, but chris had always given you a confidence boost whenever he was around, so in reality, you had the courage to tell him how you felt; the only thing stopping you was thinking of possibly ruining the strong bond you had with nick, so kept all you feelings to yourself.
being real though, all it did was make your feelings grow stronger, and receiving this text from his at two am just made your heart flutter, plus you were already tired, and you always got more mushy when you’re tired.
chris😎
hey i had a lot of fun today :)
goodnight !
i had so much fun
chris, thank you !
goodnight<3
now you sent that little heart to everyone - it was your signature thing. yet, chris, who unbeknownst to you had reciprocated feelings towards you took it differently. he felt his face heat up as he lay under his comforter, and he smiled a wide toothy grin at the text, even though you couldn’t see him.
chris had commitment issues; all of his friends knew that. hell, the entirety of the internet knew that. but the attraction he had to you was so much stronger, and so different to anything he had felt before, it’s like the fears he had all vanished just when he thought about you.
but still, the mindless text was sent and he just double tapped it to let you know he had seen it. you had long fallen asleep next to nick, while he stayed up all night thinking about it, so much so that the next morning he was undoubtably tired.
he tagged along to your day of adventures, filming a vlog with trevor, where you got to just spoil the dog all day, but by the time the camera was off, he was exhausted.
and you had noticed he was off the whole day, but you didn’t want to bother him by asking him what had happened, and you had forgotten about the little message you had sent him the previous night. your heart got the best of you though. you sat at the kitchen table in their house, eating dinner a little too late. everyone was immersed in a conversation, while chris sat on his phone completely immersed in it. he scrolled on tiktok aimlessly, while processing nothing he was watching - his mind too occupied with the thought of being able to lean into you, and falling asleep like that.
after everyone had eaten, you offered to wash the dishes, and no one denied it since everyone was a little tired. nick and matt had opted to go to their rooms, while chris silently stayed on the table, still scrolling.
you thought now was the time to ask him if he was alright; maybe you two being alone would make him more comfortable to open up. so you spoke gently and asked him,
“hey chris, everything alright?”
he was not expecting you to talk to him for whatever reason, so he slightly jumped when you asked the question. you missed it though, because your back was facing him while washing the dishes still.
he took a second to reply, so you looked back at him and smiled when his eyes met yours.
“yeah, i’m okay. just a little off, i don’t know why though so don’t worry about it.”
he was lying through his teeth. and you could tell. so you pushed him a little more.
“you know you could talk to me about anything, i won’t judge you, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
by the time you finished you sentence you had finished washing the dishes and dried your hands, making your way next to him on the table, pulling out a chair and looking at him lovingly.
he was ready to say he was okay, but the second he looked at you, he broke down.
he didn’t know if it was the look of pure love and concern in your eyes, or the fact he was just down bad for you at this point. it could hav even been the fact he was tired as shit.
the boy just leaned into your side and softly cried. you had never seem someone cry so gently before, probably because his cry was full of love and nothing else. so you just sunk your hand into his hair, leaning you head on his, and you let him cry.
soon enough, he lifted his head, and looked at you.
“sorry,” he sniffled, “i don’t know why i did that. that was so embarrassing.”
you shook your head, and grabbed his wrist when he tried to get up.
“chris, talk to me my love.”
the pet name wasn’t even intentional, it just came out, but it seemed to make him just the tiniest bit happier, which made you smile.
“i don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
he said that with a breathy laugh, and you could tell he was dying to say something.
“yes you do, what’s up?”
he giggled, knowing you knew him too well, which also made his heart flutter, but also struck fear in him - he had to open up about it now.
with his eyes still tearing up, he spoke up and asked you a question this time.
“you know when i sent you that text last night before you went to bed?”
“mhm,” you were confused for a second, before you realized what he was about to bring up. and shit, you were worried, because you thought you had disgusted him to tears. “what about it?”
“the little heart at the end of your goodnight,” he continued, “that meant a lot to me-“
he cut himself off with a light sob and a smile, and you were confused.
“like, you’re my best friend, but i can’t take it anymore.”
this made you heart sink before he continued.
“i just think you’re like, i don’t know- i don’t want to ruin anything or your friendship with nick, and he would kill me if he knew this was happening right now, but i really, really, really like you…” he trailed off.
and as stated previously, he had always given you that confidence boost you needed when he was around you, but in that moment, you were going to cry, and so to hide that from him so he didn’t think he made you cry because you were upset along side the confidence you had - you just kissed him.
it was soft and short, but in the few seconds it lasted, he lifted his hand just to run his index finger on your cheek as a ‘thank you’.
when you pulled away, he smiled at you so softly and gently, and it made your heart flutter again, until you whispered a little praise.
“i love you, pretty boy.”
and another tear slipped from his eye before he held you hand in his lap and said, “like that?”
he made you laugh sometimes, how slow he was, but you loved it.
“yes chris,” you giggled, “like that.”
and he smiled wide, “okay. i don’t know if you’re ready to be in a relationship yet, but i’mma ask just in case; can i be your boyfriend?”
it was your turn to smile wide now, and you lifted your intertwined hands just to feel his skin on your warm cheek, and said “i’d be a goof to say no, chris.”
he was about to respond before you both heard someone clearing their throat, your heads turning to the direction of the sound to find nick in the doorway of his room.
he rolled his eyes, and spoke in a tired voice just to let out a ‘finally’, which made you both giggle.
“oh god, that giggle. i’m gonna have to hear it coming from the both of you now, as if one wasn’t enough.” nick laughed a little as he spoke, letting you guys know he was joking… kind of.
“happy for you guys, truly am, but i want to got to bed without hearing lovey confession outside my door, so please go to sleep.”
“sleep in my room?” chris asked. you nodded, grabbing your things from nick’s room, wishing him goodnight, and leaving to chris’s room, where he had left to get ready for bed, and where you met him soon after for a good sleep (and cuddle session).
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On My Mama Pt. 8 (Oh, how the mighty have fallen)
Tags: @mixedfandxms @shurislover @sweetalittleselfish-honey @desswright29 @cutttteeee @onyxstones-world @katymae12344 @doramilaj233 @sweetalittleselfish-honey @6-noir @khara876 @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @teadah18 @un-deniable-me3 @anayaperry @lppriceisright
-
“Oh, great!” Your mother scoffs, as she downs yet another glass of whiskey straight. She was in a self pity mood.
Nothing had went the way she’d planned. She had no intentions of arguing with you, let alone hitting you. Shed worked on what she’d say when she saw you and everything she’d planned disappeared the moment she’d seed that girl.
She couldn’t stand the girl. Hate was too strong a word for how she felt about that girl.
Why did she have to be there? Why was she your roommate ? Why was this happening ?
God, she thought she could do this but clearly she wasn’t ready. The thought of talking to you again was nauseating. She didn’t have the courage to speak to you and say what she’d planned on saying.
You were so determined to hate her. She didn’t know how to change that or fix it. And what she’d said and done was possibly the worst thing she could’ve ever done. She stooped so much lower than she ever could have.
“You need help.” Shuri says, shaking her head as she stared at your mother.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Your mother hisses, signaling the bartender to send another drink her way. She planned on getting so drunk she forgot about this horrid day even if it was only temporary.
“I shouldn’t be here. Y/n would kill me if she knew I was talking to you but…” Shuri shook her head. This was more important. She couldn’t keep holding this secret from you. You deserved better and she knew that.
“You know Y/n’s always had a thing for you.” Your mother chuckles as the bartender places another drink in front of her.
“It wasn’t shocking you found yourself attracted to her. She’s gorgeous.” Your mother continued as she knocked the drink back as if it were a shot.
“Y/m/n. Stop.” Shuri grinds her teeth. She knew she shouldn’t have come after her. She’d spent quite a few enjoyable hours tiring you out and slipped out the moment your eyes closed and your breathing returned to normal.
“It’s a compliment..” Your mother shrugged. It truly was. You were beautiful, always had been. You looked like the perfect mix of her and your father. The thought making her insides turn. She hated thinking about him.
He’d died so horribly. She felt robbed. She felt as though you were robbed. There was so much she’d planned to tell him before he died.
Guilt swallowed her whole being. She couldn’t face the fact that he was gone. She knew in her head that he was long gone. Dead. Buried. But for some reason she couldn’t let go of him. So here she was like she’d done for so long. Drinking.
She drank every day . Every night. She was constantly drinking day in and day out as if it were hydrating her. Instead she was only damaging herself, something she knew but ignored just to feel a temporary relief.
“You cried that night about wanting a better relationship with your daughter and have done absolutely nothing to make that a reality. You think drinking is fixing your problem?” Shuri’s eyes roamed over your mother’s messy clothing. She had always been so put together but right now she was covered in alcohol and white remnants of what she chose to ignore.
From the look of her messy hair, smudged lips and tear streaked face. It was obvious she’d been fucked by yet another stranger.
She pitied your mother. While she knew exactly where your mother was mentally and emotionally. She couldn’t completely empathize with her. She chose the way things played out. She was the reason her own daughter hated her. She was the reason her husband had died. She was the common denominator in all of the equation and yet there was no accountability or actions taken to improve.
It was like watching. A train wreck, it was truly horrific and sickening but yet she couldn’t walk away or look away. She knew there was nothing she could do to help your mother but yet she felt like she owed it to you to do so.
You lost your dad in part due to her actions whether accidental or not. There was no taking back the actions that let to his death and for that she felt absolutely guilty.
“I seem to recall you drinking like there was no tomorrow and smoking your problems away.” Your mother pointed out, scoffing at the judgment.
“Yeah well. I’m currently working on healing, because I want to be who my mother and brother would be proud of. I want to be who Y/n deserves. She’s had enough disappointment and hurt to last a lifetime.” Shuri corrected her.
“Y/n is incapable of letting anyone love her. She’s never been able to commit to anything or anyone. You won’t change that.” Your mother shakes her head. “I know my daughter. She’s full of so much love but she’ll never show it. I raised her that way because this world is cruel and life is unfair. You’ll never break her.”
“I wouldn’t want to.” Shuri responded. Clearly seeing where you got your issues from. You liked to act like you didn’t care about anything or anyone but she knew better. She picked up on how much you cared for people, despite trying to pretend you didn’t.
It’s why you were able to forgive Riri, even if you pretended that you hadn’t. She knew better. The same could be said for when you forgave her. You were a loving and sensitive woman but you refused to show people that side of you.
“You think Y/n will ever love you?” Your mother laughed, tears streaming down her face as she laughed.
“Y/n was right. You should leave.” Shuri declared, walking off. She hated how that statement made her feel. She was unsure of your feelings for her. She knew you liked Riri even if you acted as though you couldn’t stand her.
While you had forgiven her, your feelings towards her seemed unclear. Sex seemed to be the only thing holding you two together and that scared her. Something she’d spoken about with her therapist. She didn’t want to care about another person. She couldn’t deal with losing anyone else but the thought of you not caring for her like she did you frightened her like hell.
The rest of the night Shuri spent at the lab. She hadn’t worked on any research in a while and she had no urge to at the moment which was baffling to her. She’d been so stuck in a constant cycle of being locked in her lab, drinking, smoking and fucking random women.
She hadn’t had sex with Riri since the Bria debacle and she wasn’t so sure she’d go there again. It hurt like hell when she found out she’d been used to get to Riri. She didn’t love Bria, but she did feel close to her. She trusted her, she felt like she was a second to Riri in terms of someone to keep her grounded and who cared.
She couldn’t process her feelings of betrayal, hurt and anger when everything hit the fan. She’d always felt insecure and insignificant. While she’d been uplifted and loved/doted on by her family. Shuri never had true friends until Riri. Okoye, Aneka and Ayo were family. Just as Nakia and Challa were.
Then she’d been in private lessons her whole life, kept inside and monitored unlike T’Challa whom was free to roam all over Wakanda without question. While she was constantly out with family. She never really had friends to socialize with.
She was a huge Outsider social site fan because of her isolation. Which taught her how to be more social and helped her pick up things she otherwise wouldn’t have known about.
She’d met a few daughters and sons of the tribe but people tended to keep their distance respectfully. They viewed the royal family as ‘unapproachable’ not because they were but as a sign of respect. Something she absolutely detested.
Her parents were always so big on being contained in a safe bubble that she often felt suffocated. T’Challa was her best friend, when she’d lost him it felt like a part of her had died as well. He’d known all of her secrets, he was the first person she’d call whenever she needed him.
He was always there for her. He loved her and accepted her when she’d stated that she was interested in women. Even helped her to update her style to fit her, by taking her on several secretive shopping trips. She was a stem. She was both feminine and masculine. She could be girly or be boyish and both were very attractive to everyone.
Bria made her feel comfortable and safe. Seen. She was someone to talk to that didn’t push for her to change or ‘do better’ she simply accepted her where she was in her grieving process. Riri constantly pushed and tried to make her ‘heal’ and at times it really angered her because she wasn’t fully ready to let go of her feelings surrounding the loss of her family members.
She knew that if she let go of her anger, her sadness, her grief… It would mean they were really gone. That she could no longer pretend that things weren’t true. She’d have to accept that they would never come back and she hated to think of that. She wanted her family, needed them.
Riri couldn’t fully understand. She’d lost her father and best friend, but Shuri? Shuri had lost her entire family, her bloodline depended on her and Toussaint. Her children wouldn’t know their grandparents, their uncle firsthand. They would have secondhand memories and stories and that hurt.
She wanted them to know their grandfather , know what it was to be comforted and taught by him. To know their grandmother who was full of wisdom and love, who could turn the saddest and most difficult days into the best days of their lives. To know how loyal and supportive their uncle was. To be able to tell him all their secrets without fear of being judged or reprimanded.
So much would be missed, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d ever fill in those voids. Her family was completely gone, there was no replacing what she had lost. At times she thought about not having her own children at times as she had no mother to go through motherhood with.
She barely had the emotional support needed to give her children all they would need. She was one person.
Bria eased all those concerns and expectations by not making her think of anything but the current moment. She made her feel like she could finally breathe and that was everything to her.
-
The next morning you woke to see Shuri wasn’t there and her side of the bed was cold. You frowned, not liking the fact that she’d left without saying anything or leaving a note.
You shouldn’t have cared but you did. It was the little things that mattered to you. You needed people to care about you. You’d spent so long just having your father care about you.
As much as you warred with your feelings, you still felt good knowing that people cared. You felt lonely and as much as you hated to admit, you felt genuine care with both Shuri and Riri but in different ways.
You still held unresolved resentment towards Riri for what she’d done but it was hard to stay mad at her. You felt this closeness to her that you couldn’t explain.
Stretching, you climbed out of Shuri’s bed and made your way to the bathroom. You used her mouthwash and brushed your teeth with your second toothbrush stored in her bathroom. After washing and drying your face you peed, wiped, flushed and washed your hands.
Walking to the kitchen you smelt food and raised a brow as Riri gestured to the kitchen island with a nod of her head. She set a plate down with powdered sugar French toast, cut up mangos and a homemade mango syrup.
There was freshly squeezed orange juice with the leftover mango juice. She’d even placed cut up mango’s on the side in a small bowl. You smiled as she gave you a fork. The way you love mangoes this was a huge help in garnering your forgiveness.
It was your favorite fruit, top of the list. Any variation of mango from any country. Sweet, or green with some salt or Tajín. You absolutely loved mangoes, no question.
“What’s all this for ?” You asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.
“I figured you needed a pick me up after yesterday.” Riri shrugged, as she placed two pills by the glass of juice she set out for you.
“Thank you.” You grinned.
She went about the task of cleaning up after herself but you quickly got up and stopped her. She was not going to clean after she cooked. You believed in fairness, if someone cooked it was only fair the other person cleaned.
“I got it.” You assured her, pulling her by the hand to the kitchen island to eat. As you both sat down, you’d shared your breakfast with her.
It was delicious which wasn’t surprising, Riri knew how to cook and really good too.
As much as you wanted to pretend you didn’t like her, things like this made it hard. She was always being thoughtful, always feeding you when she knew you wouldn’t bother. You were an oatmeal or ready made shake kind of girl in the mornings out of convenience and laziness.
“I’m sorry about last night…” You mumble, feeling embarrassed and hurt at her rejection. It still was fresh on your mind.
It was hard to admit you liked her, so for her to reject you when you offered yourself up to her… it felt like a blow to the gut. Friends don’t look at friends that way… She could pretend all she wanted but you weren’t crazy. She wanted you. You thought, you weren’t fully certain and maybe it was wishful thinking but you needed her to want you.
“An apology, wow my food must really be good.” Riri joked, bumping your shoulder gently.
You said nothing and she quickly stopped laughing, and turned her body in the chair to face you.
“I’m sorry for everything I did.” Riri forces you to look her in the eyes, her hand on your chin. “It was despicable and downright cruel. There aren’t words adequate enough to describe how much I hate what I did to you. There’s no explanation I could give because nothing will change my actions or justify them. I was wrong and I am sorry.”
You swallowed. Not many people apologized to you, and you weren’t very big on apologizing either. You felt slightly uncomfortable at the feelings you felt for Riri. Her apology made your stomach have these weird feelings and that scared you.
“I’m sorry too.” You blurted out, the words feeling like vinegar on your tongue.
“You—“
You cut her off by kissing her. You weren’t entirely sure what made you do it but the moment your lips touched, you felt that feeling in your stomach intensify. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Her lips were soft and smooth.
Riri was frozen in place as you kissed her. She was shocked. She never saw it coming. This wasn’t a vindictive or sexual kiss. It wasn’t like any of the kisses you’d shared with Bria or Shuri. She’d seen enough of them to know. There was no tongue, no urgency to touch her.
You moved away from her lips and stared at her.
“I don’t want to be your friend.” You finally admitted the one thing you were fighting so hard to bury. Riri stared at you in confusion. “And you don’t want to be my friend either.”
It wasn’t clear to you why you felt the need to say that but the moment the words left your mouth, you felt better for some reason. You thought about that saying your dad always said ‘the truth shall set you free’ it felt like you were being honest with yourself for the first time in a long while.
“I like you Arianna. I don’t know why, God knows I have tried to fight it. But I can’t… it hurts me to be mad at you and I hate it. I should hate you, I’ve tried but I just can’t seem to no matter how hard I try.” Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. It was like you couldn’t stop talking.
Riri’s brows raised, she hadn’t expected that. If the kids threw her for a loop, your words were scrambling her brain right now. No one called her by her given name, not many people knew it but hearing you say it made her melt. She didn’t think she wanted you to call her anything else.
“I love you.” Riri blurted, her eyes locked on yours. How could she not? You were an amazing woman. You had so many great qualities, she knew you built up this mean, tough exterior to protect yourself. You were kind and loving, you cared about everyone. Even when people hurt you and you were being mean, you still cared for them.
She loved how blatant you were, even if the words were a bit harsh. You spoke your mind. You were so creative and innovative even though you hid your work and tried to act like it was nothing. There were so many things that made her fall for you.
It was what made her so determined to help you, to heal you. You had so much anger, resentment and unresolved feelings that were holding you back from being the woman she knew you could be. That you deserved to be. She wanted you to be capable of receiving love and genuine affection. Not just sexual affection.
The both of you were so caught up in each other, neither of you noticed the sound of the door opening. Shuri had been listening to your conversation for a while, she felt a pain like she’d never known. It was different than when Bria had used her.
She couldn’t form words. There was nothing she could say at the moment. She couldn’t disrespect you or Riri. She cared for you both, and had so much respect for each of you. She couldn’t even be angry. She just stood still, trying to process her thoughts and emotions.
“And here I thought I was fucked up…” Your mother said, breaking the moment. You looked up to see Shuri standing in the entry way. She had a look on her face that made your stomach turn.
You looked behind her to see your mother, she was a drunken mess. It was a shocking and pitiful experience to see her in such a way. She was normally always put together.
“Why are you here?” You leveled her with a cool stare. You weren’t in the mood for her or her bullshit.
“I wanted to talk about yesterday… but clearly this is more important.” Your mother shook her head. “You can’t fuck that girl.”
There was so much hatred in the way she said that girl. You were instantly on the defensive. Who was she to tell you what you could and couldn’t do? Was this another one of her truth talks where she admitted she fucked someone she shouldn’t have?
You instantly turned to face Riri, already starting to overthink. Riri’s eyes widened as she quickly realized where your mind was taking you. She shook her head. She would NEVER go there. It wasn’t shade towards Shuri because Shuri hadn’t known you or your ties to your mother but knowing you now… she could never do that. Nina was one thing, but your mother? Absolutely not.
“Why is this any of your business?” You turned back to your mother, relief evident in your face.
“She’s your sister.” Your mother said, her eyes full of guilt and resentment.
Shuri stared at the two of you in shock. What in the actual fresh hell was going on?
“What have you been drinking? It clearly needs to be taken off the market because you’re tweaking.” Riri stared at your mother incredulously. She clearly was not ok in the head.
“Y/n… I cheated on your dad with a man I loved more than I ever thought possible. I was in Chicago for a few months. He was my neighbor for the apartment I subleased. It wasn’t intentional, but I couldn’t stay away from him. He didn’t know I was with your dad. Your dad was focused on building his company and school. He barely had time for me, I felt alone. I didn’t plan it, it just happened. Then it grew into something more and I planned on divorcing your dad.” Your mother looked like she was going to be sick.
“Your father found out that I was married and he told me he never wanted to see me again. I wasn’t as known when we’d met but by the end of our relationship I was recognized all over. Our affair had been discovered and I was plastered all over the news papers and magazines. I remember the look on his face when he found out. He couldn’t even look at me. He moved in the middle of the night, I couldn’t find him. He quit working at the garage he worked at. Your dad… he was a forgiving man. He flew to Chicago and he told me he forgave me, that he was sorry for neglecting me and that he loved me. I was abandoned by the man I truly loved and I didn’t want to be alone so I chose to stay with your dad and go back home with him. I found out I was pregnant a month later.” The more she talked, the more your hatred for her grew.
“It made no sense to break your dad’s heart anymore than I had. While I wasn’t in love with him, I did love him. So I made him believe that you were his. Things were fine for a while until your first birthday. I saw your father, he was with a woman that’s the carbon copy of this girl and he was holding a little baby a few months younger than you. I later learned it was his girlfriend and I knew it would have been a mess to speak up so I made sure he didn’t see me or you and I left.” Your mother was crying and you couldn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for her.
“Every time I think you can’t stoop to a new low, you amaze me. You are complete garbage.” You wipe the tears that are leaking, and move past Shuri to shove your mother out of your apartment.
“What was his name?” Riri finds her voice again, feeling sick to her stomach.
“Mecca.” Your mother says, and Riri looks from her to you.
“Don’t ever talk to me again.” You say, with a heavy heart. Your mind felt like it was going to explode with all the information you’d learned.
-
Until next time 🫨
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gothic-chicanery · 20 days
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I just realized if I want to write about Oppenheimer for my final paper for my west class I probably have to rewatch it and it is So Damn Long. I’m also writing about it in comparison to a production I saw of Doctor atomic (the Oppenheimer opera (yes there’s an Oppenheimer opera)) but that will be a little bit easier bc I’m pretty sure no footage exists of that production so like at least I don’t have to rewatch that
#if curious the class is like. stories about the American west#and it’s fantastic.#one of the best I’ve ever taken#I was this close to writing about breaking bad for my final lowkey but I don’t have a Thesis#and I do have a Thesis here which is that Oppenheimer sucks#well. more. I want to look at how the movie Oppenheimer uses tropes of westerns#like. the single figure of an empty west reshaping the world#and the like the attraction of that as a story#and the thing is that it just like. is not fucking true#where they were resting wasn’t empty there were people within a couple of miles of where they tested#*testing#and they made a conscious decision to test anyway bc they decided that they couldn’t risk breaking secrecy#and that is NOT in the movie#and I think a lot of discourse I’ve seen about the movie about whether it glamourizes Oppenheimer or not#is kinda informed by that#bc my take on it is like I don’t think it’s depicting oppenheimer as a good person#but it is still depicting him as a story#like his guilt and experiences are very abstract and Greek tragedyesque promethean whatever whatever#it examines things in grand arcs and asks the question of to what degree he is complicit#but doesn’t show that conversation#doesn’t show anything beyond the very abstract#whereas the opera though it is hella stylized due to genre#when possible it draws from the historical record and uses the actual things people said#however it also recognizes that like there’s a lot that didn’t make it into the historical record and tries to fill those gaps#like. not perfect still and like while I think the opera did better there’s still much to be said for like. accessibility esp#anyway that’s the essay outline I was procrastinating it by posting but I think that’s basically the outline right there
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slvttyplum · 3 months
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being on onlyfans and suguru agreeing to help you make content.
he didn’t have a problem with it; you told him what you did, and he respected that. he loved what you did and let you do it.
he was your cameraman and even got you little trinkets to use in your videos. he was always the one behind the scenes, so he was surprised when you asked him to start being in the videos.
suguru didn’t even have time to think, and the first thing that came out of his mouth was "yes, of course,” and that’s how it started.
it started with you taking sexy pictures on top of this “anonymous man,” then it led to you sucking this anonymous man's dick, and then the anonymous man fucking you.
of course, you didn’t know how your audience would take this since you’ve always done solo work, but everyone loved it, especially the women who followed you.
they thought his body and moans were so attractive and wanted to see more, so your revenue that month skyrocketed.
not only were you having sex with your sexy boyfriend, but both of you were making money off of it.
the comments would be rolling with different things, like...
“this is so intimate... but rough and dirty.”
“need them…”
“the way he’s fucking them is making me wet.”
they loved the way your bodies moved in sync with each other, making it look intimate while suguru was slamming his hand down on your ass.
of course, there were people who still wanted you to do solo work, so suguru respected that and stepped back to record you most times.
you would pout and whine, telling him that you guys didn’t have to professionally set up a camera and he could just hold a camera and fuck you.
he was so scared that he was in the way of what you were doing, but you reassured him time and time again that you wanted this and wanted everyone to see him fuck you.
you’ve filmed occasionally with other people, but it didn’t hit off like filming with suguru; everything felt fabricated when it came to them.
when suguru was fucking you, he didn’t care about the cameras; he cared about your pleasure and how your body bucked and shivered from his touch.
he wanted you to have all the pleasure he could possibly give you; it made him feel good and special.
even when you were trying to give him his cut for the videos the both of you filmed together, he wouldn’t let you.
“stop, take it; it’s your account.” with a grin on his face, pulling you into his lap and giving you kisses.
the only thing he wanted from this was to make you happy, and if filming you or fucking you was going to do that, that’s what would happen.
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neo-nomatrix · 5 months
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
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word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
���That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
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“You gonna quit starin’? Or is it your plan to ogle at me all night.” Simon said, quirking a brow as he looked up at you from his laptop.
“Can’t I not look at my insanely attractive boyfriend?” You quipped, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Didn’t think it was a crime.”
“No, but it is a crime to distract me from my work.” Simon gave you a knowing look before looking back down to his work. “Give me just a bit, love. We can cuddle and watch a movie.”
You pushed out your bottom lip, effectively giving Simon the best puppy dog expression you possibly could. “I’ll simply die if I don’t get affection this very second.”
Simon glanced up once more, a coy smile lining his lips. “That so? Death by lack of affection?”
“It’s a relatively new affliction.” You murmured, moving closer to Simon. “But very deadly.”
“Well, we can’t have you dying on my watch, can we?” Simon asked, setting his laptop aside.
“Nope.” You gave your boyfriend a cheeky grin.
Simon chuckled, before patting his lap. “Then get that cute little ass over here.”
You quickly darted over to him, practically launching yourself into his lap before placing kisses across his face. “My savior.”
“Anything for you.” Simon smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Gotta make sure I take care of my girls affliction, don’t I?”
You let out an elated giggle as Simon began to pepper kisses along your exposed neck, his hands beginning to wander along the length of your body.
It didn’t take long for Simon’s work to be long forgotten- the only thing mattering to Simon that night was the love of his life, happy in his arms.
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fairyofshampgyu · 7 months
Text
Super shy !
genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack
Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader
Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,
word count: 2.9k
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As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.
Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!
Realistically, no.
But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.
And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.
“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.
With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.
“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”
You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.
You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-
“You’re such a virgin.”
His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.
“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.
"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.
So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”
“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.
Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"
"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.
“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.
Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"
"I’ll punch you right now."
"Then we'll both be fired~”
A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.
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Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.
You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”
“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .
“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.
And that was the end of soobin. The end.
-
You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.
And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.
“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”
“But-”
“I said no buts!”
“You know I hate clubbing.”
“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.
“So? I know I’ll hate it.”
“You’re such a hater bro.”
“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”
Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.
Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.
-
In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”
Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.
It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!
“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”
“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.
You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”
He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”
“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”
“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.
“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”
Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”
“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.
“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”
“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”
“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.
“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.
“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”
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Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?
You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.
You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”
He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.
“C-can you…can we…just want…”
“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.
“W-want you…”
“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.
He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.
“Are you sure?”
He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.
You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.
You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.
You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.
With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.
He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.
“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”
“Yes please! Only want you.”
You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.
When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.
“You good, baby?”
“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.
You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.
“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.
So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.
“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.
“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.
It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?
After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.
“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.
“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.
You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”
Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)
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A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭
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luveline · 9 days
Note
can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️
Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 
It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.
“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 
“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”
“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”
Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 
You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 
“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 
“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 
“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 
Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 
He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 
It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 
They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 
“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 
“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 
There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 
Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 
Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 
Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 
Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 
You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 
“The laughing.” 
“You laugh.” 
“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 
“How’s Haley?” you ask.
He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 
You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 
“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 
“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 
“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 
“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 
It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 
“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 
Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 
“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 
Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke. 
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iholdwhatican · 11 days
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reunions
pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig
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length: 3.8k
tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension
summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?
author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3
originally posted by iholdwhatican
You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 
You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 
So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?
Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 
He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 
And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 
You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 
The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 
Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 
The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 
God, what the hell was wrong with you? 
You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 
Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 
You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 
“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 
You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 
Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 
The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 
You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 
“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 
You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 
The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 
He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 
God, you needed a cigarette. 
You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 
Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 
You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 
He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 
The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 
Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 
The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 
You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 
“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 
You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 
“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 
Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 
“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 
You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 
“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 
“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 
“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 
Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 
You needed another drink. Or ten. 
“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 
“More than anything else in this world.” 
Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 
It made something flip in your stomach. 
“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 
You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 
“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 
You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 
Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 
You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 
“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.
The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 
“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 
The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 
You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 
His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 
You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 
“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 
You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 
“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 
You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 
“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 
Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 
“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 
“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 
You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 
“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 
The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 
The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 
The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 
You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 
“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 
You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 
“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 
He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 
Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 
You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 
But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 
You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 
You really, really fucking liked this. 
When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 
It was unbelievably hot. 
As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 
You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 
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Prettiest Witch at Hogwarts (Theodore Nott x fem!reader)
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Warnings: small italian!thoe, friends to lovers, comfort, angst, cussing, flirting, bad writing
a/n- this was not a request, but I did have a really good time writing it! I love this fic so much for no reason
word count- 847
“You, my dear, are the prettiest girl I have ever met,” Pansy said, dropping her voice an octave, reenacting what a boy had done to you today in an attempt to woo you. Her hand brushing your cheek the same way the boy had attempted to do makes you burst out in a loud laughter, causing the rest of the group to follow along.
“The poor bloke! Did he seriously think that would work?” Mattheo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye.
“I swear, I can never get a break! You four are the only boys that don’t chase after me!” You sigh, leaning back into the cushion of the couch, unbeknownst to you Pansy sends Theo a small smirk with raised eyebrows. Pansy was the only person that knew about your mild crush on Theodore Nott, your best friend. Pansy and Mattheo both knew that Theo has been in love with you for years. To everyone though, it was obvious that the lingering glances meant more than friends to the both of you.
The group decided to spend the rest of the night making fun of all of the boys that have tried to get with you since your growth spurt in 4th year.
“You’re gonna let me take you out to Hogsmeade, right?” Adriand Pucy, a boy you have rejected over and over since day one, asks you, leaning up against the exit of the Slytherin common room.
“Haven’t I told you no already today?” You reply, stopping and looking up at him with disgust present on your face.
“I know you don’t have a date, so why don’t you just give me a chance, let me take you out,” The boy says, pushing off of the wall in what was supposed to look attractive, ultimately failing in the end though.
“Who told you she doesn’t have a date? Come on bella, lets go,” Theo says, slinging his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him, engulfing you in the smell of his expensive-smelling cologne.
“Out of all the boys she could choose you really think she’d pick you? You wouldn’t even be on her top ten,” Pucy says, glaring at the taller boy.
“Merlin Pucy, have some self respect! If you ever thought you had a chance with me you certainly have less of one than before,” you say, giving him the dirtiest look you could possibly muster, and pulling Theo away from him and towards your dorm.
You knew Theo almost better than you knew yourself. Even though Theo was the most handsome boy in the school and had his fair share of women, you knew that the mean words Pucy had said would get to him atelast a little bit. He was a Slytherin, but deep down he was still the sensitive boy you’d known for years.
“Are you alright, Theo?” You ask, sitting on your bed and scooting over so he could have room.
“I should be the one asking you that,” He replied with a sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You know that Pucy is just an asshole right? You would definitely be in at least my top 3,” You say after a couple of seconds, attempting to lighten the mood and make him feel better. 
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” He says, looking at you with his sad blue eyes.
“Theo, I’m not lying,” You answer, scooting towards him to show your sincereness.
“Did one of them tell you?” He says, hurt filling his eyes and his body language rigid.
“Did who tell me what?” You ask, putting a hand on his back to comfort him, his posture relaxing a little.
Theo looks up at you, his eyes softening a little, “You’re so amazing,” He says softly after a couple of seconds of looking at you.
“Oh come on Theo,” You say, blushing slightly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“It’s true. You’re so beautiful,” He says, putting some hair behind your ear, and giving you a smile, showing you his beautifully crooked teeth.
“And you are a flirt. To think you’d never chase after me,” You say, giving him the same smile.
“Would I- um, would I really be in the top three guys?” He asks, looking at you with a serious expression.
“I would date you before I even gave another guy even a look,” You reply, giving him a soft look.
“Are you sure about that though? You know I’m kind of a mess up,” He says, looking away from you.
“It means more to me that you think that I’m amazing and beautiful. I don’t think I would even be able to explain to you how it makes me feel when you call me by your stupid Italian nicknames,” You reply, waiting for an answer. You don’t wait long and you don’t get a verbal response. Theo pulls you in and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. It’s not how he kisses girls at parties, it’s soft and full of love and adoration.
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sanjisblackasswife · 9 months
Text
Thinking about how OPLASanji is a more closeted pervert than an open one. (Part 1)
IHadTo.
Blk Fem Reader x OPLA Sanji
CW: Sanji has tattoos(🌚), Suggestive, Kissing, Touchy Touchy Sanji, ….please read his dialouge in his voice. No smut BUT next time will be filthy smut<_< just setting up the plot here okaayyy i havent wrote in a while.
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“So fucking pretty..”
“You say ‘sum Sanji?”
“Nothing, madam.”
Sanji was relentless. Him so new to the crew you and him managed to get pretty close quite quickly. It’s been a few weeks now and Zoro has pointed out about 15 times already how touchy and —in his words “Freaky” he is towards you.
“Either you’re that dense or just as perverted as him because how can you not feel his dick against your ass when you both are—“
“Zoro.” Nami cut him off with a stern tone, you blink at them both on the deck. “Enough, okay.”
“Somebody had to say it,” Zoro took a sip of his drink, settling back down on the chair, “It’s been constant dry foreplay from you both and it’s annoying—“
“…Sorry.” You murmur, not really sure how to answer to him, he looks at you, scoffing. “I don’t think sanji is intentionally being like that he just—“
“Well he is. A blind man can see how he fucks you with his eyes.”
Slightly confused as to why Zoro would even think Sanji is a pervert. He isn’t. He can’t be??
He’s so sweet, and charming, you can’t deny he was one of the few men you met that have caught your attention; his dimples exposing themselves when you make him smile, his pretty delicate hands that grabs ahold of yours when he kisses your knuckles, his pretty jewlery, and when he speaks in your ear, that fucking accent of his—-
…maybe him being a pervert wasn’t too bad.
I mean, he wasn’t hurting you nor ever made you uncomfortable? You both are adults.
And adults have needs.
And if two adults have attraction for one another then…well…it shouldn’t matter much?
You shook off what Zoro said and headed back to the kitchen, maybe he was just teasing you again.
But if he wasn’t…you could possibly make use of this new information.
——-
“Y/n, my love, how are you babe? Thirsty?” Sanji smiles at you, already preppping for dinner you grin warmly back at him and take a seat at the table, his eyes follow your figure, trailing down to your waist, and glued to your ass until you sat down.
For a moment you were quiet, not responding yet to his question, but admiring Sanji’s hands, how quickly he can chop food, how pretty his fingers are, you nearly nip at your lip when you notice him roll up his sleeves and see—-
“Oh!” Your eyes widen mindlessly, you walk towards the large kitchen island and lean over, “You have tattoos?”
How could have you not notice? it’s been almost a month being together and you never peeped? He had a half sleeve done and honestly it looked so..
“You like?” Sanji’s chuckle makes you break out of your daze. “I got my first one when i was 16. And then well, it became a slight addiction.”
You stare back at his forearm again, the pretty art marked on his skin, noticing the veins complimenting it made you nip at your lip again. He smiles, your pretty round eyes watching him as he cooked, but again.
Sanji’s eyes wondered.
You were in a trance at his tattoos, trying to count and see every detail of them you didn’t even notice your breast spilling out of your low cutted tank top onto the counter.
Your pretty brown chest, literally shining from a mixture of a bit of sweat and lotion you put on earlier with your small gold necklace dangling in between your clevage, Sanji tries to tear his eyes away, but he can’t help it.
You’re so fucking gorgeous. He seen you and Nami and he was already infactuated with you both, but you seemed to be more open to entertaining his flirtatious advances than Nami so he started to fall for you a bit more.
Hugging him at Arlong Park really got him going, your breast pressed against his, the way you kissed his cheek, and you were just so happy to see him he almost felt his pants get tight from that alone.
He wanted you bad it was almost admirable and pathetic.
“I have more tattoos. Y’know if you ever wanna see ‘em.” He teased, knowing damn well he was serious.
“Hmmmm.” You walk around the counter to face his side, finger tracing the rim of the counter top. “Well maybe….where are the others?”
“I have one on side, one on my shoulder, on my back—“
“Your back?” Your eyes lit up. “Can I see?”
Sanji started to stammer, “I— um… Really? You sure?…..okay just…give me a moment.”
You giggle at his urgency to clean up his mess, putting the roast in the oven he walks towards the kitchen door and locks it, his mind running a mile a minute he turns to face you to see you happliy sitting on the counter smiling, “C’mon lemme see! I love back tattoos!”
Sanji exhales, unbuttoning his shirt he feels your gaze, once his shirt is fallen to the ground he turns, you nearly gasped seeing the huge tattoo on his spine.
His very pretty spine.
“woah.” Sanji hears your footsteps approach him, he hisses slightly at your touch, you did always have a habit of touching when not asked. “It’s so pretty.”
Your hands start to move around the outline of the art, also noticing the small scars and bruises he has gotten in past fights. You lightly touch one, and he immediately turns around, causing you to jump, “Oh. Sorry.”
“No, it’s alright. You like them?”
“Mmhm…” you land your hand on his shoulder tattoo, not even taking note to how closer sanji approached you.
You both stare at each other for a moment, it was only 2 seconds but it felt like an eternity until Sanji decided to close the gap between you both.
His lips were so soft against yours you couldn’t hold in any moan you had released, you felt his hand cup your cheek, moving you backwards onto the counter, the kisses started to get more intense the more access you allowed him into your mouth.
Nothing but the sounds of water crashing, usopp and Luffy outside playing and heavy breathing filled the kitchen. Sanji just couldnt help himself—-
His mind was fuzzy, he knew in the back of his mind he shouldn’t have been so bold with his actions but to feel your body weight against his,
a slap or two was worth it, but it never came.
Sliding his tongue inside your mouth he pushes his leg in between yours, you really don’t know why you haven’t stopped him yet, maybe it’s the way he so easily picked you up by your ass and sat you on the counter, or maybe it’s how his hands are squeezing your breast, but you knew eventually you had to—-
“Okay!” You pulled off, both of you trying to catch your breath, “Wait…I….Sanji…”
He stared at you like a lost dog, damn near ready to get scolded with his pink puffy lips, you giggled. Holding his cheek, “I’m..sorry.”
You knew he shouldn’t have been sorry, he only did what you allowed him, and luckily he was a great kisser so it wasn’t anything you technically regret doing.
“Sorry for what?…I liked it.” You took his hand and teased, “Unexpected, but…I like it.”
You brush his hair back, going in for a slower and deeper kiss, your felt his cold palms rub the sides your your bare thighs, pulling you closer so you can throw your arms over his shoulder.
You nor him haven’t had this kind of touch from another person in a long time, and you both were clearly attracted to each other …so…why not bite the bullet?
“Let’s go to my room, Sanji…”
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after-witch · 3 months
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Check Out Time is Eleven [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Title: Check Out Time is 11 [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Synopsis: You're invited to a hotel for a warm meal and a place to sleep by a mysterious stranger. Soulmate AU.
Word count: 7100ish
notes: yandere, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, a really useless and non-philosophical reference to My Dinner with Andre
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The red thread on his finger loses slack for the very first time in his life, and for the smallest of moments, Chrollo Lucilfer forgets himself. His steps falter, expensive, stolen shoes nearly scuffing on the sidewalk, and a startled breath quivers through his chest. His mouth gapes, ever so slightly. 
In surprise.
In trepidation. 
In realization.
The red thread was, had always been, attached to you. His soulmate. Whoever you were. The gentle tugging of the thread meant that after years of fruitless searching, you were finally somewhere nearby, close enough to reach. Probably, given the tautness of the thread, even within walking distance. 
How lucky for him. 
How unfortunate for you. 
You were finally discovered. You were finally within his grasp, fingers itching, warm satisfaction blooming through his skin. How often had he ruminated over the fact that you had yet to belong to him? How often had he wondered what you would look like, how you would feel under his touch? And what you might do to him when he had you in person? Would he find himself changed, however slightly, as the others in the Troupe had been? Or would he mold you with his own presence, looming over you like a shadow?
The mere thought of you is enough to get his heart racing, bring a bead of sweat to his neck. It was so unlike him, and wasn’t that a thrill? 
And then, just like that, the moment is over. He recollects himself and his mouth closes and his mind whirs back into focused gear. 
He needed to find you, first thing. The rest of the logistics could come later. 
His eyes track the movements of the thread, and without missing a beat, he turns on his heels to follow the direction of the movement. It was possible--no, highly probable--that you were close enough to reach on foot. Within the city, certainly, and he didn’t mind the exercise. 
As he continues to walk, the cold gleam of the business district turning into rows of glitzy restaurants and downtown attractions, he’s glad that you weren’t too close. It gives him more time to think about what he wants to do with you. 
The Troupe members that had already found their soulmates--and Chrollo feels a surge of pride in his chest, counting himself among them now, fulfilled in that goal--had taken on different approaches. 
Some merely kidnapped their soulmates and kept them in secure locations. Simple, effective in terms of security, but that would ensure it would take him a long time to win you over. And he knows that he will do just that, eventually, no matter how he decides to keep you. Others took their time, attempting to strike up something of an ordinary relationship before revealing their knowledge of the red thread, and persuading their soul mates to come with them for safety (and romance)’s sake. Surely the more appealing of the two options, but it did come with the downside of expended time and energy. 
What he would do with you depended on so many factors. Did you live in some stationary location, or were you prone to travel? What did you do for a living? Were you already in a relationship, some inferior partnership with someone who could never appreciate you the way that he could, as your only soulmate? 
All of these questions circle heavily in his mind as he walks, following the thread that was becoming tighter and tighter between the pair of you. The ritzy downtown buildings were now gone, replaced by rows of old buildings that had seen better days. In place of fine dining were small cafes and diners that practically exuded grease, laundromats with blinking signs, and the occasional busted out window. The scores of people walking, gabbing, waving around fancy handbags were replaced by only the occasional person walking with clear destinations in mind, eyes in front. 
As the thread becomes even tighter, it leads him down an alley that most people would have surely avoided. But he doesn’t worry about the glances of the people leaning up against heavy exit doors, or the people crouching on the ground with needles against their arms. He thinks about you. Will he find you here, perhaps, curled up in the arms of a drug dealer pumping you full of toxic chemicals that flushed you with endorphins and heat? Or you might be on the other side of the needle, pocketing cash and going on your merry way? 
But, no. Perhaps not. Instead of leading him further into the den of seedy dealings, the thread brings him away, feet crunching on broken bottles, towards some type of fenced-in parking lot. Or it had been a parking lot, once
From a short distance through the metal fence, he can see burning barrels, tents, carts. The smells of cooking grills waft over, greasy foods, easy to cook outdoors. It wasn’t a new sight, in this city or otherwise. Chrollo had seen worse. Had lived worse.
And then, there--at the end of the red thread that weaved in between one of the fence’s metal honeycombs: you.
He sees you for the first time and knows, with a burning intensity that threatens to knock him over, that he needs you. He needs you now. He needs you always. You have something that he lacks and perhaps possessing you will give it to him. 
Is this what the others felt, when they first saw their soulmates? Or is it something unique to you and him? Some unfathomable bond that has shaken him to his core? Not for long, of course, never for long. He regains his senses within moments and catalogs the feeling away for later analysis. 
It’s you that he focuses on, now.  And the fact he will have you, as soon as he decides on the where, when, and how. He wouldn’t be the leader of the Phantom Troupe if he wasn’t skilled at taking what he wanted. 
Today what he wants is not a gallery of paintings or a rare gruesome artifact, but a person. 
You.
What to make of you? 
You’re standing in front of one of the burning barrels, rubbing your hands together. They look red and chapped, even from his vintage point. Behind you is a shopping cart filled with odds and ends. On the side nearest the fire, you had clearly laid out clothes over the edge of the cart--wet ones, from rain or maybe you’d had the opportunity to wash them. Your current ensemble is a simple hodgepodge. Clearly, you wore whatever was cleanest, whatever was warmest, whatever you could find. 
He remembers such a living. 
You appear to be on the outskirts, avoiding the groups scattered around the encampment. No one approaches you and you don’t approach them. A loner… by choice, or not? You wouldn’t be alone for long, if it wasn’t by choice, and in time you might be grateful for it. If it was by choice, well, there were ways to tame feral cats. 
It doesn’t take much analysis to decide what to do with you, to decide how best to approach things. He’s glad that he wore something casual today. Just some simple slacks and a nice sweater. If he was overdressed, it might be more difficult. Not that he couldn’t manage it, but he enjoys advantages when he can get them. 
With no hesitation, he walks through one of the ragged gaps in the metal fence and begins to approach you. 
Your head jerks towards him the moment that his steps become even remotely close. He doesn’t mind. It’s only natural, especially for someone who has been living the way you surely have. There’s a tugging somewhere inside him--memory of himself and connection with you.
He smiles, not broadly, but in a way meant to disarm. 
“Hello,” he says, stopping a few feet away from you. 
You stiffen. 
“I’m Chrollo,” he continues. His voice is undisturbed and calm. As if he was meeting you on a sunny afternoon in the park while you were both buying ice cream from the same cart. That might have been a more charming meeting, he muses, but this one can work to his advantage just as easily. “Won’t you tell me your name?”
You snatch your hands back from the barrel and step, refusing to turn your back to him, behind your cart.
“None of your business,” you say. 
And oh, he thinks, it would be heaven if he could somehow bottle the first time he hears your voice and listen to it on demand. But he supposes, he has the rest of his life--and yours--to hear you speak.
“That’s all right.”  He gestures towards you, the cart, your life. “I see you are in need.” You frown at him, but he continues. “How would you like to go somewhere warm?”
Your lip pulls back in a sneer and you move yourself on the other side of the cart.
“I don’t do that. Fuck off.”
Ah. You thought he wanted you to--well. It wouldn’t be the first time people took advantage of others in less fortunate situations. There had been enough of that in Meteor City. 
“No, nothing like that,” he says, voice going soft. “I should have clarified. I’m a… missionary of sorts. I look for people in need and offer what help I can give. I’d like to buy you a hotel room for the week.” He notices your wary expression. “Or even the day, if that would be more comfortable for you. Somewhere you can get some safe sleep, a shower, something to eat. I wouldn’t even be there.” 
He recognizes the look on your face all too well. Wariness. Suspicion. The face of someone who knows that people are tricky and greedy and cruel. That people will take things that they haven’t earned. Oh, yes-- he knows all of that so well, from both sides.
And he also knows how to get your guard to drop enough for him to accomplish his goal. Sure, mistrust is essential in an environment like this. But mistrust can always be overpowered when there’s something essential within reach. Like comfort. Or food. A warm place to stay, even if it’s just for a few hours. A private bathroom, a toilet, a tub.
“I don’t know,” you say, finally, having given him the appropriate stare down.
He nods his head.
“I understand. I would feel wary myself, in your position. It’s perfectly reasonable.” It is more than reasonable, he thinks, but you don’t need to know that. You just need to believe that coming with him will be worth your while, worth ignoring what he’s sure is a growing pit in your stomach. 
“What I would like to do is accompany you to a hotel where I often book rooms for those in need. It’s a private room, of course. And I will pay for your meals.” He sees the gears turning in your mind at the promise of a bed. The promise of food. “I have my own room in the hotel, but it’s on a different floor, and I won’t have to see you at all,” he adds, and this is how he will make you step over that cautionary line. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everything is pre-paid on my card, of course, and you’re free to order whatever you’d like. What do you say?”
He lets his words hang in the air, wafting like smoke from the nearby barrels. 
You wet your lips. You glance around at the people around you. A few of them have taken notice of Chrollo, perhaps as a mark, perhaps more; but he pays them no mind. He could kill them in a fraction of a second and whisk you out of here just as easily, if he needs to… But he hopes it will not come to that. 
“All right,” you say suddenly, softly. “If… you’re just going to give me a room and feed me, then all right.”
Chrollo smiles. It is, he thinks, perhaps close to a genuine one.
“Wonderful. Follow me, if you please.”
--
The hotel is expensive, but thankfully not terribly ostentatious. Chrollo would hate to put you off by throwing you into some gilded lion’s den. But the hotel is more reserved, classy. Comfort and luxury without any of the ridiculous trappings that often come with them. 
Chrollo does bring you with him to the front desk, if only to reduce the chances that the security will kick you out for looking out of place. And you do look out of place, but perhaps that’s for the better. It will make you appreciate what he’s going to do for you more, won’t it? 
You’re quiet all the while, but that’s to be expected. You only hold tight to your backpack, where everything you hold dear has been crammed, and let him do the talking. A reservation is easily made under the guise that only you are to know the room number--you certainly don’t need to know that he’ll swing back and reserve the connected room next door--and the key is given without fanfare from the polite desk clerk who gives you curious glances but nothing more. 
Chrollo walks you to the elevator, ever the gentleman, and hands you the key. You stare at it. The uncertain expression on your face is unbelievably precious, he thinks. He hopes he can see more of it before it inevitably morphs into shock and anger and fear. 
“Would you like some new clothing?” Chrollo asks, after he pushes the button on the elevator for you. “I can have some sent up from the hotel’s boutique. I’ll tell the front desk, so they can give the concierge the room number. Ah, and I’ll need to know your size, if you’re willing to give it.” 
“You want to buy me clothes?”
You almost splutter out the words, and he has to restrain himself from kissing you right then and there. You are terribly cute, and there’s a slight disturbing tinge to how much he finds everything about you enticing so quickly. The way you furrow your eyebrows at his question. The slight look of embarrassment, the twitch of your lips. 
He needs you so much, and he’s only known you for a few moments.
You tell him your size, then glance at him before staring at the glossy metallic doors. “Um, I need something warm. No useless stuff.” Your head gestures back towards the hotel lobby, where a few women are walking on the arm of male companions, dressed in sleeveless dresses and likely heading for the restaurant. 
“Of course.” Chrollo does not tell you that he can envision you wearing all sorts of useless things in the future his mind is creating, brick by brick. You would look heavenly in something strapless, something slinky. Something that hangs off your shoulders. He would drape a fine wrap over them, were you behaving enough to go out with him--no one else but him will be privy to such delicacies. 
For now, though, he resolves to send you the clothes he knows you want. Things will be a little more seamless if your guard isn’t entirely raised. 
The elevator doors open.
Chrollo steps aside, and gestures for you to enter. 
“This is where I take my leave. I will let the restaurant host know your name, and you can order whatever you’d like. It’s on my card. Please, don’t feel the need to hold back.”
You take a step inside the elevator and ah, there it is. Just the slightest hesitation. The slightest jerk of your head as you look back at him. Do you feel bad, leaving him in a lurch when he’s giving you charity? Do you feel beholden to him in some way?
“I guess it’s okay if we share a meal. You’re paying for it, anyway. It’d be awkward otherwise.” You stare down at the elevator carpet as you say the words, and Chrollo realizes that he’s perhaps misjudged the gesture. Your sense of shame, maybe, outweighs your desire to be rid of him and his potential alternative motives for assisting you.
That might come in handy.
He nods, as you turn around and make brief eye contact with him. 
“Well, then. How about we meet here in 5 hours for dinner? I can send something dressy to your room, if you’d like.” 
You shrug your shoulders as the doors close, which is as good as assent in his view. The string on his finger rises with the elevator, but now there is no fear that he’ll lose you. The string, something which had been maddening in its slackness for so long, is now something of a treasure itself. A little leash, keeping you to him, wherever you go.
Which, for now, is your hotel room--meaning he needs to get moving. He won’t pick anything too flashy out from the boutique; something modest, something simple. There are delicate steps to take to avoid making you feel ashamed without offending your sense of dignity all in one go.
Thankfully--for you and himself--he’s attuned to such needs. 
5 hours. That would give you enough time to take a shower or bath, to change into the fresh clothing he’ll send up, to take a nap. Perhaps you’ll stare out the hotel window at the view or curl up in the bed, rolling on the fresh sheets. 
Five hours would give you time to freshen up and relax, yes. And it would give him enough time to get hold of Shalnark and procure anything he needs to make your removal from the hotel as smooth as possible.
--
The shower is running again. He doesn’t blame you. He remembers days where a hot shower was a luxury beyond imagining. 
He keeps his side pressed against the door connecting your rooms--not that you know he is on the other side with a key to yours, of course--and holds back a contended sigh as he watches the red string on his finger twirl and shift with your every movement. 
What are you thinking about? He wonders. Are you thinking about how long it’s been since you had a hot shower? Are you thinking about slipping the shampoo bottles into your backpack?
Perhaps more inviting… are you thinking about him?
He knows what’s on his mind, and has been for the last few hours now. You. 
What were you like, deep down, underneath your layers and justifiably guarded stance? Maybe you liked to read, maybe you once had a dream of being a dancer before life went to hell, maybe you were shy, maybe you liked to get drunk and sing your favorite songs at full volume. 
What would  you be like, once you were fully his? 
What do you look like, underneath all of your clothing? What has nature and nurture shown fit to bestow upon you, your skin, all those secret places you keep hidden? 
The thread bobbles again. Are you stepping out of the shower soon, or still scrubbing yourself? You’re so vulnerable, naked and unawares, just a few feet away from him. The water running is a delicious sound to his ears, because he knows that you’re underneath it. 
He imagines what you might look like naked. He imagines what sounds you might make, underneath him, gasping and--
Oh, but he’s getting ahead of himself. He smiles and shakes his head at the rush. He should slow down, yes. Slow down and savor it all.
He clenches both of his hands. In one is the duplicate key, in the other is a syringe. Both go into opposite pockets, awaiting their respective time to shine.
--
The dress that arrives at your door with a prim knock from a porter is not quite what you expected--which is a relief. You expected the stranger to send up something ridiculous. Something slinky and glittering, maybe with only a half shoulder. 
But instead it’s a simple dress with a flared skirt, all made from dark blue fabric. The sleeves are elbow length, the neckline isn’t too low, and there’s a matching black belt to go with it. He’s even sent up a pair of nylons, which are something you haven’t worn since you were a little kid, desperately trying to mimic your mother’s fancy outfits. 
He also--and maybe this is overkill--sent up a few pairs of shoes in different sizes, along with a transcribed note instructing you to call the front desk if none of them fit, or simply wear your own shoes if you are uncomfortable with it. 
This stranger--Chrollo--is awfully accommodating. And kind. And considerate. 
Which is exactly why, when the dress is on and your nylon-clad feet are resting in the shoes easiest to run in, you tuck your switchblade into one of the dress pockets for safekeeping. 
Maybe he is just kind. Or he’s one of those people that makes themselves feel better by occasionally being charitable; he’s harboring some sort of guilt that can be alleviated, however temporarily, by buying a person a sandwich or two. 
But maybe he’s not. You’ve known people who have been hurt or killed or sometimes worse by so-called charitable people. People that lure you in with showers and hotels, meals and clothing. People that slit your throat before or after they have their way with you.
Life was dark and life was shit, and you weren’t born yesterday. If this stranger had any nefarious intentions, you certainly weren’t going to walk into them like a bleating lamb. 
And yet, and yet… some part of you wanted to believe he had good intentions. You’re not sure why, exactly. You weren’t the type to look on the bright side or always see the good in people--or at least,  you hadn’t been that way since childhood. Yet something about this Chrollo made you hope that he was a good person. That you’d have a nice conversation and he wouldn’t do anything more than give you a nice afternoon and a place to sleep comfortably for a bit. 
It was an almost primal feeling, which made it all the more stranger. Your gut feelings usually told you something like: this place is dangerous, this guy’s probably got a gun, that alley’s too notorious to use as a shortcut. 
Your gut didn’t give you silly notions, like wanting to trust someone, hoping they would talk to you during dinner, wondering if they’d be pleasant to be around for longer. 
--
At least, not before today.
“And the lady will have the cailles aux raisins.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Quail,” Chrollo says, allowing the waiter to take the leather-bound menu from his hands. As if your issue was with the choice of food--okay, you didn’t know what it meant, but still--and not that he ordered for you. “Stuffed with shallots, grapes, liver, and ah, I believe, some cognac, if I’m not mistaken.”
“That’s correct, sir,” the waiter says, not giving you a second glance--you didn’t even get a menu, which irked you, but considering you had nothing to pay with and perhaps the hotel staff knew it, it was a practical snub.
Your lips twist into a frown, although you suppose you can’t complain. The dish does sound good.  Not that you’ve ever had quail. But it can’t be that different from chicken. Or duck. You had duck, once, as a kid. Your mother brought you to a hotel just like this for a Mother’s Day brunch and you sat at a table with an embroidered cloth and wore a pair of your mother’s white gloves, so that you would look extra fancy.
“I apologize,” Chrollo tells you. “I should have asked your preference first.” The strangest part is how sincere he sounds, like he really didn’t want to offend you. Like he actually might be interested in what you want to eat. Part of you can appreciate that, and part of you wants to finger the handle of your knife inside your pocket.
“It’s fine.” You shrug it all off. Because you can, and you choose to--but also because you’re famished and the smells wafting from the other tables is enough to make your stomach growl. “People usually don’t order things like this for me, anyway. If they do give me anything.”
Chrollo tilts his head slightly, looking at you like a particularly interesting painting on a wall. “No?” 
You smile thinly. “Nope. I’m lucky if I get someone’s leftover fries from a fast food shop.” 
“What a shame.” He places both hands on the table, clasping his fingers together. His gaze bores into yours. You look away, briefly, but find yourself wanting to look back. How odd. “I’m sure,” he begins, talking slowly, measuring out his words, “that must be demoralizing--to be treated as lesser-than.”
You can’t help the snort that comes out your nose, or the quick words that follow. “Yeah? And what would you know about that?” Your eyes rake over his outfit, your mind whirls over how much money he’s spent on you alone, as if it was nothing. A drop in the bucket. Some rich man playing with his money. Or daddy’s money, depending on the circumstance.
Of course, you expect him to get offended. You expect him to call you ungrateful and cancel the order and ship you out of here like yesterday’s trash. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has gotten angry that you didn’t play into their savior fantasies. Your muscles even prep to stand, your face goes stony, ready to block the anger that he’ll throw your way.
Only... none of that happens.
His face looks--it’s hard to describe, really. It’s almost like it glitches for a moment, and you see something you weren’t meant to see. You’re not even sure if he realizes it. And then his expression gets so remote and so quiet. He looks away from you for perhaps the first time, looking instead, at his hands.
“I know a lot about that, actually.”
It’s not offense in his expression but… sympathy? No, that’s not it either. You know “sympathy face” like the back of your hand, for all the good it does you. 
It’s empathy. Trace, but there. A shared experience between you. Maybe that’s why you’ve felt inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt all day. Why you went with him in the first place, hunger pangs aside. 
“So you’ve been…” You begin, but is there a need to finish. He’s been homeless, or something like it. Downtrodden. On the bottom. 
He nods.
“Sorry.” The word comes out blurted but soft. Well, I’m an asshole, you think. 
He smiles at you, a soft, thin thing--almost like a gloss that covers up his previous expression. “No, don’t be. You had no way of knowing, dear.” 
Dear.
The word hangs between you silently, as if it’s being dangled on some sort of invisible string. He opens his mouth slightly--maybe to apologize--but shuts it when you don’t say anything. Instead, he simply blinks, and watches you.
Perhaps a minute ago you might have bristled at the nickname, might have sought to cut it right down, in fact. But for now, you brush it aside. He’s being nice--he knows what you’re going through. And sure, there’s some sort of guilt relief in his actions, but it’s not coming from the place of a rich man making himself feel better. It’s coming, you think, from a place of not just knowing where you’ve been but having been there himself. 
Before either of you can speak, the waiter returns with your appetizer and despite the guilt in your gut, your hunger practically sings at the sight of the plate of bread and butter. It’s fancy bread, already cut, gleaming with what smells like garlic butter spread over the top. 
The flavored butter is shaped like a rose and it’s only after you childishly dip your bread right into it and take a loud, chewy bite of the delicious goodness that you realize you’ve committed a faux-pas. There’s a tiny butter knife on the plate, obviously meant to delicately smear the butter onto your bread. And here you are, gnawing on the piece like some sort of medieval peasant during a bad harvest. 
A pang of shame tingles over you. It’s a silly kind of shame--inconsequential, really. Who cares how you eat bread at some hotel you’ll never step foot in again in your life? But it lingers terribly. Until Chrollo picks up a piece of brand and dips it right into the butter, too, taking a chewy bite with far less graciousness than you imagined with his sophisticated appearance.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” He asks, not even bothering to cover his mouth.
You smile. You almost-snort. And the shame dissipates like ice crystals on a sunny day, as you and Chrollo both finish off the appetizer. He lets you eat more without saying a word, which you appreciate.
There’s a lot to appreciate about him, really. He’s been kind. He hasn’t been terribly condescending, dinner order notwithstanding. And he seems to know how to approach you with actual empathy and not just the sticky, coddling sympathy that most people do.
And you won’t lie--he is nice to look at. He even smells nice, but with the amount of money he had to spend on the clothing he sent up to your room, he can likely afford to buy expensive cologne.
If he notices you staring, he says nothing. Instead, he half-closes his eyes and appears to be deep in thought. Over… you? Or dinner? 
He hums a bit under his breath, and you realize: it’s the music. It’s a delicate song being played by a small group of musicians set up on a stage in the corner. It’s familiar… your brain strives to catch up with your ears. 
“You like this song?” You ask, because the silence has stretched too long, and the bread is now gone.
Chrollo opens his eyes and regards you with a sober smile. “Yes.” He pauses, then. “It’s--”
“Elgar's Chanson de matin,” you blurt, before he can. “I know it.”
His eyes widen, just a tad. Enough to show that he’s curious. A funny bit of pride thrums through you. It can be retribution for the quail earlier, you decide.
“You’re familiar with his work?”
You feel your cheeks heat up, even though you don’t get the sense that he asked to be cruel. He seems actually interested. Like he wants to know you. It’s nice, and confusing, and a little startling. 
You nod, wishing there was more bread to break up the conversation. “What, you think someone like me can’t be interested in classical music?
“Of course not.” He answers swiftly, resolutely.
 He reaches his hand towards yours and grasps it before you can think to pull away. It seems silly to yank your hand out of his, so you don’t. Even if the way he looks down at your interlocked fingers makes goosebumps dance up your arm. 
His expression is so strange. He looks… lonely. And desperate. And relieved. But why? 
Both of your gazes meet for one electric moment and for that moment, you feel like he sees you. And you see him. Not as clearly. But you see something inside him that is not quite on the surface. Something which does make you pull away, but not with distaste. You withdraw your hand from his slowly, like he’s a wild animal that you don’t want to startle.
The waiter, impeccable timing as ever, arrives with the main courses just as your hand makes its way into your lap. 
And just like that, the spell is broken. Ripples of water dash whatever it was between you, and he’s speaking charmingly to the waiter, who appears swiftly again with a glass of champagne for each of you. You weren’t intending to drink, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt. It could calm your nerves.
Neither of you talk much for the rest of dinner. It’s not tense, exactly, but you can tell there’s something in the air. Questions unspoken, maybe, or just an awkwardness between two strangers who seem to both understand and misunderstand each other in equal measure.
The hotel’s restaurant begins to thin out after your main courses are taken away. A dessert menu is brought, and Chrollo orders a simple slice of cake for both of you. 
Real vanilla bean frosting is on your lips when you ask your question. Quiet, but with most of the other guests gone, he has no trouble hearing it.
“So you were… homeless, before?”
You’re not sure why you need to know this. To confirm that he’s not some rich boy playing with his father’s money? To see how much he can really understand you? Maybe the champagne went to your head. You don’t normally drink, it wouldn’t be impossible.
His fork stalls as the question comes out. He glances up at you and there’s nothing offended or hurt in his eyes. He seems to weigh his answer before he gives it. It doesn’t really surprise you; he could be just as mistrustful of you as you are of him, couldn’t he?
“Something like that.” He rests his fork on his plate. “I suppose you are trying to decide just how much I can sympathize with your… situation.”
Heat floods your cheeks, and you’re grateful the water brought another glass of champagne that you can sip from to loosen the tightness in your chest.
If he notices your flushed countenance, he doesn’t remark on it. You like him better for it. He continues speaking, looking at you with a measured expression. Like before, his words come slowly and carefully, given to you with something akin to grace.
“Our situations were not exactly similar. I don’t find it terribly useful to compare them. Better in some ways, worse in others. Like anything.”
“Better?” You dab at your mouth with a napkin. 
“Ah.” He seems to weigh his next words with even more scrutiny before he decides on them. “I had something you didn’t, which surely benefited me.”
“Which was?”
There’s something wistful in his voice now. It makes you lean forward over the table. With most of the other guests gone, it feels strange to talk so openly about clearly delicate matters. Chrollo mimics your lean, and while he doesn’t take your hands across the table into his, you get the feeling he’d like to, if you let him.
“Companionship,” he says simply. The word settles in the air like a brick that seems to land right on your chest. You blink and feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes. You really did have too much champagne, and this is all getting to be a lot. You start to lean backward when he speaks again.
“Aren’t you lonely?”
“No,” you lie. The shock of the question does make you lean back fully. Then, to be spiteful. “Are you?”
He doesn’t answer. He only looks down at his hands and the empty spot where yours used to be, and then back at you. 
Nothing more is said on the matter. He pays for the meal and leaves a nice fat tip for the waiter--who has, you think, been lurking nearby either to witness your drama or to make sure no one swipes his tip from the table--before escorting you back to the elevators.
Shame slams back into you while you’re standing in front of the elevator doors.
“I’m sorry.” Sure, he asked it first, but fuck--you hate being rude. If you were rude. It was hard to tell how Chrollo felt about anything. The champagne making your head fuzzy doesn’t help. Not at all.  
He tilts his head a little. “What for?”
Your eyebrows furrow together. “You know, for asking… for being…” You wave your hands around a little. It’s too hard to put into words. You’re tired, you feel out of sorts, and you’re tipsy bordering on drunk. You can give yourself some forgiveness in a lack of coherency in this matter, at least.
Chrollo regards you for a moment before he shakes his head, scoffing a little as he smiles.
“For being yourself? Or at least showing some small part of it to me? I don’t mind.” He holds out his arm and you, unsteady champagne fuzz in your head, take it. “I’ll escort you to your room, if that’s all right. I don’t feel comfortable letting you go there alone.”
You should tell him that you’ll be fine. You should. But the champagne in your brain and the way you feel drawn to him--however slightly--makes “should” fly out the window. So you nod and let him lead you into the elevator, where the ride up makes you dizzy enough that Chrollo has to steady you carefully, and you mumble out another apology. 
He only chuckles a little and helps you walk out of the elevator without stumbling over the threshold. Your room is just down the hall and he keeps a steady grip on you the whole way, even though you’ve told yourself that you won’t stumble anymore. It feels weird, to have someone so close to you; to smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin.
It feels weird, yes, but giddy too. He is handsome. And he did buy you dinner. And clothes. And he’s not as shitty as you thought he might be at first. The way he ate the bread in solidarity with you earlier--you can’t forget that, can you? It was… cute, even. If someone like Chrollo could be called cute.
Is it the champagne, the newness of this stranger-but-not-entirely, the rich disarmament that comes with a full stomach and freshly washed face? All of the above? Whatever it is, it’s got you thinking too much about Chrollo as he gently takes the key from your hand and opens your hotel room door.
A gentleman, he only sees you just inside before taking his leave, promising to meet you for breakfast in the morning--if you’d like.
You would like, you tell him, and the door shuts and locks swiftly afterwards. Chrollo’s cologne lingers in the air, or maybe it rubbed off on you from all the steadying he had to do. 
The hotel room is just as you left it. Clean and pristine, smelling vaguely of lemon. Your duffel bags and personal belongings are shoved in the corner. Maybe you’ll try to read one of your books tonight, before you sleep? It would be the first time you read on an actual bed in ages. Maybe you could even call for room service? A little midnight snack? It’s not like Chrollo would mind, or at least, he probably wouldn’t. It’d be something small anyway, nothing wild. 
Unless you wanted a bubbly nightcap. 
Full of ideas, you take your giddy champagne self back to the bathroom to change into pajamas that he sent up earlier, humming Elgar’s Chanson, thinking about bread and quail and… Chrollo. The knife in your dress pocket gets left on the bathroom counter. It was silly to bring it, now that you think about it. 
Still humming, you flop on the bed and grab the menu for room service. It wouldn’t hurt to order some extra dessert. And another glass of champagne. Maybe two… 
You’re so out of sorts that at no point for the rest of the night, before your weary head hits the soft pillow, do you stop to wonder how Chrollo knew your room number.
--
There are few things Chrollo truly regrets in his life. One of them, he knows, will be that he couldn’t plant himself in this town for a few months in order to properly court you; to introduce you, gradually, to the concept of nen. To the knowledge that you were his soul mate.
But it can’t be helped. He has to leave tomorrow night, come hell or high water. And he certainly won’t let you drown here a moment longer. It’s for your sake. You’ll come to realize that eventually, just as you will--in time--come to forgive him for what he must do.
You’ll no doubt regret letting down your barriers in the morning. But if you hadn’t been so keen to trust in someone, to trust in him, then he wouldn’t have gotten to see something of the real you underneath all of that built-up survival instinct. And didn’t you see something of him, too? He thinks you did. Just a moment, a spark, but it was there. 
You sweet thing. He could hear you humming through the door earlier; heard you order room service (champagne and desserts) and he regretted not having Shalnark swoop in during dinner to set up some security cameras. 
The key to your room feels heavy in his hand. On this side, he is simply himself, staring ahead as the red thread of his soulmate leads away from him. But once he turns it into the lock and quietly opens the door, there will be nothing between you but sleep.
He opens the door and relishes in the way the thread sags even further downward. If only you could have seen how beautiful the thread looked during dinner, all tangled up as he clasped your hand in his. That’s how the thread was meant to look. Not tight and taut and unforgiving.
You’re fast asleep when he silently enters the room and unlocks the deadbolt so that Shalnark can help him remove you from the premises. Curled up underneath the covers, you look like you’re in bliss. It’s likely the first restful sleep you’ve had in a long time. Months? Years? 
How awful for you, to wake up tomorrow and realize that you’re no longer in the hotel bed. And that he’s the one to blame for it. How awful for him, too, to lose his grasp on the tentatively pleasant and revealing evening you had together. But he doesn’t think you’ll be empathetic on that matter. Not for a while, anyway.
He sits down on the bed next to you and it takes a considerable amount of self-control not to curl up against you. It’s not worth the risk of you waking, although the tranquilizer in his pocket could be jabbed into your thigh early, if need be. 
Besides… you’ll have a lifetime of nights together after this. 
There’s no need to rush what is finally his to keep forever. 
1K notes · View notes
becomingmina · 3 months
Note
thanks for the clarification ♡
so here is the thought I had
hyunjin and reader being each other's crush but absolutely idiotic about it so they don't know the other's feelings
they have common friends that are sick of the tension between the two. one decides to tell hyunjin, the other suggests the reader to do something to make hyunjin jealous so she can find out if he likes her. (boring I know)
one time when everyone's around, she flirts with jisung or something idk and she gets too touchy so hyunjin is annoyed af. pulls her away to somewhere private and voila, they've confessed in the best way possible 😌🌸
CRUSH. anon request w/ HYUNJIN.
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18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: hyunjin x female reader genre + warnings: friends to lovers, smut mdni!, oral (both f & m receiving), hyunjin calls reader kitten, semi-public wc: 5.4k mina's note: Anon also wanted to throw ‘kitten’ in it (my fav pet name 👀) Also I really enjoyed writing this & love how much details you put on the request!! My box is open for feedback 💓
other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.
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You don’t know how you got in this situation but here you are; staring at your friend who is currently playing basketball, topless. Well, you’re more like drooling over him.
He just looked so good, so hot. His tall, lean, milky body just running around on the court covered in a thin layer of sweat. Normally you hate the thought of sweat, but it works for him. It works well for Hwang Hyunjin, actually. He even looks like he smells nice too. You watch as he laughs at the other players, hogging the ball like the main character in some high school drama. Your eyes waver from his pretty smile to his muscular arms to his piercing, which is sitting so perfectly under his eyebrow, then to his burgundy hair.
You pay attention the beads of sweat that trickles from his hair to his chest, dripping down his body. You gulped when you see them land on the area just underneath his belly button. You completely loss your sanity as your eyes covered that area. His treasure trail? Happy trail? Whatever people called it. Why was it so sexy on Hyunjin?
You quickly look away before anyone catches you; you shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Hyunjin is your friend.
When you meet him two years ago in your first year of college, he was just some guy in class you become friends with. He is good looking, but you didn’t find him attractive. There was no chemistry, no tension, no feelings. You don’t know how it started but you find yourself thinking about him every other hour of the day now. You would freeze when someone else mentions his name, blush when he was in close proximity of you and even stutter when he speaks to you.
“Hey.. Hey Y/N,” a voice snapping you out of your thoughts, followed by a nudge on your shoulder.
“Hm?” You answered, unaware of who was even calling out to you. You turn your head and there he was, your crush Hwang Hyunjin crouching down next to you, smiling at your blank reaction. You’re used to him towering over you since he was way taller than you but to have him crouched down like this looking at you makes you feel a bit.. timid.
“I’m going to borrow this,” he says dangling your fresh hand towel in-front of you. Oh yeah, the hand towel you carry around in your bag just in case your physical education professor makes you participate in class. The one you won’t let anyone use or even touch.
When they say having a crush makes you do crazy stuff, they do mean it. You were quick to lean him it.
“Huh.. uhh yeah, sure,” you answered, eyes travelling from your towel to his face again.
When you realised you’ve been staring at him longer than you should have, you cough and drop eye contact, making Hyunjin gulped a little bit too loud. “I don’t need it anyways you can keep—”
“—I’ll return it,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wash it first of-course.” You nod your head quietly as you gather up your belongings, getting ready to go to your next class.
“Come on Hyunjin, we are going to be late for class!” Chan, the oldest out of the friend group, calls out to him.
“So.. I’ll see you at lunch then?” Hyunjin says after noticing your quietness.
“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch,” you mumbled, shooting him a quick glance.
“Bye bro,” Hyunjin says to Minho, giving him a handshake before collecting his bag and going off with Chan.
Minho chuckles at the scene that just unfolded in-front of him; two of his best friends obviously crushing on one another but no one is making a move. Well, it’s not really you and Hyunjin’s fault since you guys don’t know about the other person’s feelings.
“You know he likes you right?” Minho blurted out and you turn your head to his direction.
“Who?” You answered nervously. Did Minho just witness everything?
“Hyunjin,” Minho replies with raised eyebrows, his smug a little bit too cocky for your liking today. You rolled your eyes at him but underneath your skin, you are hot, flustered, embarrassed.
“No way!” you denied. Hyunjin could never like you, he only saw you as a friend.
“He does—”
You scoffed a little bit too fast.
“Do you not see the way he looks at you Y/N?” You can’t tell if Minho was being serious or not.
Minho does have a history of being a joker which makes you think he’s just pranking you. But he also is a very honest friend, he would never joke around with stuff that could potentially hurt you.
“Uhhhh—” you hesitantly reply.
Minho takes in a loud breath, “—I don’t know if you’re genuinely dense or you just don’t want to admit it.”
“He doesn’t like me,” you answered.
“He does,” Minho turns his head behind to look at Hyunjin and you followed. You watch as the two made their way across the field, Chan wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulder trying to snatch your towel away from him.
“Oh, you don’t want to give it to me because that’s your girl’s towel?” Chan laughs, basically choking Hyunjin at this point.
“She’s.. she’s not.. my girl..” Hyunjin softly replies in a cough, not sure if he was actually being choked by Chan’s big arms or by choking up at you being called his girl.
“She’s not your girl.. yet?” The older boy teased.
“What do you mean?” Hyunjin questioned, hoping Chan didn’t see through him.
Chan looked back at you and Minho who was still sitting by the basketball court. You swiftly turn back to Minho, hoping Chan didn’t catch you starring at Hyunjin.
“Trust me,” Minho said with his smug face, raising his brow to the older boy across the field. “You know how to tell if he likes you?”
You stay quiet. You were curious but didn’t want to seem like it, so you just raised your eyebrow. Tell me, tell me Lee Minho!
“Make him jealous,” Minho says lifting his chin to Jisung who was currently surrounded by a group of girls shoving their gym towel into his face.
You know what Minho was referring to; that’s how Felix ended up with Nayeon. Minho suggested to Nayeon to make Felix jealous by sitting next to Jisung at some dinner since he was such a girl magnet. Next thing you know she was pulled away from the table by Felix and they have been together ever since.
You scoffed. It sure worked for them, but you weren’t going to use Jisung like that; he was your friend.
“I’m not going to use Han-Ji like that,” you replied.
“Okay look..” he blinks a little too hard at you. “Just use Han-Ji.. He is also as tired as we all are of you and Hyunjin’s….” He pauses. “..tension..”
“Who is we?” You asked confused.
Who else has been noticing your little crush on Hyunjin? Is what you really wanted to ask your best friend, but you don’t.
“..And there’s no tension between me and Hyunjin.. I don’t know what you talking about,” deny deny deny.
“Everyone in the friend group can feel the tension, you idiot,” the nickname causing you to pout. “Felix, Bin, Min, Lia—”
“—Hyunjin doesn’t like me.”
“Bet?” He was too quick with this. “I’ll let you have bragging rights if he doesn’t like you. But I get the bragging rights if he does,” he suggested.
“Huh, what?” Both of them sound bad to you. Why would you be happy with bragging rights if Hyunjin doesn’t like you back? It would sting you! And if by chance Hyunjin likes you back, you would hate to deal with Minho’s telling the whole campus he was cupid. What the hell was Minho on?
“What?” He laughed after noticing your face, full of displeasure. “I mean, the worst that could happen is he doesn’t like you back.. But then that means you get bragging rights?” Minho laughs tilting his head to the side. He can read you well.
“Dude you’re insufferable!” You rolled your eyes. He was still looking at you with his smirk.. Oh wait. “What do you mean like me back? I don’t like him,” you denied, it but wasn’t fast enough, he had caught you.
“Sure.. I know everything. Come on, trust me. I’m your best friend,” Minho nudges your shoulders. “Remember the party this weekend? How you rather sit at home and do nothing. Well maybe you should just come. We haven’t seen you out in a while.. Come, and be prettier than this..” he says looking down at your gym wear. You were in baggy sweat shorts and an even baggier t-shirt. “And I’ll help you get with him-”
“—Hey!” you shove his shoulder back. “What’s wrong with me now?!” You look down at your attire. It was gym class anyways of course you would be in this, even if you don’t participate.
“What? Nothing,” he answers playfully. “Come on, we going to be late to our next class!” Minho gets up before opening up his hand to help you up.  “Han-ji, we’re late!”
It was lunch time and you and Han-Ji ditched Minho to go down to the college’s local bakery to get some lunch.
“You’re totally not coming to the party?” Minho asked Hyunjin who was sat at the lunch table, eating his huge burrito. Seungmin, Felix and Chan were also there chiming into the conversation.
“Who’s going?” Hyunjin asked, a mouth full.
“Just the usual.. us. So, Chris, Bin, Jeongin, Yeji.. and then half of the third years are invited,” Hyunjin doesn’t look too interested. Don’t get the wrong idea, he loves his friends and parties, but he had also seen them every single day on campus, so he had no fear of missing out.
“…oh and Y/N says she’s going to come too,” Minho blurted, playing full attention to his friends reaction.
Hyunjin’s ears perks up at your name, his cheeks suddenly growing pink as he looks back at Minho.
“Actually.. I’ll come. Haven’t been had fun in a while,” Hyunjin drops the eye contact when he notices Minho’s sneer. “You want me to bring anything?” Hyunjin continues a little twitchy, playing with his food.
Minho just laughs. This was getting too exciting for him. “Bring your courage!” The rest of the boys laughed.
“What?” Hyunjin asked, narrowing his eyes at the crowd.
“You like Y/N, don’t you?” Seungmin exclaimed catching Hyunjin by surprised.
“Umm...” Hyunjin freezes. He doesn’t know how to answer. Of course, he likes you, but he didn’t want to admit knowing the boys were definitely going to tease him even more for it. But he didn’t want to say no just in case they spin it around to say he doesn’t like you at all as a friend.  
“Don’t worry bro, she likes you too,” Minho break the silence. Hyunjin’s heart stop at his best friend’s words. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that.
“Really? She likes me back?” Hyunjin replies promptly, a sheer smile pulling on his face. He was definitely blushing.  
“Back.. So you do like her?” Chan torments Hyunjin again and Hyunjin’s smile slowly faded form his face. They had caught him too.   
“Hey Y/N!” Felix calls out and the rest of the boys look over Hyunjin’s shoulder. He wanted to spin back to check but he didn’t want the boys to play more into his eagerness, so he just freezes looking straight at them.
“Hi Lix!” Your voice calls from behind him.
“Come here! Hurry!” Felix continues to make conversation with you.
“Bro just ask her out already, we’re all tired of the tension,” Chan quickly expresses.
“What tension?” Hyunjin was desperate to see what they had to say before you got to the table.
“Sexual tension,” Seungmin whispers and everyone goes silence, pressing their lips trying to hold back their smile.
“There’s no tension between me and—”
“—Okay you say there’s so tension? I guess Han-Ji can make his move then,” Minho interrupted, surprising Hyunjin again.
“Does Han-Ji likes Y/N—"
“—Shh she’s behind you,” Chan shushes the younger boy up before he could finish his sentence.
“Hey..” Hyunjin says timidly before you could even sit down.
“Hey..” you replied back, climbing over the bench so you can sit next to him. The whole group watches as Hyunjin blushed at your proximity. “Sit here,” you pat the area on the other side of you for Jisung to sit.
“Coffee and pastries for lunch? That place is like a 10 minute walk,” Chan askes from across the table.
“It’s okay, Han-ji keeps me company,” you say as you nudge Jisung a little bit and you both open up your pastry bag.
Hyunjin glances at you from aside, he stays quiet.
Hyunjin doesn’t know how to feel. He didn’t expect his boys to catch on about his feelings for you and he didn’t expect Minho to blurt out that you like him back. Hyunjin is also confused after seeing how close Han-Ji is to you too, he never really questions your close relationship until now. Does Han-Ji actually like you? Thoughts flood his brain as he continues to eat his burrito.  
You rushed home from your last Friday class to get ready for the party. You threw on one of your mini sun dress, pairing it up with some sandals and a cross body bag before collecting your black cardigan and rushing out to Yeji who was ready in the living room waiting to do some pre-party shots with you.
You and Yeji tipsy-ly made it to the loudest house on the street. Lee Minho’s residency. It was only 8pm and it was already crowded. She held your hand and clumsy pulls you through dim-lit hallways packed with people before reaching the living room. There they were, all of your friends in the living room with a drink in their hand, conversing with one another.  
“There they are!” Seungmin yells as he sees you and his girlfriend. He quickly makes his way to rip Yeji off you, pulling her into the kitchen to get a drink.
“Wow, my best friend finally came to one of my parties!” Minho appears out of no where handing you a beer.
“I was here two months ago Min..” You playfully rolled your eyes. “When you and Nayeon vomited everywhere and me and Felix had to bathe you guys.. naked,” you refreshed his memory.
“I remember.. Crazy night..” Minho laughs. He stops to look you up and down before grabbing your shoulders. “Very pretty Y/N. You planning to make someone jealous?” He complimented before getting back to his little mischiefs.
“Maybe,” you answered looking around the room. You hadn’t seen Hyunjin yet and Minho notices.
“Your boy is hella tipsy by the way, he keeps telling me he’s nervous but won’t tell me why,” Minho informs you.
“He’s not my boy.”
“Sure.. okay, anyways so not your boy is currently staring at you from behind,” Minho also announced as he stares at Hyunjin from over your shoulder.
Hyunjin’s heart stops at your presence. He has always found you pretty but tonight, he found you extremely gorgeous. Maybe because tonight was the night, he was going to let you know about his feelings. He takes another sip of his drink, pondering how he’s going to pull you away. He wanted to find the perfect timing, he didn’t want to do it too early just in case you reject him, and he has to go home early.
He watches you as you make your way to Jisung who was currently sat on the tiniest fucking armchair he had ever seen.
“Han-Ji!” You were going to follow Minho’s instructions; you either leave tonight with Hyunjin or rejected by Hyunjin but with bragging rights.
“Hey Y/N, you look like you had a couple of drinks already,” Jisung says as he touches his owns cheeks to indicate where your pink complexion was. You nodded bashfully to your friend before getting up on the arm of the chair to sit.
“It’s wet there, I just spilled my drink there. Come here,” Jisung stops you before you could sit. He pulled your arm so you can squeeze next to him on the tiny fucking armchair. You hope Hyunjin was watching.
“You okay?” Jisung asks cupping your face to lean your head against his shoulder - he knows how tired you get when you drink.
“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes as you continue to converse with your friend.
Hyunjin was still watching everything from the other side of the room. His hand was wrapped around his drink tightly, expressing his annoyance at the skin-ship and at himself for not pulling you away the second you got here, like he wasn’t waiting all night just for you to arrive. He starts to feel a little jealous now that your attention is on Han-Ji. And maybe Minho was right, and Han-Ji does have feelings for you.
He had to do it. He had to pull you away and ask why you hadn’t noticed his feelings for you all this time. He feels himself grow hot, he was feeling tense.
Hyunjin takes in a deep breath before downing the drink, squeezing his cup on the process. The plastic from the red cup causes disturbance making the boys turn their head at their friend.
“You good, pretty boy?” Changbin asks noticing the change in Hyunjin’s demeanour, taking the red cup out of his hand.
“Yeah, just need some air,” Hyunjin says running a hand through his fluffy red hair as he makes his way to you.
“Can we talk?” Someone askes from above you and you instantly open your eyes, locking eyes with them.
You feel your heart skip a beat as you finally see him. He had on some baggy jeans with a black t-shirt, one sleeved rolled up complementing his muscular arm. God, he looked so hot; you feel yourself drooling over him again.
“Okay.” You answered softly.
“Come,” he says, grabbing a hold of your hand making you get up from the chair. You heart start to flutter at his brace. Was it happening now? Is Hyunjin jealous?
He guides you through the crowd of people in the living room before dragging you up the stairs and towards Minho’s bedroom. He lets you enter first before locking the door behind him.
Your eyes wonder around Minho’s bedroom - his room was dark, quite clean, quite quiet for such a loud guy. You scoff to yourself quietly at the contrast. As you spin around the room, Hyunjin watches you and smiles at your cuteness before getting back to his senses of why he pulled you here in the first place.
“Are you drunk?” He asked suddenly.
“Hmm? Not quite yet,” you answered, making your way into Minho’s ensuite. “Why?” You asked so he can follow you, just testing the waters.
You placed your bag on the counter before digging through it trying to find your lipstick.
“What are you doing then?” Hyunjin asked towering behind you looking at you through the mirror.
“What do you mean?” You glance up at him to ask before going through your bag again, acting like you had no idea what was going on, even though your heart was beating just as fast as his.
“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Yep, he saw everything.
“I wasn’t on him?” You lied.
“Y/N.” He was getting a little be frustrated at your replies, you were obviously up to something.
“Why does it matter to you anyways—”
“—It’s making me jealous.” Hyunjin interrupted you making you glance up at him again. Minho’s plan was working. Minho was right.
You spin around to face him and finally, you can feel the tension everyone was talking about. He likes you. You feel your heart beating rapidly as he stares into your eyes. Your breathing becomes heavier as he takes another step towards you. You try to keep eye contact just to see if he drops it first, but he doesn’t. Your eyes drop first, to his lips then up to his eyes then back to his lips. They looked so full, so soft. Wouldn’t be crazy if you guys just kissed?
“Hyunjin?” You say above a whisper, lips forming into a pout right after. Hyunjin found you so precious looking up at him like this.
His resting face rapidly turns into a smirks now as he watches your eyes flicker to his lips. He knew what you wanted; he knows how you feel now. “Hmm?” He questioned, just to tease you a little bit.
“Can you just kiss me already?” You say, not begging but with a hint of desperation. You like him and you just confirmed he likes you, what were you guys waiting for?
He chuckles before his hand comes up to your face, cupping it for a second then he leans and kisses you. His lips felt so soft, so warm just like how you imagined them felt. You couldn’t explain the feeling, it was like you were in dream, it’s incredible.
Soon Hyunjin deepens the kiss, letting his tongue enter your mouth as one of his hand keeps your face in place, the other snaked down your body to your waist. Your tongue swiped against his lips, and you tasted a bit of lemonade and tequila. If this was a way to drink tequila, then you were all for it.
“Up,” he pulls away to say and you listen jumping onto the counter with the help of his grip. You spread your legs so he can stand in between them. He looks at you in awe, he couldn’t control his smile.
“You didn’t answer me..” he says as his hands find their way under your dress just resting on your thighs.
“Hm?” You whimpered, wanting his lips back on yours.
“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Hyunjin asked again, a little lower, a little more raspier now that he’s more confident to dominate you.
“To make you jealous,” you whisper back to him, admitting to all your little shenanigans.
“Why?” He couldn’t hold back his smile.
“To see if you like me back.” You say, and his ears perked up at your words.
“You got your answer?”
“Mhmm..” you admit.
“Good.”
“But.. want to hear you say it,” you reply cheekily, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders to pull him close to you so your lips are barely touching.
He lets out an airy breath before pressing a kiss to your lips, letting it linger on for a little bit just to make your heart flutter once more for him. “I like you,” he says, and you try to conceal the smile pulling up on your face. “Happy?”
“Yes.”
“Where were we?” Hyunjin says and you pull him back onto you.
Maybe it was the pent up sexual tension you both had been holding in as, as soon as your lips were connected again, it became again heated. His hands are fondling with your thighs, and his tongue is slipped back down your mouth. You feel a hot sensation making its way to your core, a moan slipping from your lips. He smirked in between the kisses, his hands inching up higher now hiking you dress up.
Hyunjin continues his kisses down your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting him cover more area with his lips.
As he harshly sucks on your neck, your hands start to explore his body, caressing up and down his chest, down his covered stomach. You slowly creep them lower to his hard on that was pressing against the counter, begging to be touch. He lets out a groan at the contact.
“Hyunjin?” you whimpered at how stiff he was. You both wanted more but not on this cold bathroom counter. “Are we actually doing this here?” You ask.
“Where else would you do it?” Hyunjin looks down at you his a raised eyebrow, his hands stopping at your hips.
You look around before cheekily suggesting, “Minho’s bed,” and he cracks up.
“Come,” he takes a step back to hold your hand as you jump off the counter.
Hyunjin pulls you back onto him as he sat back on Minho’s bed - it was comfier than he expected, it was actually quite comfy to fuck on actually.
“You’re such a good kisser, it making me so horny,” He says, gripping your thighs so you’re straddling him. You feel his hard-on abusing your core and you become like jelly, draping yourself onto him. God, it was also making you so horny.
Are you both really gonna fuck in your best friend’s bed? Probably.
“Hyunjin?” You start to suck on his neck, returning the marks he gave you. “Wanna blow you… can I?” You asked, rolling your hips onto his.
He sucks in a sharp breath at the pleasure, halting your hips. “Fuck— kitten..” The pet name slipping from his lips, making you stop whatever you were doing to look him in the eyes. Did he just call you kitten? And did you like it?
“Yeah? Wanna be a good kitten? And suck me off right here in your best-friend room?” He teased after seeing your eyes lit up at the name.
“Yes.. wanna be a good kitten,” you replied, lifting his shirt to slowly to expose his abs, your hand lazily runs across his milky body.
You shuffled back, kneeling down by the bed before peeking at his happy trail. You finally got to see it up close, and you didn’t waste anytime before attaching your lips to it. Hyunjin’s hand flung to hold onto your hair and he lets out a groan as you suck the skin around his navel.
“You’re just like a kitten, nipping into me like that,” he moans.
“You love it,” you teased him.
“Yeah I do..” he confesses breathlessly. “Couldn’t stop thinking back to gym class yesterday.. how you eyed it all lesson..” Oh, so he caught you staring but didn’t say anything?
“Was it driving you insane?” He torments and you murmured nodding your head.
“God, kitten… need your mouth now, I’m might cum untouched,” he begs and you chuckle, blowing hot air from your mouth at his skin causing him to flinch.
You give him what he wants. You undo his jeans, shimmering it down his thighs before palming him through his boxer.
“Y/N, please..” he begs again, closing his eyes to hold in his release.
“You’re so big,” you say the second you pull down his boxer letting his red rock solid dick slap across his stomach. You didn’t expect him to be him to be this big, this thick. You gulp at it before wrapping your hands around him. “Wanna taste..” you blabbered as you brought his tip to your lips.
Hyunjin’s head kick back as you wrap your lips around his head. His hands gripped your hair tightly as he starts to set the pace, and you let him. He pushes you down taking half his length into your mouth before guiding you back up. You moan as he slides down your mouth, unable to control the pleasure you were having from just giving him head. Once you go match his pace, Hyunjin lets go of his grip and runs his through your hair, endlessly praising you as he tries to keeps himself together.
“You’re so good—” he sucks in another breath.
You take him fully into your mouth and gagged once he hits the back of your throat. “Ahh, cuming- cuming—” he lets out a low grunt as he paints your throat white. You swallow the warm thick liquid before letting go of him with a pop.
“Kitten, you’re so perfect. Such a good mouth,” he says finding your arm and pulling up to sit on his lap.
“Can I return the favour?” His hand wrapped around your hips, his finger carefully gathering the fabric of your skirt so he can expose your panties.
“I don’t know if I can keep quiet Hyunjin,” you admitted. You can still hear the loud music outside, even if it was muffled by the walls but a part of you’re still afraid someone might hear you. You couldn’t even keep it in while making out, nor sucking him off, you don’t know how you’ll be if you guys actually have sex.
“But I can’t leave you high like this,” Hyunjin replies, his two fingers just touching the fabric of your panties that was getting soaked by your wetness. You kick your head back at the pleasures “I just know you’re wet from sucking me off.. Let me, let me just eat you out..” he begged, his eyes turned dark full of lust.
“Please,” you gave in, out of breath.
Hyunjin plants a kiss to your neck before laying you down on the bed.
“Fuck, you are soaked,” Hyunjin says the second he lifts up your dress and sees the huge wet patch on your underwear. He kneels down and peels it off, watching a thin line of your wetness pulls off with it. Hyunjin spreads your legs wider and his eyes rolls to the back of his head as exposes you. You were wet, glistening, it was so hot to him.
You let out a moan as the cold from Minho’s room brushed against your core. “Please, need your mouth,” it was your turn to beg.
Hyunjin complies and attached his lips to your pussy. “Ahh! Mhmm.. More..” you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t know if you can keep quiet.
Hyunjin buries his face deeper as he contents to lick all over you, his nose rubbing against your clit. He was basically pussy drunk at his stage, gripping and pulling your hip closer to his faces. Your head falls back as you feel the pleasure building up in your core, your thighs volunteering closing around his head to add more pressure.
“I’m going cum, please.. Hyunjin— gonna cum..” you whine as he harshly sucks on your clit now, it was basically the cheat code in making you cum and he was able to get it the first time.
You moaned as you feel a glush of wetness explode from your core, you had cum. Hyunjin can tell you’re orgasming but he didn’t want to stop, you were too addicting.
You had to rip him off of you before you were overstimulated. “Hyunjin, too much,” you whined and he finally lifts his head.
“You taste too good kitten, sorry couldn’t stop,” he says and he wipes your wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it.
“Come here,” he jumps on the bed, pulling you into his arms. He runs his finger through your hair as you recover. You both stare at each other for a while before falling into a fit of giggles. How crazy is it that you were each other’s crush and not realising it.
“Should we go back out?” He asked smoothing down your hair.
“I have to touch up my lipstick first,” you say, pecking his nose.
“Let me help you,” he pulls you up from the bed before back hugging you to the bathroom where your bag was.
“Back to mine tonight, okay?” He reminded you softly as he wipes your lipstick in your lips - a hint of innocence radiating from him like he didn’t just lap up all your juices like a greedy animal.
“Of course, I have no where else I rather be tonight,” you answered, grinning from ear to ear at your pretty boy.
“Can’t believe it took you to squeeze into that tiny chair with Han-Ji for me to tell you,” Hyunjin beats himself up.
“It’s okay Hyunjin, I reckon the timing was perfect,” you reassured.
The house was packed now than before, it took you and Hyunjin a while to squeeze through all the people. Minho watch as you both hold hands, happily, making your way down the stairs, his smug pulling back on his face.
“Who got the bragging rights?” Minho asks cheekily as you both walk past him.
“You.” You answered rolling your eyes and Hyunjin laughs.
“You also got a messy bed too, bro,” Hyunjin taps Minho by the shoulders before following you.
Minho was left mouth agape as he stares up at the stairs. “Did they just…”
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byuntrash101 · 7 months
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sharing is caring?
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hongjoong x f!reader x mingi smut | mdni 5.2k of course hongjoong cares about his friends but when mingi gets too close to his girl it’s time to remind him sharing is not always caring. nsfw tags under the cut
dom possessive bf!joong, sub simp!mingi, exhibitionism, voyeurism, joong has a point to prove, fingering (f), oral (f), squirting, multiple orgasms (f), a dash of spit kink, unprotected sex (don't), nipple play, praising (f), hair pulling (m), slight degradation (mingi is called desperate and a dog), masturbation (m), dry humping, some mxm but not really (just trust me), leg humping, slight edging, cumming untouched, cum play, cum eating
a/n: idk what happened. i was horny okay? (what's new ?lol) and im not even sorry for the absolute filth that follows.
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Hongjoong, Mingi and yourself have been in the studio for hours now, it was well past into the night but neither of you were complaining. You were way too focussed on producing this song to even feel the effect of fatigue tensing the muscles of your neck and laying heavy on your eyes. 
You were all too focussed. Well, you were definitely the one that was the most focused right now. Because as you bent over the mixing board to point out on the screen the section that seemed to require more work, you accidentally found yourself crowding Mingi’s personal space. Of course, you made nothing of it. Mingi was your friend, you’ve been physically close to him dozens of times, it didn’t mean anything in particular. But Mingi has had different feelings about you for a while. Maybe even ever since you started dating Hongjoong and right now the only thing he could see was that the loose fitted tank top you were wearing hung slightly around your chest which resulted in your breasts being on display, in close proximity and right at his eye level. 
Subconsciously his eyes were attracted to the exposed skin and he had to bite his bottom lip to repress a small gasp of surprise. He innocently pulled back on the beanie that was falling low on his forehead and his eyes just to be able to look a little better. He didn’t even need to turn his head, only look slightly to the side and he could see everything: the black lace bra you were wearing, the crease between your breasts. He could smell your delicate perfume. Hell, you were so close he could even feel your body warmth radiating on his face. Or maybe the warmth he felt was actually from his own boiling blood rushing to his face… and to his groin. 
Hongjoong that was slightly leaning on his office chair saw the whole scene unfold as he peered at the both of you through his large silver framed glasses. Inexplicable anger started to seep into his blood when he saw his friend eyeing you in that way. Hongjoong knew you were beautiful, there was no possible way not to look at you. But he still didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. 
“Don’t you think so?” you added when neither of the men you were directly addressing responded. 
Mingi only shifted uncomfortably when you stood back straight, oddly averting your eyes and Hongjoong only nodded absentmindedly. You figured they were just too tired to continue and as you were opening your mouth to suggest you should go to sleep and continue later, Hongjoong spoke up.
“Why don’t you go in the recording booth to sample some of the voice lines and we can all decide which one sounds better?” He suggested and you lit up.
“Great idea” you said, grabbing the music sheets and disappearing behind the door of the soundproof recording booth to reappear through the small window. You slipped on the headset, adjusted the mic stand and spread out the music sheets while Mingi and Hongjoong looked at you silently. You gave two thumbs up when you were ready. 
“Okay great” Your boyfriend’s voice resonated in the headset. “Let’s start with the first one” you nodded and soon after heard the music cue.
Both of the men in the small space right next door were strangely quiet. Mingi couldn’t stop shifting on his chair as he tried to find a position that would conceal his hard on. Trying to concentrate on your voice coming through the speakers and not the way you smelled or the slutty lingerie your were wearing under such unsuspecting clothes or your beautiful and perfect fucking tits shoved right into his face, both his hands laying over them and palming them as he buried his face between. Fuck he was getting harder.
“What do you think?” Hongjoong asked him as you were still singing through the speakers. 
Right there Mingi realized he hadn’t been paying any attention to what was going on around him. His mind was poisoned by the images he was so vividly picturing: you slipping off the flimsy tank top and taking his hands to lay over the bra, asking him to play with your tits, begging him to take off the lace that was keeping you from feeling his hands on your nude skin. Or you spread out onto the mixing table with Mingi’s face buried between your thighs, getting to finally taste you and hear you as he made you feel good, feeling your pussy throb under his tongue smearing your wetness all over his face. That was what Mingi was paying attention to, not the song. Definitely not the song.
But he needed to find something to say before he looked suspicious so he went another route. A route that wasn’t directly about the song but still close enough to pass.
“I think she’s a good addition to the team. Look at how far we’ve come with this song already? Of course we still have to run it by Eden but I mean it’s pretty much done.” 
“No” Hongjoong started, already his tone was a lot less neutral, tipping towards the cold end of the spectrum. And Mingi bit his lip thinking his friend was going to ask him to be more specific about the voice samples he wasn’t listening to but how wrong he was...
“I mean physically what do you think?” Hongjoong’s tone was now as glacial as could be as he did his best to dissimulate the burning rage that was hiding behind the biting cold tone.
The words didn’t make any sense in Mingi’s mind. So he turned to his friend trying to find on his face a hint that could help him make the sentence he just heard make sense. But he only found Hongjoong looking right at him, dead serious, an unfamiliar darkness about his aura.
“What?” he asked, dumbfounded and utterly confused.
“You wanna fuck my girlfriend?"
This time around Mingi heard correctly, that he was sure of. But he was still just as confused about the whole ordeal. “What the fuck are you on ab-”
“I saw you practically drooling all over her tits earlier” Hongjoong interrupted him, piercing eyes peering at his friend over his rectangular glasses. Now Mingi was shifting in his seat again. 
Fuck… he saw that.
Mingi started to stammer to whip up a reasonable excuse but his pressured mind couldn’t come up with anything worthwhile. Of course! Because there was no reasonable excuse. Truth was he gave in to his primal instinct and couldn’t look away. 
But very fortunately for him that’s when you emerged from the recording booth.
“So what are we thinking? Clearly my delivery wasn’t the best for the second option but cut me some slack and just imagine Jongho, okay?” you said, your exhaustion seeping through your words in the form of exasperation, completely oblivious of the heavy air that was stretching between the two friends.
Mingi jumped on the occasion to escape the humid tension that was raising the hairs on his nape. 
“I need to make a call” he abruptly said as he stood up and hurriedly left the studio. You sighed slowly coming to term with the idea that sadly, you won’t be able to finish the song tonight.
“What’s his deal?” 
***
Mingi didn’t need long. He just needed a couple of minutes to gather his thoughts, that's all. He thought as he rushed to the bathroom and locked the door right behind him, even though you three were the only ones left here.
“What the fuck were you thinking” he whispered to his reflexion pointing an accusing finger at the mirror above the sink. "Of course he noticed!" He slipped his white beanie off and settled it on the edge of the sink. He splashed his face a couple times with water in an attempt to clear his mind. But even the cold water wasn't enough to soothe the aching hard on that was currently pressing tight onto the cold ceramic of the bathroom sink. 
Mingi looked at himself for a second, pondering.
"Fuck it!" He concluded before shoving his hand down his loose-fitting sweats and pulling his rock hard cock out.
"I just need to cum real quick" he said to himself in an almost apologetic tone. Almost bargaining with himself.
He spat in his open palm and dragged the warm liquid to his cockhead with a lowly sigh of relief that made his Adam's apple vibrate in his throat.
"God- fuck-" he breathed out. Mingi didn't even need to focus on anything in particular to get himself there. He just closed his eyes and images of you came running forth.
He saw himself ripping your tank top and bra off in one movement freeing your beautiful tits and groping them right in front of his friend. He saw you sinking to your knees pulling his sweatpants down and taking him into your mouth. Your lips perfectly stretching around his large cock. 
He spat in his hand again picturing the wetness and tightness of your throat instead of his balled fist. Loud and lewd noises erupted from the act, squelching wet sounds coupled with heavy sighs and strangled moans he struggled to keep behind his teeth.
"F-fuckkk" he whined a little more high pitched than anticipated. He picked up the pace, pressing his thumb on his tip to squeeze the precum out as he felt himself twitch.
If Hongjoong only knew how right he was. Mingi did want to fuck his girlfriend. He wanted to fuck you so bad.  How he would have loved to stuff you full of his cock right then and there. Bending you over the armchair and snaking his big hand into your hair making you look up at your boyfriend while he just watched helplessly as Mingi claimed you, pounding into you mercilessly, splitting you open on his cock, your pretty face contorted into blissful agony because of him. For him. Only him.
He let your name roll off his hot tongue a hundred times in muffled and secret pants and moans until the pleasure was unbearable, uncontainable and spilled over the edge of Mingi’s sinful mind. And he was spraying his warm cum all over his fist and the bathroom sink in a last broken complaint of your name, his other hand tightly gripping the edge of the sink as if his large and ample thighs were going to give out.
He looked at his mess in the sink and took a couple of deep breaths. That should be enough to get his mind out of the gutter… Right?
***
“What’s his deal?” you said nodding to the door. Your boyfriend only shrugged nonchalantly while you settled the music sheets on the mixing board, shoulders flat and defeated. 
“You look tired baby” Hongjoong added with a warm smile ignoring your question about Mingi. He didn't want to talk about him right now. “Cm’here” he said patting his lap invitingly. You accepted the offer and settled yourself comfortably in Hongjoong’s lap, letting your back rest against his chest. He took advantage of the position to sneak in kisses to the base of your nape and nuzzling his nose in your neck. And before you knew it his hands had snaked around your waist and lightly stroked your inner thighs. The light touches lifted goosebumps on your bare skin, thanks to the skirt you chose to wear today.
Soon enough you had completely fallen into your boyfriend’s embrace. You were so relaxed now that you forgot about everything else and you didn’t even realize how his legs came over yours to spread them nice and wide. But you did feel when his sneaky hands slipped under your skirt and stroked the thin fabric of your black lace underwear. You jolted but Hongjoong’s legs around yours kept you in position.
“Joongie” you started to whine when he applied more pressure to your sensitive area.
“Shhh” he soothed you with more kisses. “Let me help you unwind” he said softly in your ear.
“But what if Mingi comes back?”
Hongjoong didn’t answer that, only smirking against your nape and sliding your underwear to the side. That’s enough of an answer for you, and even more so when Hongjoong dipped his finger to your entrance while his other hand sneaked under your loose tank top and under your bra to cup your breast. You could only let a moan slither through your teeth when Hongjoong gathered your wetness in slow circles over your opening to drag it back to your clit.
“I barely even touched you and you’re already this wet?” Hongjoong noticed as you complained with another little whine. “My naughty girl~”he sang. “I bet that’s exactly what you were waiting for, huh? My hands all over your pretty little pussy.”
He started to draw circles on the erect nub inevitably making your little cunt create a big mess under your skirt. As he picked up the pace he started to pull a little harder at your nipple making you moan just a little louder than you anticipated, making you clap your hand over your traitorous mouth.
“Be careful baby. We want to be able to hear when Mingi comes back” you felt heat rush to your neck at the idea of getting caught in this position. That’s when Hongjoong pushed his index and middle finger past your entrance. You moaned again against your fingers, eyebrows digging a crease in your forehead as you tried to remain as silent as possible. Maybe you could muffle your voice but the same thing couldn’t be said about the squelching noises your boyfriend was dragging out of your sopping wet cunt. Long strings of arousal linking his fingers and your heat every time he pulled out to play with your painfully sensitive clit.
Your high was nearing and as the pleasure rose you slowly forgot about your whereabouts so when you heard footsteps coming your way from the hall you stiffened in your boyfriend’s lap. Instinctively trying to close your legs. But Hongjoong’s strong thighs kept you exactly like you were.
“J-Joongie…hmph…M-Min-gi” you struggled to say as Hongjoong kept on teasing your clit and nipple. 
Your eyes darted over to the door when you heard the recognizable clatter of the handle, your heartbeat started to raise and you struggled to close your legs.
“Stay put baby.” Hongjoong breathed against the shell of your ear. Which made you stop. “I want you stay exactly like this”
You can’t describe the overwhelming shame that took over you when you saw the door being pushed open and you were met with Mingi. 
It only took mere milliseconds for Mingi’s eyes to dart from your flushed face and half lidded eyes to the suspicious movements under your skirt and to Hongjoong’s smug little smile. 
Mingi’s cheeks instantly became scarlet red as he turned his head around to look away. But even if he couldn't see anymore he could still hear the sound of your cunt being stretched open by Hongjoong’s fingers as well as your soft muffled moans. And even though he just jacked off in the bathroom he still felt his pants becoming tighter once again.
“You can look” Hongjoong started. “I’ll allow it. So you can see she only belongs to me” 
Mingi barely wrapped his mind around the words but nonetheless he slowly looked in your direction again. Instantly he felt blood rush to his lower half again, reaching full hardness in a matter of seconds but how could he not? When you sounded and looked so divine and adorable at the same time. Even behind your hands clamped over half your face, muffling your sounds and wet eyes looking back at him occasionally fluttering close and open when he guessed Hongjoong was expertly teasing you. How could he not when he saw your skirt being lifted up and being let down at such a rapid pace accompanied with those wet and lewd sounds that were erupting from between your legs. The sinful acts only concealed by the damn piece of fabric.
It took Mingi everything he had to not just whip his cock out right then and there and stroke himself again. Instead his stupidly hard cock laid uselessly in his pants leaking precum in his underwear.
“I bet you want to see what’s going on under there, huh?” Hongjoong taunted, as Mingi stared obtusely between your thighs, with his mouth agape and his cock poking through his sweatpants.
Mingi already came this far and maybe lust was clouding his judgment and desire was getting the best of him but he nodded slowly peeling his eyes off the cursed skirt to look at his friend’s devious little smirk playing on his lips. 
“I’ll let you if you get on your knees and-”
In a split second Mingi found himself kneeling in front of the both of you, interrupting Hongjoong.
“You’re really that much of a simp for my girlfriend? Have some dignity, bro” Your boyfriend spat. But Mingi barely registered the insult he was entranced by the way your skirt was lifting and falling. He'll have time to mourn his lost dignity tomorrow. Tonight he did not intend on letting his chance slip away.
“Come closer” Hongjoong commanded and Mingi crawled to you until his face was way too close for comfort. At this close distance Mingi heard the sounds of your wet cunt being abused as clear as day as loud as bells. He even wished he could record them to play them forever but if he wants to relive this moment he will only be able to count on his memory, maybe that was why he was so attentive. He wanted to remember every detail. He took a deep breath inhaling your scent that was now floating to his nose. You smelled divine, the right amount of sweet and sinful. The perfect cocktail. Strong but oh so feminine. A fragrance that went straight to his head to burn his last two functioning brain cells. 
“Now promise after tonight you won’t ever look at my girl ever again” Mingi didn’t need to hear it twice. He immediately followed with the request.
“I promise I won’t look at y/n ever again” Mingi hurriedly said, almost choking on his saliva. Truth be told, in this instant he would have agreed to virtually anything, he would have eaten the off white beanie right then and there if he was asked to. He’ll think about the consequences tomorrow.
“Okay baby, lift up your skirt” Hongjoong said his tone changing radically, as stern as he was when addressing Mingi he was now soft and gentle with you.
“But Joongie” you whined right before a moan beat to the punch another complaint as your boyfriend slipped his fingers out of your heat to circle your clit once more.
“Come on baby, be a good girl and do as you’re told” he said before shoving his fingers back in earning another muffled moan. “Show your pretty little pussy to our guest.”
Slowly but surely your hands left your face to wrap your fingers around the hem of your skirt at both your sides. Mingi couldn't believe his eyes as he looked up at your flushed face looking right back into his eyes as you carefully lifted up your skirt. His eyes darted straight down to your core. His hard cock immediately jumped inside his sweatpants, his eyes grew twice as big and his mouth started to water. There was nothing that was more beautiful in the world he thought as he slipped the beanie off his head, setting it carelessly on the ground beside him.
The way your perfect little cunt accepted Hongjoong’s fingers, clamping around them every time he pulled them out to circle your clit a couple of times before pushing them back in again, your little cunt emjoying the attention and twitching under Mingi’s scrutinizing gaze. 
You felt the thrill of being watched as you looked at Mingi, eyeing you like a famished man. His hair disheveled and his cheeks pink. It made your core tingle with a brand new source of arousal and you wiggled your toes in lustful shame.
“Fuck” Mingi said under his breath making you moan a little louder as you watched him being entranced by you. 
The thrill rocketed you to your high and you started to squirm and clench around Hongjoong’s fingers. He knew exactly what it meant.
“P-please Joongie. Can I-” you panted as your fists tensed up around the hem of the skirt but never letting your hold falter making sure Mingi saw every part of you. Normally Hongjoong liked to tease you but this time he wanted to reward you for being such a good and obedient girl. And moreover he wanted to give his friend a good show of how only he could make you feel this good.
“Look carefully” he whispered, addressing his friend kneeling between your legs, eyes perfectly leveled with your pussy. “Cum baby” he said, his hot lips pressed to your ear. And you immediately let go. Letting your walls grip Hongjoong’s fingers urging them to reach further as you twitched uncontrollably, your cum flowing out of you in quick spurts. Soaking the carpeted floor. Mingi’s jaw dropped to the ground as he watched the precious nectar being wasted on the carpet. His throat suddenly feeling as dry and the saharan desert, licking his chapped lips instinctively at the fleeting and forbidden thought of connecting his lips to your core to have a taste of you.
Hongjoong accompanied you gently as you rode off your high, your back arched into his chest. Hongjoong pulled his fingers until only his first knuckle was still inside and spread his fingers apart, stretching you open beautifully for Mingi to look at how your walls fluttered around nothing, your orgasm prolonging as your chest rose and fell rapidly, your moans slowly dying off. 
“Look at how pretty she is just for me” Hongjoong added, spreading his fingers even wider, as you whined again but still holding the hem of the skirt up with purpose. This way Mingi could even see your cervix pulsing, he could almost hear it demanding cum. Demanding to be fucked full of cum and knocked up right then and there, holding Mingi as witness.
“Fuck” was the only thing Mingi could enunciate truth be told his brain was completely fried and he didn't have the wits to come up with anything more clever.
You couldn’t help but squirm again as Mingi leaned in to have a better view at your most private parts, his nose was now only a couple of inches away from your cunt and he couldn't help but to take a big whiff of you. Your essence absolutely bewitched him… he just couldn't help but to wonder how you tasted.
“You did so good baby” Hongjoong soothed immediately as he slipped his fingers out bringing them to his mouth. Mingi followed his friend's tongue wrap around his digits and lap up the precious liquid coating them as he instinctively swiped his tongue on his bottom lip, his hard and leaking cock slowly forming a pool of precum in his sweatpants.
“How do you think she tastes?” Hongjoong taunted his friend again. 
“Fucking delicious” Mingi sighed his dick twiching at the thought of your wetness coating his tongue. 
“Trust me whatever you're imagining. It’s better. ” Hongjoong said, holding his saliva and cum coated fingers to your lips which you welcome into your mouth. “How do you taste baby?” he asked, smirking at his friends looking with the most desperate of eyes at how you licked off his fingers clean.
“So good Joongie” you replied before he popped his fingers out of your mouth with a lewd sound.
Mingi watched as he swallowed thickly just as you did so, echoing the sound with his own mouth as if this way he would get a taste.
“Baby you’re so hot I got so fucking hard for you” Hongjoong whispered in your neck and pressed a couple of wet kisses to the shell of your ear and jerked his hips into you poking his cock on your ass. 
You didn’t need anything more to busy your hand and freeing Hongjoong’s cock from the uncomfortable restrains. 
“Sit on my cock baby” he urged, with all of that teasing he also got pretty worked up. 
When your boyfriend’s cock rubbed on your folds you jolted your hips in anticipation. Before aligning him with you and slowly sinking your hips on his. Mingi held his breath at how your pussy perfectly fitted around him, perfectly expanded to have him whole inside you until you bottomed out with a whiny and breathy moan. 
“Good girl” he said, wrapping both his hands under your thighs and thrusting up into you. The first couple of strokes were slow, mainly to warm you up to him but also to let Mingi have a good look at his cock splitting you open. 
“Joongie~~” you cried as you let Hongjoong take control. “Fuck it feels so good” you let your head rolls back onto his shoulder
“Yeah? You like that?” he said as he sped up. 
“Fuck yeah I love it. I love your cock” you declared.
 Mingi couldn't believe his eyes or his ears as a matter of fact. To hear you say such sinful things, hearing you make these unholy noises. Getting to see your cunt clench around his friend's dick. There was not a trace of doubt in Mingi’s mind. You were made just for his cock. Perfectly molded just for him. 
“Who’s cock do you love baby?” Hongjoong asked through gritted teeth, maintaining the deadly pace between pants and groans.
“Yours!! Your cock!! Kim Hongjoong’s cock!!!!” you replied hurriedly, almost instinctively. Your mind is only filled with thoughts of your boyfriend.
“Hear that?” Hongjoong asked, almost laughing as if his friend's misery entertained him. Mingi didn’t even need to look at him; he could hear the shit eating grin from a mile away. He was annoyed at that but he was even more annoyed at the way he couldn’t look away, he couldn’t help himself. 
“Fuckkk” Mingi moaned when your shin accidentally brushed over his clothed crotch. He felt pityfull for it but he couldn't help it. He wrapped both his hands around your calf and started to hump your leg. The last strand of sanity out the window as he mindlessly humped your leg like a dog. 
“You’re that desperate huh? That’s fucking laughable. you're really like a dog” Hongjoong laughed again. “Pathetic.” But Mingi didn’t even hear. He was too focussed on looking at your cunt swallowing Hongjoong’s dick and spit it back out covered in your glistening juices, said juices pooling on Hongjoong’s pants and staining them. 
Fucked you looked so fucking delicious, and your leg felt so good on his miserably hard cock he couldn’t stop the high pitched moans from leaving his lips and being set free in the small studio, joining yours and Hongjoong’s in a sinful trio. Undoubtedly the most beautiful and harmonious song ever produced within these four soundproof walls.
“Are you close baby?” Hongjoong asked between pants, his hips never faltering, fucking up into you and rearranging your guts.
“Yessss” you cried. “so– so c-close”
“You need a little help to get there?” 
Mingi’s ears perked up.
“Yes” you replied, shyly, getting an idea of what that implied.
“Mingi?” Hongjoong asked and instantly Mingi wrapped his mouth around your clit. You threw your head back, your moans morphing into literal screams of bliss. Mingi had been so starved of your taste ever since you started dating Hongjoong. He found himself wondering how you tasted like and he was not about to keep that an eternal mystery. He closed his lips around your nub sucking at it like a starved man. Twirling his tongue on the bud, even dipping deep down at your entrance, he didn’t mind one bit if he felt his tongue dragged along the cock of his friend as Hongjoong rammed into your tight cunt, all he wanted was to taste your juices that pooled the sides to drag them up to your clit.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum” you announced, your hand instinctively finding Mingi’s locks of hair and pulling at it. Making him groan against your folds, his hips snapping against your legs as he grunted louder and louder by the second.
“Cum, baby. Let him taste how much you love me” Hongjoong groaned as he felt you grip tighter around him, your hungry cunt urging him to deliver his warm load. Demanding to be filled to the brim.
“Fuck baby I’m cumming. Gonna fuck you full of my cum” Hongjoong warned. 
“Y-yes please fill me up!! pleasepleaseplease” you started to mumble, your words all jumbled up in a desperate and lust induced plea.
“Fucking take it” Hongjoong said giving a particularly sharp thrust into you, his tip going up to kiss your cervix and delivering his huge and warm load right into your womb as you also let go of the burning coil in your guts, your walls spasmming around Hongjoong’s cock and your clit throbbing under Mingi’s tongue. Once more your cum gushed out of you like a waterfall and soaking Mingi’s face. Hongjoong’s relentless thrusts pulling the white cum out until it perfectly mixed with yours, the bitter taste of his friend’s load coating his tongue and making Mingi dizzy on your and Hongjoong’s love
“Fuckkk” Mingi groaned as his hips became less precise, creaming himself with his cum, the warm seed spreading into his boxer and seeping through the sweatpants to form a visible dark gray stain. His dick uncontrollably twitching inside his pants as he moaned face flushed against your folds, his tongue continuously lapping up your cunt and around Hongjoong’s cock until both the men came to a stop. 
When Hongjoong pulled out, Mingi let go of your leg to plunge his face between your thighs, lapping up the cum dripping out of your fluttering and shapeless little hole and swallowing it in big gulps. Dragging his tongue to your over sensitive clit, not caring for your overstimulated body until you pulled him by the hair off your exhausted puffy cunt.
“Stop~~” you whined breathlessly which snapped Mingi out of his trance as he looked up at you with fucked out eyes, lips swollen and his face made shiny with both your releases.
“There!” Hongjoong said. “You got what you wanted. Now don't go and forget your promise.”
Mingi groaned… he almost did forget about that. This opportunity might never happen again but he will always have the memory of this night in the studio and your taste on his tongue he thought, licking his lips.
“Fine”
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feral4daryl · 6 months
Note
I would love to see a fic of Daryl with pregnant reader (bonus points if there’s a breeding kink [if you’re comfortable, I didn’t see it in the list] that results in her being that way). She’s concerned about the changes in her body and that he doesn’t find her attractive in her condition. So, Daryl gets to share his love for pregophillia. :)
masterlist || MDNI
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depths of your despair.
daryl dixon x pregnant!reader
summary: after a series of misunderstandings, insecurities regarding your pregnancy start affecting your relationship with daryl. but as soon as he becomes aware of that, he makes it up to you, worshipping your pregnant body like he should've done since the beginning.
warnings: 18+ smut, pregophilia, dirty talk, pet names, praising, cunnilingus, degradation, daddy kink, creampie, impregnation, arguments, rough sex, pregnancy sex, outdoors sex, slight choking, dacryphilia, self-consciousness, manhandling (if you squint), squirting.
word count: 8.1k
a/n: tysm for your request, i really enjoyed writing this one <3 it turned out a tiny bit more angsty than i intended it to but i promised it has a happy ending!
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<flashback>
“Tha's righ', doll” Daryl cooed against your ear, harshly gripping your hips to keep you in place while he pounded your tight cunt at a fast pace. His chest pressing on your back, making your body shake with intense pleasure at his every thrust, each one deeper than the previous. You could feel his sweat wetting your body, barely able to keep your eyes open.
“Takin' daddy's cock so well like a good lil’ slut” The contrast between praising and degrading turns your brain into putty. That man knew all your weakest spots, he always knew exactly what to say to make you weak in the knees, struggling to keep yourself on your feet. You couldn't think of anything else or anyone else in that moment but him and the feeling of his big cock almost ripping your little cunny apart.
Daryl's always been the sweetest to you, always making sure you were safe, giving you all the shoulders when you cried, but when it came to sex, he was always just so eager and desperate for you that he couldn't help but be rough. He made every fucking feel like the last one, as if it was his last chance to ever lay his hands on you. He made it count, making you wonder how you were capable to have lived so many years without that man before you met him.
You tried to keep quiet, careful not to catch the attention of any of those walking dead fuckers' roaming around the woods while Daryl harshly abused you against a tree, whispering the dirtiest words into your ears. But he wasn't making it easy on you, and despite your effort, your moans and cries were getting louder and louder as you got closer to your high. He reveled in the way you bit your lips and threw your head back to rest it on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to let go of your hips and wrap his big arm around your throat, his other palm now pressing against your lips in an attempt to muffle your sounds.
“Shhh...” He shushed you. “Be nice 'n quiet fer daddy, yea?” His teasing words and a small nibble on your earlobe from him were all it took to make your legs finally fail as you sank to your knees. Instead of holding you up, he nearly finished throwing you on the dirt, laying your body flat on it. The tickling of the leaves and the rough texture of the ground could almost bother you if you weren't so lost in pleasure. He got even rougher, if that was possible, banging his hips against your ass so hard that made your moans shaky and your eyes start tearing up.
He loved whenever he gave you so much pleasure that you cried on his cock, the sight of thick tears running down your cheeks only fueling his twisted desires for you.
“Aww, wha's the matter, sunshine?” He mocked you, his voice coming out a bit louder than he expected. His piercing blue eyes looked around for a moment, searching for any threats but never stopping railing you. When he found none, he fully returned his attention to you, noticing the way your moans had practically dissipated and your had your eyes shut tight, a clear sign that you were dangerously close to cumming.
“Gunna cum fer daddy?” The volume of his groans and grunts getting harder and harder to hold back. You weren't able to speak with his hand pressed against your mouth and almost couldn't breathe with his big bicep wrapped around your throat, but you managed to nod slightly.
“Fuck, 'm gunna cum!” His needy voice filled your empty mind and you felt his hips stuttering when the rhythm of his thrusts started faltering. “Gunna fill ya up, make ya heavy w' ma babies.” You widened your eyes out, it was the first time he ever said something like that. But you were willing to give that man all he wanted, make his every wish come true like your life depended on it. You wouldn't say no to him and honestly, the thought of caring his children strangely turned you on even further. A faint smirk managed to creep on your face.
“Ya wan' tha', beautiful? Ya wan' Daddy ta make ya pregnant, hm?” How could you ever say no to him when the neediness in his voice was so obvious?
“P-please, fuck a baby into me.” The strangled sound of your voice while you begged him to fill you up was the fuse for him to finally start shooting ropes of cum into your velvety walls. Your tight pussy clenched around his cock as you weren't able to stop your own orgasm from dominating all your senses. It was like the world stopped spinning and the whole Universe contributed to make that moment perfect.
As both of you came down from your highs, Daryl gently brushed a strand of hair off your cheek, tugging it behind your ear to place a soft kiss to your temper. In that moment, the sounds of your labored breathing as you struggled to catch your breath was all that could've been heard until he let out a light chuckle.
“Can't believe we did this.” You could hear a smile in his voice while he pressed his cheek against the back of your head for a last time before adjusting his position, sitting down on the dirt and gently grabbing your arms, helping you do the same. Even though you were in the middle of the woods, you couldn't care less about it. All you wanted was to be in Daryl's strong embrace. “But I'm glad we did” You whispered, snuggling his chest.
<end of flashback>
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~4 months later~
It still felt vivid.
It's like you could still feel his love from 4 months ago, the way he groped your body and made love to you like it was the last time. How ironic, if somebody told you that was actually the last time, you would have laughed right in their face. Now, as you unwrapped the towel off your naked body and tossed it aside to stare at yourself into the mirror, you wondered if you'd made the right choice, if you really should've let the heat of the moment get the best of you.
Your belly was round and your bellybutton was puffing out, an unusual look to you but it's been your reality for the past 4 months. You didn't really know how to feel about it. You were happy to be the one having the privilege to carry Daryl's baby, but at the same time it still felt so new and strange to you. And the way he felt so distant since the day when he knocked you up was not helping you feel any better about it.
He wasn't exactly neglectful of your needs as a pregnant woman. He was always around you, making sure you were safe, helping you through the symptoms of pregnancy, holding your hair up whenever you threw up. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn't.
4 months ago Daryl used to be so eager for you, always so thirsty for you. And now, he just left you aching for his touch. Whenever you tried to initiate some intimacy, he turned you down, leaving you confused at his strange behavior. He definitely wasn't the type of guy to refuse sex, at least not after knowing you, so you started wondering if you were the problem.
The stretch marks on your belly were getting more and more obvious as the time passed, your breasts all swelled up with milk. You gained some weight, and as you leaned in closer to check on your face on the mirror, you could see how round your face was getting.
Disgust.
That's what you felt when you looked at yourself. You were so sure your looks were the reason why Daryl wanted nothing to do with your body ever since you got pregnant. As that feeling filled up your whole body, you quickly started putting some clothes on, not able to look at yourself like that not even for one more second. Maybe he didn't like you in dresses, you wondered, trying to find a reasonable motive for his absence when it came to the moments of intimacy between you two that used to be so frequent and special in your relationship. Anyways, loose dresses were all that fit your body as your belly grew bigger and bigger each day.
It just broke your heart. The feeling of helplessness took over you as thick tears ran down your face, smearing the makeup you started to put on to see if it would make him even just a little bit interested in you. But just as all your other attempts, it was useless. You brought your soft palm to your mouth to muffle your sobs, but that only reminded you of how Daryl used to do the same exact thing to muffle your moans when he loved your body. More and more tears streamed down your cheeks as you reminisced your last time together like that.
You made a decision. You didn't want to suffer like that anymore, so you decided that you were gonna try to get his attention for the last time before shutting down completely. You didn't wanna give his love up, but you were so tired of practically begging for him only for him to brush you off every time. You sighed and looked at yourself on the mirror for the last time, wiping your tears away and taking a deep breath before going about your day.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~Later that same day~
It was dark and Daryl still hadn't come home from his run. He was out scavenging, or hunting, you weren't even sure since you didn't bother to ask much. You had promised yourself that you were going to try to be intimate with him one last time, but that day he just vanished, leaving you waiting for him all day until you gave up waiting. You weren't only disappointed, you were almost angry at him, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. But who were you trying to fool? That didn't make you feel better at all and you weren't sure if he noticed it.
It was happening again, that one familiar knot started forming in your throat as your lips pouted and you pulled the blanket over your head, feeling embarrassed at your own vulnerability. You brought a hand to your own belly, gently stroking it. Oh, how you loved that little bundle of happiness that was growing inside you. But at the same time, you felt so strange about it. You loved your baby, that's for sure, but you felt like it was the reason why Daryl didn't want you anymore. At the same time it made you hopeful of a new beginning in life, it was reminder of the day when Daryl stopped finding you attractive, even remotely.
Once again you weren't able to hold your sobs back, but this time, you were forced to abruptly swallow them down when you heard the creak sound of the door being gently pulled open. You knew who it was, and you almost wish you didn't.
“Pumpkin'?” Daryl's quiet voice filled the room as he called you that stupid nickname he only used when he knew you were feeling down. You didn't answer.
Light footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer to the bed before you felt the weight of his body on the edge of the mattress. “Y/N, hun'?” He called for you again, but when he got no answer for the second time, he reached for you, gently touching your arm from over the blanket.
“What do you want?" Your tone sounded a bit harsher than you intended to, but you didn't care. He sighed.
“I think we need ta talk, pumpkin'” He voice, making you even more frustrated.
“Quit calling me that, alright?” The muffled sound of your voice reached his ear, and he flinched a little at your sudden aggressiveness, removing his hand from you.
He was silent for a moment, digesting your strange reaction after speaking again with an even softer tone. “Aigh'.” He sighed. “Listen, Y/N...” It's like he was struggling to form a sentence. He was never really the type of person to have the right words or to know what to say to comfort somebody, but he tried nonetheless.
“I need ta know wha's happenin' if ya wan' me ta help.” He muttered. You almost felt guilty at the way you were treating him, but you had enough.
“Ugh, Daryl.” The way you said his name had a hint of scorn, a clear reflexion of the troubled feelings in your heart. You finally pulled the blanket off your face, lifting your body up to sit down on the mattress in a quick and almost aggressive motion. “Who the fuck said I need your help? Just leave me alone, ignore me like you always do.” You spitted out, looking deep into Daryl's widened out eyes. “I don't want you here.” You continued. You knew damn well you were saying all that because you thought that's how he felt, like some sort of revenge, but your heart was broken because of him. It was his fault and you were tired of pretending everything was okay. “Why don't you go fuck some other slut out there? Maybe they're better, thinner, prettier than me!” Your tone was filled with hurt as you voiced your insecurities. “Maybe you should be with them once and for all.” You practically whispered that last line, muttering under your breath.
The truth was you started considering the possibility of Daryl having an affair behind your back ever since you got pregnant. And you just couldn't take it, you couldn't help the way your heart shattered at the thought of Daryl putting his hand on another woman, making her feel good just how he used to do when he still loved you. You were so sure he hadn't left you yet just because he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he left a pregnant woman behind. You knew that was the only reason was he still bothered to even talk to you.
Daryl was so dumbfounded by your attitude, since you were usually such a sweet and caring person, that he freezed. He didn't know what to say or do, so he just sit there, looking obviously negativity affected by your harsh words, wondering what the hell did he do to deserve that kind of treatment.
“Y/N-” He started talking, but you were having none of it. You spent so long begging him attention that now you just didn't want it anymore. When he threatened to scoop closer in a final attempt to ease things out, you surprised him by pushing him away from you with your hand pressed on his chest. “Get out!" You practically yelled. That was the most shocked you've ever seen Daryl's face before. After a moment, he averted his gaze to the floor, looking lost in thought before standing up and nodding slowly, knowing better than to push you harder. He walked to the door and closed it behind him, finally leaving you alone as you wanted him to. Or at least that's what you thought.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ *One week later*
You haven't seen Daryl since your last one-sided argument. If you missed him before, now the feeling got even worse. Ever since he closed that door a week ago, you haven't even heard of him. Maybe he'd left you for good. But could you blame him? You literally kicked him out of your life like it didn't matter. But after all, he was the one that made it feel like it didn't matter. That's what you had to keep feeling yourself, trying to comfort your poor soul or make yourself feel any less guilty. It didn't really work, though.
You tried. When he was gone for the first day, you wasted no time before trying to make it up to all the time you lost longing for him. You flirted with random men and women, trying to catch a glimpse of that feeling you used to get when Daryl gave you attention, but it wasn't the same, it didn't feel remotely similar. Maybe pushing him away like that was a mistake, maybe you had really lost him.
But fuck it. You were pregnant with his baby and he still had the gut to leave you behind. You had every single right to be mad and to try to restart your life, this time away from him. Even though it had been only one week, it felt like an eternity, every second he wasn't there made you feel every cell on your body begging for him, but you couldn't give in.
Sigh.
Spencer. You noticed the way he looked at you before and after you got pregnant. His gaze didn't change, he still licked his lips and looked you up and down with that stupid smirk on his face everytime you walked by. He was often the reason for arguments between you and Daryl when you were still together, but now, there was nothing stopping you. Not that you were attracted to him exactly, to be honest, he kind of annoyed you, but you just wanted to try. You just wanted to give yourself a chance to be loved, actually loved, not only for your looks. Deep inside, you knew you were just needy to feel something, anything, but you couldn't be blamed for wanting to feel okay after such a long time of feeling neglected.
You turned your head to search for him just to notice he was already staring from afar. You turned your head to face forward again, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the way he looked at you. Now that Daryl was gone, that type of behavior wasn't unusual coming from Spencer. He got even more spunky than before, flirting with you every single time he had the opportunity to. You swallowed your pride, trying to convince yourself that you were actually into him, taking a moment to decide whether or not to approach him and try something. You knew he wouldn't reject you, you just needed to dominate your heart that was still very much in love with Daryl and move on with your life, and maybe trying something with someone new was the first step to finally get over him.
As you gathered up the nerve to walk over to Spencer, slowly turning your body, you gasped in surprise noticing that he was already standing behind you. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear him approaching you.
“Easy there, doll.” He uttered. It felt weird to have anyone else that wasn't Daryl calling you pet names, but you quickly shook those thoughts away, trying to focus on the present. “Hey.” You answered, sounding significantly more uninterested than you meant to.
“What's eating you?” He pondered with a hint of playfulness in his voice and that stupid grin once again when he noticed your stiffness.
“Nothing.” You faked a smile. “What you been up to?” You tried to remain polite but flirty at the same time, trying your best to cover up how much you found him annoying. It was for the best, you thought. You just needed to adapt.
“Well...” He came closer. You had to fight all the urges to step away. “You know, the usual. I was just...” His fingers brushed your cheek before tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. Too close. But you continued playing along as he resumed his speech. “... Admiring your beauty.” God, could he get any cornier than that? It's like everyone that wasn't Daryl just looked so stupid trying to get your attention. There was you again, thinking about the archer. You sighed, failing to mask your lack of interest towards Spencer, but you managed to speak either way.
“Uh... Thanks...” You scratched the back of your head, feeling uncomfortable at his advances, but you tried to remind yourself that that whole thing meant a new start.
He looked so full of himself when he puffed his chest and had the audacity to say: “Can I follow you home?” You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?” For the first time since you acknowledged his presence, he actually had your attention.
“Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams.” He said that as if it was the most genius thing one could say. You had to make physical effort not to throw up or burst out laughing right there and then. The hell was that supposed to mean? Were you really the type of woman to fall for corny pick-up lines? But... You didn't really had other options. You had to give him a chance, maybe he was the one.
Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, so you just stood there with a stupid fake smile on your face. Spencer must've interpreted that as an invitation, because he leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You two weren't even 3 minutes into that conversation and he was already all over you. You wondered if that whole situation was awkward just for you, because he behaved as if he had you wrapped tight around his finger.
You really, really wanted to start running right away from him, but you were paralyzed, trying to decide if you should stay or go. But before you could make up your mind, he pulled you in by the back of your head, connecting your lips together.
Ugh.
It was probably the most awkward kiss of your life, as if you just forgot how to kiss in that moment. You widened your eyes out at the uncalled situation, and as he licked, bit and kissed your lips, yours remained stiff, like he was kissing you but you weren't kissing him. You felt deeply disgusted. What were you doing? Just like your lips, your arms were rigid on your sides, but his hands were roaming all over your body. You felt assaulted, even though you were allowing him to do that.
You wondered how the hell you ended up there: pregnant, with a missing boyfriend and making out with some douchebag out of emotional deprivation. In that moment, it finally clicked, you were just trying to fill the hole Daryl's absence left in your heart, and putting up with Spencer's audacious manners was no way of dealing with grief.
You finally pushed him away, accidentally sounding too annoyed. “See you around.” You spitted out before turning around and leaving him standing there in confusion, or maybe confidence, you didn't know since you didn't bother to study his reaction before quickly entering the house you were settled in in Alexandria.
You closed the door behind you, pressing your hands on your face, fighting the urge to scream and let all that frustration out. You slowly slid your back against the wooden door until your bottom reached the floor. If one word could describe you right now, it was helpless. For the hundredth time in the past few months, you started crying. It was like it was all you knew how to do since you lost control of your life. Oh, how you regretted that one moment 4 months ago where you slipped, causing your life to be destroyed right before your eyes while not being able to do a thing about it. Now not only you felt ugly, but you felt ugly and lonely. Your sobs got louder and louder as you wrapped your arms around your legs, lowering your head to press your forehead to your knees.
Knock-knock
Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door. You abruptly interrupted your crying, feeling embarrassed at the possibility that someone's heard you like that. After a few seconds, you heard another knock. You sighed.
“Leave me alone...” You muttered loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. You knew it was probably Carol coming to visit, maybe bringing you some cookies or something like that to make you feel better. It was so sweet of her, but you hated how everyone was treating you ever since Daryl disappeared. You just couldn't take the look in their eyes, the so obvious pity they felt. After all, you were a recently abandoned mother, and Carol along with your other group mates, just wanted to be there for you. Little did they know they were just making it worse.
When you were starting to think the person finally left, you heard a third knock on the door. Whoever was there, didn't seem to be giving up soon. You almost felt grateful for having someone give a shit about you, but deep down you just wanted to be left alone. You breathed out for a last time before standing up with difficulty due to your heavy pregnant belly and reaching for the doorknob, contemplating whether you should let them in or not. Then, you turned it and slowly pulled the door open.
Your eyes remained glued to the floor, not having the courage to look into anyone's eyes right now. Then, to your surprise, a familiar hoarse voice made its way to your ears.
“The hell was tha'?” You swiftly lifted you chin up, locking eyes with him, the man who left you when you needed him the most. He definitely had seen your pathetic attempt of feeling appreciated with Spencer. For a millisecond, you were actually relieved to see Daryl, but quickly enough anger flooded your senses once again. It's like it was all coming back to you, the same exact feeling from one week ago when you saw him for the last time making your blood boil once again. How did he dare to disappear into the world and then come back as if nothing happened?
You didn't wanna waste no more time with him and that situation anymore, it was just too nerve-wracking and you just needed a break from all that. So you aggressively pushed the door aiming to slam it on his face, but he was more cunning and placed a hand on the way, stopping it from closing all the way.
“Please, Y/N!” He almost shouted, visibly impatient. You turned your back and started walking further into the house, ignoring his calls for you.
“Can ya please just talk ta me?!” He continued, following you around. You remained trying to disconsider his presence.
“Why r ya doin' this fer, woman?!” Now, he finally yelled. It was the first time he ever raised his voice at you. In that moment, you felt like any hint of the caring man you once loved had faded away forever. The feeling hit you like a truck and you stopped your angry steps, turning around so your back was facing him. You couldn't stop your tears from falling not even if you wanted to, and suddenly, all your anger was replaced with a deep sadness. You weren't even trying to muffle your loud noises, sniffing and sobbing hard. When he saw you like that, he decided to just drop it and pretend like he hadn't seen you kissing that bastard. It felt a sacrifice to him, but he didn't want to make you feel worse than you already did.
For a few moments, Daryl gave you some space, not trying to startle you or make things worse. Then, after a while of silence and almost feeling as if you were alone in the room, you felt a warm breath hitting your ear. Shivers ran down your spine, something you hadn't felt in such a long time.
He studied your reaction, and when he felt it was okay to touch you, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back closer to his chest. That made you cry even harder, the sting in your heart getting worse. But at the same time, it felt so good to finally be in his embrace once again. You had missed his strong arms and his warmth so bad, it was a mix of confusion and relief. You wanted to push him away, yell at him, tell him to go, but the second his scent of cigarettes and wet grass filled your nose, you knew you wouldn't be able to. That's how much you missed him, though you weren't ready to asmit it just yet.
“Jus'... lemme talk to ya..." He whispered, placing a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. And just like that, you melted in his hands. You had no idea what to say, but you were willing to listen to whatever came out of his mouth.
“I jus' wanna know wha' happened. I understand, 'm s'pposed ta know and 'm a dick fer not knowing, but... If ya don' talk ta me, I... I jus' won' know how ta make things righ'.” He was so gentle with his words, so caring. He sounded actually worried, making the situation so puzzling to you. You opened to mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it.
“Ya said sumthin' 'bout me goin' out with other women...” He spoke after a few seconds. “Wha'... Wha' was that all about? I would never...” Daryl didn't really have a way with his words, but you could see he was putting effort into talking to you and trying to fix things. The way he kept you tightly into his hug and his fingers brushed gently against your arm were actually being helpful, and your sobs slowly faded away as your tears stopped falling.
“You don't want me anymore." That's all you managed to speak before you felt tears threatening to fall once again, but you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm. You couldn't see his face, but Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“Wha'd'ya mean, hun'?” Those pet names never failed to make you weak in the knees. “I couldn't ever, ever stop wantin' ya. Ever.” He whispered the last word. As he did so, he traveled one hand down your plump belly, caressing it ever so gently. It almost made you want to cry again.
“Then where did you go? Why'd you leave me? Why'd ya even come back?” Even though you stopped crying, your voice was still unstable.
“...'Cuz ya asked me ta and I... I wanted ta respect yer choice. 'M here now 'cuz... I can't live withoutcha. I... need a second chance.” Now, he was the one with a shaky voice. Seeing him like that broke your heart.
“I told you to leave because I didn't wanna force you to be with me. I didn't...” You gulped. “I didn't wanna baby trap you or something like that, I don't know...” You sniffed. Throughout that whole conversation, you kept your arms stiff. But then, you lifted one of them to wipe your nose with back of your hand.
“...I don' get it.” He mouthed. You sighed, finally turning to look at him. After such a long time, looking into his eyes was a remedy to your infirm heart.
“Look, Daryl, I know I'm not in my best shape, alright? I know this whole 'baby' thing changed me, I know that my body ain't the same anymore. All these stretch marks, my face, my belly, I know it all deforms me and...” He just stood there with an unreadable expression. “...And you have every reason not to find me attractive anymore, and I'm just so sorry that I kept pushing you into having sex with me, I should've just given you some space, I...” Those stubborn tears you've been trying to hold back finally get the best of you. “I'm sorry that I snapped at you, I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch, you... You shouldn't see me like this, and... And I-”
Daryl interrupted your babbling nonsense, grabbing your face with both of his hands and pulling you in for what felt like your first kiss. It was probably the most gentle you've ever been kissed in your whole life. You didn't know you craved the warmth of his calloused hands against your wet cheeks that badly until you had it. Everytime a thick tear dared to run down your beautiful face, he quickly wiped it away with his thumbs. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly broke the kiss, but remained with his forehead pressed against yours.
“Yer the most beautiful woman 've ever seen.” His sweet whispers made you finally feel safe after feeling lost for so long. “N there's nuthin', nuthin' in this world tha' could ever change tha'.” You were left speechless as he contradicted you. “If only ya knew how badly I wanted ta touch ya... It's not easy seein' you walk 'round all heavy with ma babies, knowin' I was the one tha' made ya like this n not bein' able to eat you up alive... God, ya look so...” He let out a guttural grunt. “...So fuckin' hot.”
Your mind was rushing. So this whole time he didn't think you looked terrible? He actually... Liked it? In your head, it made no sense.
“If you wanted me so badly, then why did you reject me over and over again?” There was a very obvious hint of hurt in your voice, like you were trying hard to believe his words but your own insecurities were stopping you. He averted his gaze from your eyes for the first ever since you broke the kiss. For a moment, he looked in a contemplative state.
“I got scared.” He admitted. Your eyes narrowed.
“...Of what?” You asked. What could ever make Daryl, the most brave man you know, scared?
“Hurtin' ya.” You tilted your head, still not convinced of his reasons. Your silence served as a cue for him to resume speaking. “Seein' you like this... I jus' wanted ta protect you. I... I never thought I'd ever have a child of my own 'n... I don' know how ta say this, but...” His thumb brushed against your cheek once again. “...I thought ya were doin' this fer me. I thought maybe, I dunno... Maybe you felt like ya had to be there fer me, y'know, sexually...” He was stuttering and struggling to speak his mind. “I felt like if I said yes... I'd be forcin' ya.” He placed a peck on your soft lips. “But I do wan' ya. 'Ve been wantin' ta have ma way with ya fer so long...” He closed his eyes.
“Then what's stopping you?” You challenged him. You almost felt stupid for thinking he didn't want you that whole time and he was actually just trying to protect you. As those words left your mouth, his eyes snapped open, and suddenly, they had a different aura to them. They were darker.
I'm a swift motion, Daryl pulled you in for another kiss, but this time, a more needy one. Though his touch showed he was aching for you, it was still gentle. He didn't wanna hurt you, after all you were still pregnant.
He gently bit down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before letting it snap back. His piercing gaze found yours and the way he smirked at you made your body tremble in anticipation.
His hands found the strap of your dress, slightly fidgeting with the tied bow strap over your shoulder just to tease you. And when he finally undid it, your dress slid down your body and onto the floor, revealing your semi-bareness to him.
That's when it kicked again, your self-consciousness taking a hold of you and in a flash, you felt the urge to cover yourself up. Daryl hadn't seen you naked ever since the last time you were intimate together, you two even stopped showering at the same time due to all of the previous misunderstandings. It almost felt like one of those dreams where you're completely naked in school, vulnerably standing in front of the judging eyes of everyone else, even though you were still in your underwear. As you felt your face warming up in embarrasement, you shifted your hands to your swollen breasts and your legs instinctively closed.
Your shy manners didn't go unnoticed by Daryl's attentive eyes. “Hun'...” He brought his hands to your own, softly stroking them until you eased your grasp on your breasts. “Ya can trust me.” He murmured. You took a deep breath and you finally let your hands fall to the side, fully revealing your bra to his sight. A smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth and he looked lost in your beauty.
“God, look at those tits...” He said mainly to himself. The way your breasts were all swollen, all heavy with milk awakened desires within him he didn't even know he had. He reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, removing it and tossing it aside.
He wondered how he was able to deny his attention to those beauties for so long. If he had properly talked to you about his intentions from the beginning, probably none of that misinterpretation would've happened, he thought. But that time wasn't one to mourn, but to cherish. Without warnings, he grasped one of your nipples with his mouth like a starving man while gently but firmly squeezing your other one. You let out a small squeak of pleasure, blushing at his sudden eagerness. Some of your milk leaked, and he was quick to lap at the liquid, wasting none of it. The sweet and mild taste of your essence coated his tongue, sending shock waves of ecstasy all the way down to his cock and in no time, his pants started feeling way too tight. But in that moment, he just wanted to make you feel good and appreciated, so he payed little to no mind to his forming erection.
“Ya taste so fuckin' good.” He groaned against your skin. You were too embarrassed to say anything, but you loved when he talked dirty like that to you, it made your pussy even wetter if that was even possible. He kept his attention to your breasts for a while, teasing, flicking and sucking on them until your nipples felt sore. Then, he made a trail of kisses from your under boob until his lips reached your belly button, slowly sinking down on his knees. He placed soft kisses all over your round belly.
“Look at ya, carryin' ma babies like a good girl.” He looked up at you for a moment, biting his lips at you. You gave him a shy smile, clearly affected by his sweet praising, and he found you so adorable like that. He'd been wanting to put his hands on you for so, so long and he finally had the opportunity to. You looked prettier than ever and he was determined to convince you.
“Let's get ya settled, yea?” And with that, he carefully picked you up bridal style, paying attention not to hurt you. He carried you to the couch, laying you down on it on your back, too eager to go upstairs and to your room, he wanted it there and then. Now, feeling a little more confident thanks to all his praising, your legs instinctively spread themselves out for him, revealing a wet stain on your white panties, clear sign of your arousal.
That sight made a smirk creep on his face, his hands roaming up and down your legs as he pulled them even further apart. “Is this all fer me?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. You were so visibly surrendered to him, he could see how much you missed him because he shared the same exact longing.
His hands slowly made their way down to your core, his thumb gently rubbing your clit in circling motions over the fabric of your panties. You were so desperate to feel anything that you felt like his most subtle touch could make you cum in the same second. Still, you wanted more. You needed more.
“D-Dar...” You muttered under your breath, throwing your head back as his finger starting working your clit a bit faster and adding a little more pressure. “Wha' is it, doll, hm? Tell me what ya need.” His teasing words only made you more hungry for him. “Mmm...” You protested, struggling to put your desires into words. “C'mon, jus' say the word and I'll give it ta ya.” He encouraged you with the sweetest tone, slowing down his motions against your extremely sensitive clit just to tease you.
“Eat my fucking cunt like you mean it.” You spitted out, your voice all shaky with need, and even you were surprised at your own bold words.
“Don' need ta tell me twice.” He said before pulling your panties to the side in one swift motion and diving into your wetness, quickly starting his assault on your clit and lapping at your folds. He practically buried his face into you, eating you out like it was the last time. Your back arched in that same second and you already felt embarrassingly close to orgasming. He noticed the way you squirmed and moaned for him, grasping his hair with both hands and humping his face, smearing your slickness all over his handsome features.
And he let you use him for your pleasure however you pleased. That night was about you and about making up to all that wasted time. “D-Daryl...!” Your tone was one of warning. You were barely two minutes in but you could already feel the first orgasmic contractions forming in your lower belly. The way you said his name, he knew damn well you were about to make a mess on his face, and he was all in for it.
You threw your head back and let out a loud high-pitched moan as you coated his tongue with your wetness, and all he could do was hum against your sensitive skin, sending vibrations all over your cunt and intensifying the sensation. Despite your first signs of overstimulation, he continued enthusiastically lapping at your juices until you were a quivering mess under his tongue. You had to manually give his head a very gentle push so you could have a break from that intense pleasure. You chuckled at his excitement to please you. If you had ever felt insecure about any of that before, you couldn't remember it.
He lifted his head up, placing tender kisses on your pregnant belly once again, stroking it lovingly. “Ya want me ta fuck ya, darlin'?” He said as he crawled up your body, getting face to face with you. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing his lips against yours in a sensual dance. “'M takin' that as a yes” He voiced with a hint of playfulness. The thought of being inside you made his cock throb even harder inside his pants, and he knew he just couldn't wait any longer. He reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and taking it off. Then, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing it down his thighs alongside with his black briefs just enough to free his cock.
Oh, you missed it so fucking badly. You two used to fuck like rabbits before, and after going 4 whole months without getting dicked down by your man, you were more than desperate to feel him. Now, you finally understood your pregnancy wasn't any type of obstacle for sharing pleasure with him.
You stared down at his now visible erection. He was girthy, and you could feel your cunt stretching out just by looking at him. A small droplet of pre-cum threatened to run down his length, from the tip all the way down to his full balls. When you averted your gaze to his face, you could see he was admiring you while you took in the sight of his cock. Your eyes got all sparkly in anticipation, sharing a knowing look with him. You didn't have to say anything and he was always brushing his tip on your slit.
He gently tapped your clit with his tip, watching closely for your reaction, his smirk not fading away not even for one second. Your pussy was so slippery with your wetness that when he pressed his cock against your slit, it went in with ease.
“Fuck.” You moaned in unison. The feeling of his cock going in for the first time was always one of your favorite parts of fucking Daryl. He tried to hold back a little, still careful not to hurt you since you were pregnant after all, but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he couldn't help but bury his whole cock inside you in one harsh thrust, yearning loud moans from both of you.
You didn't care at all if it hurt or not, you just needed to feel him inside you. He shut his eyes tight and it was obvious that he was fighting the urge to burst right in that same second. He gritted his teeth and leaned in to press his forehead against yours, slowly starting to move his hips. He wasn't exactly thrusting, it was more like humping his cock inside you, which made you grow more and more impatient. You needed him to pound you.
“P-please, Daryl, just... just fuck me already.” The clear frustration on your voice did it for him, and in no time, he started harshly banging his hips against yours, giving you no time to adjust to the pace. Squelching sounds, your moans and the sound of your skins slapping against each other filled the room in a dirty orchestra. The intense smell of sex made you dizzy.
You were so cock-hungry you could fuck that man for days straight without breaks, and as he gently groped your pregnant belly, you knew he wanted you just as much. You couldn't hold back a smile at the sensation of his palms and fingers gently caressing you, contrasting with his hard thrusts inside your pussy.
It was your favorite whenever he treated you like that, with a mix of tenderness and an urge to absolutely rail you. “Fuck, feels so fuckin' good inside this wet cunt.” The archer almost sounded vulnerable. “'M gunna give ya even more babies, princess.” He whispered, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual. The thought of feeling his warm load inside you again made your mind rush and once again, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high.
As the pleasure grew more intense, your tight walls clenched around Daryl's thick cock, making his legs tremble as he struggled to keep his composure. “Shit baby, if ya keep squeezin' me tight like tha' 'm not gunna last long.” He admitted through gritted teeth. “Don't hold back, give it to me.” Your encouragement words only fueled Daryl's desires even further.
You felt so full, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper, filling you up to the brim. He was still holding onto your round belly, gently not to hurt you, and when you clenched your cunt around him one last time, he moaned louder than ever before.
“Fuckin' take it!” His whole body was shaking as his orgasm coursed through his body. The sight of him like that was so sexy, so dirty and raw that you couldn't help but squirt all over his cock. You didn't even know you could do that, and Daryl looked just as surprised as you as you drenched his cock and lower belly with your arousal. He buried his length deep inside you one last time as the final spurts of his warm cum coated your insides, keeping that position.
“I love ya, Y/N. Dontcha ever forget that again, woman.” He said, placing sweet little pecks all over your face, making you giggle like a little child. “Yer stuck with me. Both of ya.” His hand never left your pregnant belly that whole time, and now, he gently brushed his thumb on it.
“I love you more.” You confessed, bringing a hand to his cheek to cup it, feeling the rough texture of his salt-and-pepper facial hair against your soft hand. As he slightly shifted his position with his cock still deep inside you, you felt how he was still rock hard and ready for you. After such a long waiting, he wasn't ready to stop just yet.
“Round two?” You asked, already predicting his answer.
“Fuck yeah.”
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a/n: hi there!! just passing by to thank you for reading this. i know it's not even close to perfect but it took me 10+ hours to write, so i really appreciate you if you read it this far! as i've said before, i'm a beginner writer, so i'm still on the process of adapting and i'm really thankful for all the support you've been showing me. see ya!
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