#not sure to tag this as suggestive or not even if it’s a slight making out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bubble-dream-inc · 1 year

Text

under your skin.

The last walk-in you expected to see in your tattoo parlor in one rainy day was a massive masked behemoth of a man. It came as even more of a surprise when you wanted to see him there again and again; and a final time when he kept coming back.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Tattoo artist reader

rbs greatly appreciated!

WC: 7K

a/n: listen, as a tattoo artist irl, the first thing i did when i discovered ghost had a tattoo was to think how i had to self indulge. i’d kill to tattoo this man personally. shoutout to @117s-girl, @somnibats and Eddie for the tremendous help when i had writer’s block, and @deafeningcat for the amazing beta read as always <3

tags: fluff, reader being horny for ghost, ghost being slightly ooc, mentions at verbal abuse, slightly suggestive and slight angst.

You remember the first time Simon Riley walked into your shop.

It was a cold and rainy day - like most days in Manchester - and you were idling by, doodling on a notebook by the front desk and listening to whatever was playing on the radio without paying it much attention. Glancing at the clock on the wall where the empty loveseat was, you were starting to wonder if you should go get something to eat while you waited, when the bell on the front door chimed, indicating someone had come in.

At first, you thought he was going to rob you, and in a second you were already kissing your expensive equipment goodbye in your head, cursing the fact you had decided to buy that pricey tattoo machine you were eyeing for so long just last week, but those thoughts vanished when the figure just stood in front of you. Silently, you eyed the skull mask and sunglasses that covered his face, wondering what was this guy’s deal, since it was way too grey outside to be wearing any sort of eyewear. Trying not to let his huge stature looming over you be intimidating, you were about to say something when his gruff voice cut the silence.

“You take walk-ins?”

So he really was a client, you thought. Rummaging through the notebooks in the desk, you quickly glanced at your schedule, seeing your next client wasn’t supposed to come for a few good hours, and decided you were curious about the masked man.

“Well, it depends. What were you thinking of getting?”

He stood still for a moment, and you wondered if he heard you at all, but suddenly he reached for something in the pocket of his jeans, extending a neatly folded piece of paper in front of you. His voice filled the silence again as you unfolded the paper, and you found the thick accent oddly calming coming from him.

“I want it to be a sleeve. Covering my left forearm.”

You opened it to find a surprisingly intricate design, and it seemed like whoever did it made it with the intention of actually getting it as a sleeve. Not taking the masked guy for an artist, you found a signature on the bottom of the page, a chicken scratch that read “Tommy Riley”. Usually, you’d make light conversation and ask about the design, especially when it looked important, but something told you not to pry into this man’s business. Assuming he’s this “Tommy” fella, you just smiled politely, deciding you could fit the first session of it into your work day.

“Sure. It should take a few sessions, though, is that alright with you?” He simply nodded, wordlessly, and you decided that was good enough of an answer.

Leading him into the procedure room after getting his approval on the price, you made sure to give him a consent form for him to fill out and sign while you traced the design to a stencil - making sure to cut the right adjustments to wrap around his visibly huge forearm. You wondered if he was a weightlifter of sorts, or maybe just a gym rat.

Transferring the stencil to his skin and prepping your materials for tattooing was a completely silent ordeal, and your client seemed more than content in just letting the silence linger for the remainder of your encounter, and even if you were getting antsy by it, you were glad he didn’t comment on how visibly nervous you were when you wrapped your gloved hands around his arm to make the stencil stick - feeling his warmth and the protruding veins even through the latex that covered your own skin.

“You have any other tattoos?” You asked, stepping on the machine pedal to make sure your tattoo machine was at the right voltage while he got comfortable setting his arm on the arm rest.

“No.”

“Cool.” God, you felt awkward. “I’m gonna start now, tell me if it hurts too much.”

“Right.”

You felt stupid saying that to a man that had arms the size of your head and was at least 6,4. As expected, he didn’t even flinch when the needles touched his skin, but you weren’t about to give up on your mission to make conversation with your mysterious client. While tracing it with the machine, you analyzed the design a bit closer.

“That’s some interesting art.” It wasn’t. It was tacky as hell, all missiles and skulls and other edgy elements, but you were not going to say that to him. “You like guns?”

“Something like that.”

You gave up trying to chat him up shortly after. Even with the weird dad sunglasses on, you could still feel his stare on you, unnerving at best, and you wondered what was up with the mask. In your line of work, you’d met some interesting individuals, and you considered your shop a safe haven for all outcasts and misfits; you’d known, after all you did decide to pursue tattooing as a career. Still, something about this man - Tommy? - made you feel an itch to see what lied beyond the mask - both figuratively and literally. At least it would take a few more sessions to finish his piece, hopefully he’d say more than five words at once to you at some point.

It took you two hours to finish tracing it, and you deemed it was good to go and begin shading another day. Getting into professional mode, you gave him directions on how to care for it and asked him to come back after a month to start on shading it, and, as expected, he only nodded to you. Going back to the front desk, he handed the bills containing the price you had settled on, and turned around, leaving without another word. Out of curiosity, you picked up his file. The first thing you noticed was that he had left the “Occupation” space blank.

The second thing you noticed was that the signature read “Simon Riley”.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Simon didn’t come back after a month.

A good few months later, you just figured he’d given up and was now walking around with an unfinished tattoo, or, worse, he had picked another artist to finish the job, and the thought made you angrier than you’d like to admit. Despite your annoyance, whenever you’d organize your clients files, you’d find yourself lingering on his, weirdly curious and feeling like he was a puzzle you were dying to solve.

A long time passed - you don’t know how much, but you’d say it was more than a year - before he showed up again, and, once again, it was unannounced. You were finishing a client’s tattoo when your friend - and coworker - knocked on the procedure room door, and when you’d told her to come in, she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“There’s a guy in the waiting room asking for you. Said you were doing his sleeve…” She quietly announced, and you just stared at her quizzically, waiting for her to continue. "He 's…Big. Tall guy with a creepy skull mask.”

She whispered the last part so he wouldn’t hear it, even if he was a good corridor distance away and the metal music coming from the radio would drown it out, and after a few moments you realized she was talking about Simon. You remember answering something to her and finishing the tattoo on auto pilot before heading to the front desk, and, sure enough, Simon was standing there menacingly, in his whole huge aura, seemingly unbothered by how his height, frame, and mask were making the other clients in the shop regard him with uneasy looks. His eyes met yours once you showed up. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the sunglasses anymore, and his fabric mask had been replaced by a simpler balaclava and a hard skull mask on top that you hoped was made out of a synthetic material.

Now bare, his gaze revealed its intensity to you, the dark hues following your every move in a way you supposed you could find intimidating if a small, very weird part of you didn’t find it attractive. He seemed tired, eyes cast downwards and with bags surrounding it, and you wondered what had happened when he was gone.

“Hey.” You breathed, straining your neck to look up at him and completely forgetting about the other people in the room. “Riley, right? I’m guessing you’re here for the sleeve?”

He seemed slightly surprised you remembered his name, but the impression of seeing emotion in his eyes was gone in an instant as he simply nodded at you.

“Yeah. You got time?”

You didn’t. But you’d make it work, you weren’t about to send away the man who had, for some reason, plagued your thoughts so much for the last months.

“I got a few more clients, but if you don’t mind waiting, i can fit you in?”

You hated how uneasy you sounded, your hands fiddling with a stray loose line of your ripped jeans as you waited for his answer.

“That works.”

With his gruff reply, he turned and sat down in the waiting area, and you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

The hours went by, the clients came and went to and from your procedure room as well as your colleague’s, yet, every single time you left the room to go to the front desk have a sip of water or check your next client’s name, Simon was still there, patiently waiting, the loveseat seeming oddly small under him, and his all black, dark getup blending perfectly with the black walls of the studio. If anything, it made you even more intrigued, since most people would have left by now, considering how long a tattoo takes and he could just come back another day, but he didn’t show any signs of having anywhere else to be. The people traffic started to wind down, and soon enough, you dismissed your last client of the day as you were the only artist left in the shop and the sun had already hid in the horizon.

“Glad to see you again. I was wondering if you had gotten another artist.” You laughed somewhat nervously, taking a breather by the glass door while Simon finished filling out another responsibility form, and you had to ignore how nervous you felt when he turned to glance at you with those dark and intense eyes of his.

“Got busy, that’s all.” He murmured, setting the pen down on the front desk and turning to the wall where your flash pieces were displayed. “And I like your work.”

Feeling your eyes widen, you tried to conceal how flustered the comment made you feel behind a cool chuckle, but something told you Simon could see right through you. Going back inside and pointing him towards the procedure room, you briefly glanced at the fresh consent form and realized he filled out his occupation this time, the words “Army” surprisingly not phasing you one bit.

Simon was the same as the last time, quiet as a grave. But, seeing as you were wrapping up the shading quicker than you’d anticipated, you decided this time you would not let this mysterious man walk out of your studio - possibly forever - without at least getting one piece of information out of him.

“So…does it mean anything?” You nodded towards his arm, trying to play it cool. Being in this field, you quickly realized not everyone gets tattoos that mean anything, and most of them are really just for aesthetics, but the signature below the original design had you wondering, even if the newfound information that he was in the military made the over the top missiles and dog tags inked on his arm make a lot more sense. He stared at you from behind the mask for a moment, making you feel queasy under his stare and suddenly very aware of how much you were draped over his arm trying to get the shading on one particular skull to look just right.

“Yeah.” After a few moments he replied, a wave of sudden relief washing over you upon realizing you had not, in fact, crossed a line. “My brother made it.”

“He’s quite the artist.”

“He really was.”

Oh.

You decided to drop the subject after the implication.

“And what branch are you in?” Not looking at him, you spoke in a low tone, too concentrated on the machine in your hands to realize you were maybe asking more than he was comfortable talking. “You know, uh, in the army.”

“Special Air Forces.” You realized he tensed almost imperceptibly, relaxing once you only hummed.

“Cool. I’d reckon you guys had tattoo parlors closer to base, though.”

“We do.” He huffed. “But I know the guys. Not nearly as clean as here.”

At that, you chuckled gently, missing the way Simon’s eyes softened at the sound.

You continued the piece in comfortable silence, distantly registering the pitter-patter of the rain that had just started falling on the street beyond the front doors. Finishing it up, faster than you would have liked, you decided the corny design looked good - really good - on him, and he might have been the only guy possible to pull it off, which could have been related to how big and strong his arms looked. Wrapping the tattoo in plastic film and reminding him to not keep it on for too long, you had to focus on acting professional and not let him know you were ogling at the recently inked piece of skin. The long sleeve shirt he had rolled up to his forearms did not help you one bit, nor did the way his eyes followed your every single movement.

When you got back to the front desk - relieved to find the rain had stopped - you expected Simon to just pay and leave silently the same way he did the last time, but he actually lingered, letting his eyes wander through the flash pieces displayed in a neat corkboard in the waiting room - this one with your name written on top. You actually don’t know when he got your name - something told you it was when he asked your coworker for you. He seemed quite interested in one particular design that had been gathering dust for a long time on the board, considering how big it was.

“See something you like?” You followed his gaze, realizing it was a ram skull chest piece you had completely forgotten about; it looked too dark and menacing for most people looking for walk-ins and flash tattoos. “That one was meant to be a chest piece. Works for the back, too.”

Simon studied it for a few moments. What was up with this guy and skulls? Finally, he turned to you.

“When can you do it?”

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The third time Simon Riley walked into your studio, it was, by far, the most memorable one.

Unsurprisingly enough, he had decided to set an appointment for the chest piece to be the last one of your day, a week later; whether he enjoyed the night time better or just wanted to not be bothered with other people around, that was a mystery to you. There was a third option in the back of your head, but you told yourself it was delusional, and your fascination with the masked man was, in fact, one sided. That didn’t stop you from greeting him with a cheery smile as you looked up from where you were doodling on your notebook on the front desk, pretty much like your first encounter. However, you didn’t think too much of what exactly the chest piece implied as you headed to your procedure room with Simon in tow. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you freezed for a second, holding up the carbon stencil in your hands.

“Uh, you might wanna…take off your shirt. It’ll be more comfortable for you.”

Preparing the stencil gel, you tried your best to ignore him and not let your eyes wander too much as he lifted the unnecessarily tight black t-shirt over his head, careful as to not remove the balaclava and skull mask combo, folding it neatly and setting the piece of cloth over your table before standing next to you in front of the full body mirror.

I’m a professional. I’m a professional. I’m a professional.

If you thought Simon was huge before, that was an understatement. 6,4 feet of pure, naked muscle stood inches away from your much smaller body, and you were extremely relieved to realize that he had, probably out of consideration for you, shaved his chest beforehand - the same couldn’t be said for the faint happy trail very clearly peeking from his jeans, sitting way lower on his hips than you’d like. Scolding yourself over and over for fawning like a horny teenager, you hoped the nervous tremble in your hands as you delicately smoothed the gel over his collarbones wasn’t as obvious as you felt it was. Even through the latex gloves you could feel the heat coming from his pecs, as well as a few minor scars that shouldn’t give you too much trouble. You decided to ignore the very visible and very big bullet scar on his side. As he adjusted his dog tags to hang behind his neck so as to not get in your way, you finally peeled the stencil off, trying to calm your frantic beating heart as he analyzed it in the mirror to make sure it was in the right placement.

It got worse when he actually laid on the tattoo table - comically dwarfed under his enormous frame. Sure, you had tattooed a fair share of chests along the years - both men’s and women’s - and it never really flustered you, after all, it was your job, seeing skin was a very big part of it. However, as you lowered your torso on the bed and tried to adjust your hand to sit as comfortably as possible on his chest, you thanked the gods it was such a big tattoo; you had no idea how you wouldn’t mess it up if it was a tiny one. But you doubted Simon would ever get a tiny tattoo. Above all, you could appreciate how he maintained his breathing slow and steady and, again, didn’t even flinch as the needles touched him, making you like him as a client even more.

“I’ve heard you guys in the army got…codenames?” You started, desperate to start some conversation before your intrusive thoughts won. “What do they call you?”

Slowly, you were getting used to his brief silence before answering you. It seemed like his way to decide if your question was worth answering or not, and you were glad he had found them all to be so far.

“Ghost.”

“Very fitting.”

You were surprised to hear him exhale in a way that resembled a very weak laugh, and you felt giddy knowing you made your ever so quiet and serious client laugh - or something like that. Feeling calmer, you continued the very big piece, strapping in for a long next couple of hours.

They passed quickly, your hand working almost in autopilot as you traced the tattoo’s lineart and made light conversation with Simon - Ghost. You learned he was a Lieutenant, liked bourbon and the mask never came off. Granted, it was mostly you speaking and him answering, but you were glad he was entertaining your nervous ramblings, and you were only slightly embarrassed to admit to yourself you found his southern British accent very soothing on his deep, gruffy voice. In turn, you told him a little more about yourself; why you got into tattooing and even a few funny stories from dealing with past clients.

Finally deciding it was enough strain on his skin for one session, you set your machine down and admired your work, smiling under your mask. Taking a generous amount of the tattooing balm on your fingers, you swallowed your nervousness before gently spreading the substance on his chest so it would heal nicely, not missing the way he relaxed under your touch. If you weren’t so busy panicking by having your hands on such a massive and attractive man, you could ponder on how he seemed to be enjoying that as much as you were. With your approval, he got up to examine the piece on the mirror, and you caught yourself staring into his strong, chiseled, and scarred back, before averting your eyes, choosing to focus instead on cleaning up the inky mess you made on your trolley. You once again went through the now familiar ordeal of him silently thanking you, paying, and leaving into the night.

As Simon Riley left the studio that day, carrying an unfinished piece of your work right on his chest, you realized something clearly had changed in the air between you two. You just had no idea if it was a good or bad thing.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The next time Simon showed up, a month later, you were stressed out of your mind.

You were booked, so you didn’t really have any open spots next to closing time the way he liked it, so he had to settle for coming a bit earlier than usual, which meant there were actually other people in the studio for once, including the one on the front desk yelling in your face.

You couldn’t really remember what he was yelling about, just that you were suddenly regretting your decision of working with people and wondering if it was worth it to stoop down low and insult him back the way he was doing to you. You figured the moment he started yelling about his already finished tattoo that it was most likely another scam attempt coming from him, but it didn’t really matter anymore once you zeroed in on the hulking figure that showed up unexpectedly behind your unpleasant client in the form of your masked savior. For a moment, you were scared things were going to get violent, but Simon didn’t have to do much. It took one glower from him, his gaze sharp enough to cut from way above the smaller man, and he was suddenly stuttering apologies and leaving the studio in a hurry. You ignored the looks the other people in the waiting room were giving the two of you, offering a tired, but extremely grateful smile, to Ghost.

“Hey, Riley.”

He was still staring at where the man had left, and the annoyance on his usually so stoic gaze came as a surprise to you.

“What happened?”

You were already heading into the procedure room, too shaken to deal with the stares of the people in the waiting room any longer, and shot him a sheepish look from over your shoulder.

“Just a rude client being difficult. Not the first time he gave me trouble, either, but it happens.”

Simon didn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he let it slide, for the moment. Heading into the room and closing the door behind you, the air fell into a familiar silence, broken only by the cluttering sounds as you set up your supplies, and, to you, your still frantic heartbeat in your ears by the less than pleasant interaction just a few minutes earlier. It was unlikely, given how observant he was, but you hoped Simon didn’t pick up on just how shaken you were. Still, you took a few moments to calm yourself down as you tested the machine with your feet; Simon had already made himself comfortable on the table, and soon enough you fell into the rhythm of inking him, the same way you had grown used to in those last few months. Focusing on a particularly stubborn piece of skin where the ink didn’t paint as easily, you were lost in thought when his voice pulled you back to reality.

“Are you scared of me?” You heard him ask quietly from above you, instantly knowing he was referring to the way your earlier client had run off on the sight of him. Pausing your ministrations, you looked up from his chest to find him already staring at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Since you were currently working on the details on his collarbone, you haven’t realized how close you actually were to his face, and suddenly you were hit with the realization you could feel his breath through both your masks; and an intoxicating scent of cigarette smoke and cologne. Caught in a trance by his dark gaze, you realized a little too late you were gawking and not really answering his question, which made you feel very glad for the surgical mask covering your suddenly very red face and flustered expression. Looking down to continue your work, you tried to find your words once again.

“Not really. I mean, the mask was off-putting at first, but I've had some odd people as clients. You’re cool, though. You remind me of those big, scary guard dogs, but in a good way.” Cringing at the lame answer, you felt like a kid talking to her crush in middle school all over again, and the huff-slash-chuckle that left Simon only made it worse. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t, and in your flustered stupor you couldn’t find any words either, so you just let the air around you fall into a comfortable silence over again. If it were anyone else, you’d be wary of the constant quietness, but, for some reason, Simon’s presence was enough to make you content, even if no words were exchanged.

Blacking out the parts that had to be inked was a piece of cake for you and your enormous needle - which you were glad was being used on Simon, since, most of your other clients would have been crying from the pain only halfway done with the black - and soon enough you were heading out to the front with him, readying yourself to bid him goodbye and, disappointedly, only see him again in the next month, once his tattoo was healed enough for another session, however, as you approached the waiting room, he made no move to leave. You thought maybe he was, again, inspecting your work displayed on the wall, the prospect of continuing to tattoo him after his chest piece was done getting you giddy already, but he was looking nowhere but in your direction, eyes unreadable behind the skull mask.

“I’ll wait until you close. Who knows if that asshole won’t come back expecting me not to be here anymore.”

Blinking up at him, it took you a few moments to process what he had murmured under his breath, and, in an instant, your heart rate shot up as you tried to wrap your head around the implications. Had it been any other client, you would have laughed it off, telling him not to worry and that you could take care of yourself, but it wasn’t just about anyone. It was him. And for some reason, the fact made you only wordlessly agree with a nod of your head and wide eyes, certain he could now see how clearly flustered and red your face looked. An intrusive part of your brain was screaming at you that he was just being nice, and that the protectiveness was just because of his job and nothing else, but you’d entertain these thoughts later - if ever.

So, much like the second time you’d met him, the rest of your afternoon was spent with seeing Ghost’s massive figure patiently waiting in the way too small loveseat in the front room of the studio, living up to the scary guard dog imagery you had joked about to him, except, this time, in between clients you’d sit besides him to catch a break and make light conversation, the deep rumble of his voice soothing all of your worries in a minute.

As the hours went by, it was way past nightfall when you closed up, everyone else had already left and you were exhausted after washing the studio on your own. True to his word, Simon loomed behind you like a shadow, quiet and intimidating, refusing to leave until he had walked you to your car in safety. You remember thanking him profusely, and him not making a big deal out of it, and the way your heart thrummed in your throat as you drove on autopilot to your house, trying to ignore the way Ghost’s figure walking besides you on the quiet sidewalk a few moments before felt just right.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

It was early August when you woke up in a very good mood that one morning.

Later you’d realize it was because it was the day of Simon’s appointment, but at the time you had chalked it up to just being a sunny day that brightened your spirits.

Business as usual, you went along your day, anxiously waiting for the place to empty out and you’d get your newly discovered favorite customer, not that you’d admit it outloud to him, or even to yourself. It was actually a slower day, with a big break between clients, which you were glad about, so between coffee and water breaks and chit chatting with your coworkers, soon enough the sun went down and the enormous figure of Ghost could be seen crossing the threshold of the studio’s glass door, responding your enthusiastic wave with a nod of his head, eyes relaxed behind the mask. As usual, he followed you inside the procedure room, and you remembered something.

“Lemme see how your sleeve is healing.” Extending your hand, you smiled cheekily at him, giddy after seeing his half-hearted eye roll, and he gave his left forearm for you to inspect. With his busy way of life, you’d have expected to be worse, but it was actually very well taken care of. “Wow, this has healed up perfectly, good job, Simon!”

You beamed up at him, but your smile faltered once you saw his eyes widening at the praise. Oops. He grumbled something in response and you decided to save him the embarrassment, releasing his arm with a chuckle.

No matter how many times he did it, every single time Ghost took his shirt off it made your brain short circuit, but you remained professional and fell into the familiar routine of tattooing him in comfortable silence, only this time it was broken not only by you talking first, but also him. It surprised you to hear him ask you questions first or tell you some non-compromising stories about his job, - making you chuckle a few times hearing about the shenanigans of this “Soap” friend of his - but you weren’t about to complain. You were lost in the familiarity of it all when you realized that you were actually almost done with the shading - meaning his chest piece would end one session earlier than expected. Trying to mask your disappointment, you wrapped it up, forcing a smile to a suddenly very confused Ghost.

“I thought we were going to need another session but, uh, turns out it was…faster than i expected!” You gave him a slight, nervous chuckle, and you swore you saw his eyes widen behind the mask.

As usual, you wrapped the ink in the plastic film - finding it very hard to make the masking tape stick to his large pecs - and gave the same instructions in a robotic way, following him to the front desk where he finished paying for his piece, all in absolute silence and with unreadable eyes. As the transaction was finished, he lingered, standing silently in front of you, looming. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“So, yeah, i guess that’s it…” You gave another chuckle, offering him a gentle smile. “Hey, don’t be a stranger-”

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” He blurted out, shutting you right up, and that stopped you dead in your tracks. You stared up at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly, and were waiting for him to say something else or even backtrack, but that never came.

“Uh. Yes? I mean, yes, sure! I’d love to!” You stammered, certain you were wide-eyed and a flustered mess, not expecting him to be so straightforward, or, even say anything at all. Simon seemed a lot more composed than you, even if the way he blurted his question out made it seem like he could be slightly nervous. You doubted he ever got nervous, though.

“Great. Does this weekend work for you?”

Thinking back on your schedule, you remembered that no, it didn’t.

“I’m booked with work…But, the next one I should be free.” You hated how awkward you sounded.

He nodded, and took his phone out of his pocket to extend it for you, and you assumed he was asking for your number in the Ghost-est fashion possible. You unlocked it, noticing the lack of a password and the factory wallpaper, realizing it was probably a personal and barely used phone, punching your number in and saving the contact. As you returned the device to Simon, you found solace in realizing he probably felt as awkward as you did.

“I’ll see you in a fortnight, then.”

With a last nod of his head, he left, leaving you flustered, confused, but extremely giddy, and with a heart pounding against your ribcage.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Simon came back a week before he was supposed to.

As usual, you were closing up shop when he showed up, distractedly walking around the front room of the studio as you organized everything for the night, the sound of the heavy rain outside covering up the creaking of the glass door, so when you turned around, his presence startled you.

“Hi Simon! You’re early.” You chuckled once you recovered from your scare, but he didn’t match your energy. He was just standing there, stiff as a plank, and staring silently at you. Growing increasingly worried, you were about to ask if he was alright when he beat you to it.

“I’m leaving for a mission. And i’ll be gone for…some time.”

Your heart dropped, and you could only stare at his mask trying to process his words and find words, but ultimately settling on a quiet and disappointed oh. He finally approached you, and in less than a second he was standing towering over your figure, holding you in that familiar eye contact you’d grown to look forward to so much, even if you'd realized by his gaze that he seemed just as upset as you.

“Will you…be in danger?” It was a dumb question, but you couldn’t help yourself, everything you told yourself the days about moving slowly and waiting for your first date to decide how much you cared flying out the window as you openly worried for him for the first time. Ghost sighed, and suddenly you were hyper aware of how close you stood.

“I always am.”

Not breaking away from his intoxicating gaze, your words lowered to a whisper, a plea.

“Be careful. Please.”

The air stilled around you, thicker in tension that got worse with each passing millisecond, all of those feeling like hours. Simon’s height had never seemed so intimidating, and you never chastised yourself so much before for liking how his intense aura made you feel, something that increased tenfold once he boldly got even closer to you. Opening and closing your mouth like a fish, hoping something would come out eventually, you stilled upon feeling his gloved hands gingerly touching your face - dwarfing you in them - and you swore your heart was about to leap from your chest to your throat in a matter of seconds. His steely gaze flickered downwards briefly before returning to your eyes, asking for permission for something you didn’t even know quite right what it was, but that you’d give him regardless. The rough texture of his gloved left hand reached your now slightly parted lips as he traced the bottom of them with his thumb, moving his other hand to slowly lift up his balaclava just enough to expose his - unsurprisingly - sharp, stubbled jaw and full, lightly scarred lips. You barely had time to admire what you could see of him before his face was merely inches apart from yours, your breaths mingling together from both of your parted lips.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” He mumbled against you. A silent beg for you to stop him now, but you wouldn’t even dream of it.

“I don’t care.” You breathed back, voice barely above a whisper, and that seemed to break his resolve, as in the next moment he was leaning in and finally capturing your lips with his.

Kissing Simon Riley in real life was so much better than what you imagined. His height made it that he had to lean down an awkward amount to reach you and you actually had to stand a bit on your toes, but none of that mattered as you finally felt his lips move against yours, surprisingly slow and gentle for a man that looked like that, but you supposed he was always full of surprises. He moved his hands from your face to your waist, gripping with a little more force when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, encouraging him to kiss you harder - it would be a waste not to feel just how strong those huge arms of his could get wrapping around you. Groaning into your mouth, his touch soon became ravenous as he tasted you like a starved man, both of you now knowing it might as well be the last time you’d see each other, but you didn’t want to dwell too much on it, choosing instead to focus on the way he gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the counter as if you weighed nothing, getting even impossibly closer to your smaller frame, never breaking the kiss. You felt like you could stay wrapped up in his arms for hours, but at some point you had to part your lips, keeping your foreheads touching and looking at each other without saying another word.

He waited until you closed up and walked you to your car again; except, this time, as you watched his retreating figure from the rearview mirror, your chest felt constricted, the unsureness of if he’d ever come back alive clenching your throat in fear.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The late june spring air smelled good, and you were in high spirits.

You hummed contently, cleaning with a paper towel wet with soapy water the last smudges on the inked skin, leaning back to admire your work. The black crow on his upper back turned out particularly good, and you found it amusing how its edgy nature went along well with the other tattoos already on his body. Spreading the hydrating vaseline to wrap the piece up took a little more than you’d take with other clients, since you were busy admiring and feeling up the strong, scarred back beneath your fingertips.

“All done!”

The man got up, admiring the crow in an awkward angle in front of the full body mirror, and you couldn’t help but keep staring at the muscular back and pecs that you could see from your position in your chair.

“Quit the ogling.”

His voice sounded gruffy, but slightly amused, which made you chuckle and get up, stopping by his side to lean against his huge arms and stare back at him through the mirror.

“Quit being hot, then.”

Simon rolled his eyes, but you knew he was smiling under the mask and possibly had the slightest red dusting his cheeks - since he was so pale, you’d always notice it when he had his mask off, and in turn, he’d always notice how you’d stare at his face with a smug smile. He looked over the tattoo once more before you wrapped it up, past the stage of giving him the instructions, all of them already second nature to him, considering it had been so many years he started getting tattooed by you.

“You know” You started as he followed you to the front door of the mostly empty studio, the only other sound being the tattoo machine of a single other coworker that was staying late in their own procedure room. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know I still got another client and it should take one or two hours more.”

Ghost huffed, turning to you with his hands on his jacket pockets, the height difference between you never failing to take all the air out of your lungs.

“Nonsense. He’s not supposed to be here for another half an hour, right? I’ll go grab us some dinner from that place you like and I’ll be right back. I’ll help you close up then we can go home.”

You shook your head with a giggle, watching as he came closer to you, and were about to protest more but he gave you a look that left no chance for you to be stubborn, shutting you right up. Taking one hand out of his pocket, Simon lifted his mask just enough for you to see his jaw - which you had already admired that morning while he was shaving - and his lips, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling him murmur just so you could hear it.

“See you in a minute, love.”

With that, he left, leaving you to watch fondly his retreating form from the glass door, as you chuckled dreamily one last time and went back to your procedure room.

#capy.writes #cod #cod mw22 #cod mwii #call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader

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4ngel-inc · 3 months

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࿔*:･ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 ࿐

tags — [ MDNI / 18+ ], fem reader, a little angsty but all with happy endings, fluff but suggestive & some dirty talk !! ᰔ

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 feels a knife in his chest when he sees you hugging someone else—he knows the two of you have only been dating a short time, but in his mind, you're the one. he wants you forever, but now you've gone and fallen for someone else. he immediately contemplates killing the other person, but he decides against it—that was his past self, he's changed now. it takes a lot for him to be completely vulnerable around you at first, so it's difficult expressing that he's jealous. "bella, are you still happy with me?" he hates the slight quiver in his voice, but he needs to know. "huh? 'f course i am, osamu, why'd you ask me that?" you pull him in for a soft kiss, just lips touching gently, before pulling away, "something bothering you?" before he can even bring up the other guy, he realizes how silly he's been, shaking himself out of his own self-loathing—"ah, nothing, just wanted to make sure. wanna go out for a coffee or something? you look so pretty today, i'm sure i'm not the only one who noticed. i want to show you off, angel." you roll your eyes, so that's it. "you think someone else thinks i'm pretty?" there's a long pause, but you know what he's thinking, "babe, he's just a friend. you're my everything, y'know that, right?" he sighs, pulling you into his lap, "you figured me out, huh? i can never hide around you, why is that?" he seems to be asking himself rather than you, but you answer anyways, "because i love you, and you love me—our hearts are tied together, i always know what you're thinking, like now," you reach down to stroke him through his pants, pleased to find him already hard, "why don't i remind you how much i love you, huh?"

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 tries to look away when he sees you talking to another guy at a party the mafia is having, disgusted by the way the man smiles at you so slyly, clearly interested in you—but you've always been so adorably oblivious to how other people look at you with such admiration and lust, completely unaware of your own beauty. he's used to others flirting with you, but what is surprising is that you seem to be quite interested in the conversation, despite the way the man is slowly moving closer to you with each passing second. are you into him? no, you couldn't be—chuuya is your everything, you've told him as much many times, and though he's never been one to surrender to insecurity, after working for the mafia for so many years, he doesn't really trust anyone except you. it isn't long before he's approaching you, and though he wants to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in, he hesitates. "everything alright?" "oh, chuuya! yes, everything's great. [name] here was just telling me about his most recent mission, it's quite fascinating." when he gets a bit closer, chuuya realizes he recognizes the man, and gently tugs on your arm, "come on, love, let's go." you're a little surprised but follow him anyways, waving goodbye to your new acquaintance. "chuuya? what's wrong?" your heels click on the floor quickly before chuuya presses your back into a hidden corner of the room, kissing you deeply and passionately. you're breathless when he pulls away, "that guy's a scumbag, you deserve better." you're utterly confused at his words—you've always been chuuya's—but your thoughts escape you when his lips are on yours again, and you choose not to question it, gently tugging at his belt before suggesting the two of you retire to your room for the evening. "i'm not sure what's bothering you, but i'll fix it, babe."

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 hates himself for it, but he's a little jealous when you rave about your new favorite anime character. he's your background on your phone and the inspiration for a few plushies on your bed, and though he doesn't feel threatened, he wishes your attention was on him instead. the last thing he wants is to be controlling—it just isn't in his nature—he loves that you have hobbies you enjoy so much! but you've been distracted lately, and he's been missing your sweet kisses and cuddles. he never thought he'd find himself growing so soft, he has such a weakness for you that makes him nervous, but he's been so busy and stressed about work lately—your pretty eyes locked with his as you snuggle up against him, looking up at him and running your hand through his hair with all the love in the world in your eyes, would be a salve to all of his worries. it isn't really a decision when he brings it up, it just comes out one day, "would you be open to me watching this show with you? i'd like to be a part of this new interest of yours, since it makes you. . . so happy." you easily detect the discouraged tone in his voice, and click the tv off. "c'mere, ryu, what's wrong?" "nothing," he states matter-of-factly, but you understand the implication behind his tone—he's been lonely. "why don't we spend the day together?" you run your fingers through his hair, "your hair's a little messy, want me to cut it for you? i'll make you dinner, too, what are you in the mood for?" his heart swells at your offer, "i'd really enjoy that, i've missed you lately. i've been working too much, but i'm glad you've been keeping busy."

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 always thought you were his—from the moment you told him you'd be his girlfriend, you were his greatest treasure, he told himself he'd never do anything to lose you. but when he sees you laughing and twirling your hair with a new guy, he can only assume that's the case. he must have done something wrong—worked too much, didn't tell you you're pretty enough, something. it seems like you're having fun with this new person—sigma tells himself he never made you smile that way, doesn't make you laugh as hard, and he's ashamed of that. when you two crawl into bed later that night, you notice sigma doesn't seem as cuddly or affectionate as usual. "baby? something wrong?" he frowns, but shakes his head 'no' anyways. "i'm fine, just tired." you aren't buying it, and when he wraps the blanket around himself, his body laid on the edge of the bed, as far away from you as possible, you need to know—he's your sweetest love, you can't bear the thought of him suffering. you sit up and flick on the light, "baby, please talk to me. did i do something?" he sighs, but eventually decides to open up to you, and you're happy to tell him your "new guy" is only a friend—sigma is the one you really want, and truthfully, he's a little embarrassed he thought otherwise. "i'm sorry, love, i guess i'm just insecure." you brush your fingers over his cheek, "you're not insecure, sweetie, you just love me—and i love you, just as much. i'm never letting you go, you're everything i've ever wanted." he smiles and finally snuggles into you, "thank you for loving me, i don't deserve you."

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #akutagawa x reader #sigma x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #bsd smut #bsd headcanons #osamu dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai smut #chuuya smut #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs

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thebellearchives · 11 months

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𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

~ inumaki toge // fushiguro megumi ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : at night, you and your sorcerer friend take shelter in an inn room to take care of each other’s wounds

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, making out, a bit suggestive maybe ?? (i’m still tagging it as fluff)

- gumi’s part: 'it’s complicated' friends to lovers, he tends to your wounds

- toge’s part : toge’s aware of your crush on him, you feel cursed energy through his kisses, onigiri ingredients in japanese, he uses harmless words at the very end, also uses cursed speech on you in the last sentence lol, you tend to his wounds

‧₊˚ a / n : wasn’t intending on posting this but anyways, this shots turned out kinda cute so, would’ve been sad to keep them to myself, also putting them together because both follow the same scenario and have many similarities

the reader feeling toge’s cursed speech was largely inspired by this 🫶🏻

also don’t question the fact that they’re in an inn room instead of the infirmary or smth okay just go with the flow bye 😭

• 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

You and Megumi somehow managed to check in the room without much questioning. Entering an inn late at night looking like you just got beat up was definitely something that would raise the front desk lady’s eyebrows, but you figured you had just gotten lucky.

You closed your eyes and sighed, Megumi’s footsteps came closer. You were sitting in the kitchen counter, knees apart from each other so Megumi could stand in between and attend to your wounds just like you had done before with his. His fingers lifted your chin up so he could see better under the room’s dim light. He pressed an alcohol drenched cotton ball lightly over your left eyebrow, making you jolt.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry” he mumbled “I’m almost done.”

Your eyelids opened slowly, finding him close to you, his dark eyes fixed on your wound. You studied his face in the meantime, long lashes contrasting with his pale clear skin, yet blending with his black irises.

“Can’t believe after all this time of being friends we just had our first mission together.”

“I’m guessing Gojo wasn’t sure of what would work well for us”

“That’s not what I mean, I mean we did great!”

He scoffed in slight amusement.

“Yeah, I knew we would”

“You mean you knew because I kicked your ass the last time we sparred?” a cheeky smile appeared on your face.

“As far as I remember, I was declared the winner” he raised an eyebrow

“Small details, truthfully it was a tie.”

“Right…” Megumi decided to cut the conversation, focusing more on wiping dry blood from your skin.

Finally he exhaled, his hand moved away, examining your face carefully. A soft frown appeared on his face as his eyes fell on your lips.

“Did you cut your lip?”

“Oh? Not that I’m aware of, it doesn’t hurt.”

“It’s bloody.”

Megumi’s fingers on your chin tensed up, sliding the cotton ball over your lip and then discarding it. He tilted your head to the right, blinking and squinting. With the same hand he was holding your jaw, he swiped his thumb over the lower lip.

With widened eyes you stared at him, alarm bells suddenly going off in your head and your irregular breathing hitting his skin, his gaze fixed on the way your soft lip molded under his fingertip. Tangled thoughts raced in your head, trying to figure out the sudden change in the atmosphere and the accelerating pace of your beating heart.

“It’s not wounded” Megumi’s voice was barely audible and you noticed the way his body had just gotten as stiff as yours, probably gaining awareness of the context you were both were surrounded by: him in between your thighs, under the cover of dim lightning and the silence of the night, being the closest to one another you had ever been.

Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Megumi closed the distance between your mouths, lashes lowering and hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Megumi’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.

When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his shirt, fingertips grasping the fabric to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.

Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your fists pulling from his shirt. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.

Megumi’s hands then settled on your hips, until he suddenly stopped, freezing in place and then pulling away from you to search for your eyes. You stared back in a bit of a daze.

“What…” the black haired sorcerer tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.

“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”

He swallowed, trying to find words once again.

“Listen, I…”

“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on his shirt, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”

Slowly, Megumi nodded.

“We can just let it be… for tonight.”

“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.

“Yeah, just for tonight…”

• 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄

Toge’s eyes followed you around as you picked and discarded objects from the first aid kit. At first he was annoyed at how much you had insisted on taking care of the wounds your last fight had inflicted, but at a certain point he had stopped complaining and just… stared. Now, you knew Toge wasn’t one to say much, because he couldn’t, but even when he didn’t say actual normal words he also wasn’t one to shut up. There was always some 'okaka's and 'tuna's and he would gesticulate here and there, he just had to let you know his opinion on absolutely everything. But now… he was absolutely silent.

You walked over to the kitchen counter, where he had sat down begrudgingly and now he was just lazily waiting.

“Bend over a little, will you?” you sighed, wet cotton in your hand.

His lavender eyes stared curiously, but he did as you asked and moved closer so you could reach for his face. There was a bloody scrape right next to his brow, product of a bad landing during the fight with the curse. You held your breath to gain courage and put aside your romantic feelings for the boy, then reached to cup his cheek with your left hand in order to keep him steady and started cleaning the almost dry blood.

He winced, a pitiful expression appeared on your face.

“Sorry” your voice softened “I’ll be finished soon, don’t worry, this is the last one.”

You expected him to say something, he would’ve usually just muttered a 'shake' or something, and yet he didn’t. When you were finally done you sighed once again, lowering your hands and grasping the edge of the counter.

“Alright, that’s it, why aren’t you speaking to me?” Toge raised a brow, as if your question was ridiculous to him “don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean.”

He pressed his lips against each other and then shrugged.

“Are you mad at me?” your brows almost touched, his eyes widened.

“Okaka” he immediately shook his head.

“Oh, so now you’re talking” he snorted, finally letting a small smile shine through “there’s something off, I can tell…”

He bit his lip and shrugged again, this time pointing to his head with his index.

“Thinking?”

“Shake”

“About what?”

His eyes seemed to shine in a peculiar way, trying to hold back a smirk. It was almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask that question for a while. Toge pointed at you, made a small heart with his index and thumb, and then pointed at himself. You blinked about twice, blankly.

“You’re thinking… about you and me?”

He squinted and motioned 'more less', then repeated the previous gesture: you, heart, him.

“You’re thinking…” you heart him. Suddenly your eyes widened, a blush rapidly crept up your face “you’re thinking i like you?”

Toge then grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

“Huh” you exhaled nervously, eyes shying away from him “right when i thought i was the best at understanding you seems like i still don’t get what is going on inside that head of yours.”

He chuckled, his right hand searched for his phone in his pocket and then quickly typed something up in the notes app. You just expectantly watched him as he conveyed his thoughts into written words.

“I’m not thinking you like me, i’m thinking i know you like me”

“Narcissistic much?” you quirked one of your eyebrows and he snorted “what makes you think that?”

“Just the way you look at me, and the way you act around me. Panda had pointed it out before but i’m just now thinking maybe he was right”

“I treat you just like all of my other friends!” you looked up at his eyes again, this time in defiance, but he tilted his head, raising his brows in disbelief “alright then, what have i done with you that i wouldn’t have done with anyone else?”

With a smile, Toge rubbed his cheek and then placed his index right on top of yours.

“Blushing?”

“Shake”

“You’re insinuating that I have romantic feelings for you, of course i’m gonna be embarrassed!”

Rolling his eyes, he nodded. Then, he cupped your left cheek, raising your face towards his and supporting your chin with his ring finger and pinky. You frowned, quickly catching up with the fact that he was holding your face in the same way you had done just moments before.

“… I was just taking care of you…” your whisper worsened your blush.

“always”

He chuckled at your shocked expression, the sound waves of his harmless words making you shiver. It wasn’t everyday that he’d risk speaking normally.

“… well, yes, i care for you”

“a lot” you bit your lip, there was no denying that, so you swallowed your nerves and looked away, he snickered “you’re cute”

Once again the surprise froze you, the power in his voice making your body tremble, what he had said made a sweet nervous feeling flutter around your stomach. He leaned in, you held your breath. Toge placed a lovely kiss on your lips, and you delicately but firmly kissed him back, the sliding of his lips on yours enticing and elating. A soft wave of cursed energy flowed through your mouth, but the moment he slid his tongue on your lower lip and you opened your mouth it rose in intensity. You had to cling from his shirt to keep yourself steady, the moment his marked tongue brushed against yours a sharp wave of electricity ran down your throat, pulling a whimper out from your vocal chords.

He pulled back to look at you and you panicked, embarrassed.

“I’m- oh god i’m so sorry!” your face was burning red at that point “it’s just that- i can feel your cursed energy.”

His eyes widened with surprise and worry, hopping off the counter his hands grabbed your shoulders.

“Takana?!”

“I’m fine! I’m totally fine” cupping his face you tried to comfort him, and it worked, he relaxed, but you pulled him closer again, your noses brushing “it felt… really nice…”

You lips searched for his, Toge smirked in amusement to your reaction, but he complied. So slowly, he kissed you again. The feeling of his energy running trough you seemed to make the blood in your veins rush in bliss, pulling sounds from the depths of your chest. Suddenly his hand slithered to the back of your head and he deepened the kiss, the mark on his tongue making contact with yours and making you gasp and jolt against his body. Toge giggled, but caught you in his arms, resting his back on the counter.

“Come on Toge, won’t you have mercy on me?” you complained, Toge shook his head slowly, and by the way he smiled you knew he was about to pull one of his stunts.

“Be louder” his lips immediately crashed back onto yours.

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digital-domain · 3 months

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Spring Cleaning

Alastor x Reader // word count 3.2k

In which Alastor goes through your closet, and offers a tasteful replacement for the unsavory things he’s destroyed

Tags/warnings: yandere, invasion of privacy, Alastor’s outfit-changing magic fuckery, mention of lingerie, slight suggestiveness

A/N: I’d like to thank Goodwill for providing the clothing item that inspired this fic

There’s someone in your room, and you know exactly who it is, because - well, it’s not like it’s a rare occurrence. It doesn’t happen every time, but often enough that you’ve gotten used to seeing Alastor when you open the door, pacing along your bedroom floor, casually perusing your belongings, or sitting at your desk chair like he’s been waiting for you all day. It’s been happening for so long, now, that you don’t remember exactly when it started. And you certainly don’t know why. You tried asking, once or twice, but you learned quickly that he has a shocking ability to dance around questions that he doesn’t want to answer. All you really know is that he’s taken an interest in you, and that it’s not likely to disappear anytime soon.

Some specific visits do stick out in your memory. On one particularly horrendous occasion, he’d stood directly beside the door when you’d swung it open, hiding himself from view, only for his presence to be revealed when you’d turned to shut it behind you. His head had been tilted to a truly bizarre angle, but he’d straightened himself out while you were still reeling from the shock.

No need to be frightened, my dear. Just a bit of fun…

You got the feeling that the look on your face was exactly the entertainment he was looking for.

Today isn’t like that, thankfully. It’s usually not. You get the impression that he doesn’t want to scare you away (as if you could run away, even if you wanted to), and that that particular visit was a rare sort of indulgence. Your door is already cracked open, and you hear him long before you see him. He’s humming something, but like most of the songs he treasures, it’s far too old for you to recognize.

Not as if he accepts that as an excuse. You’ve started learning some of the titles, just to appease him. And the lyrics. And reading the books that he’s given you, and listening to his odd bits of old-fashioned advice, and accepting his various other gifts. The whiskey was nice, although of course he insisted upon drinking with you, and cut you off at one glass. Apparently, it would have been improper to indulge any further in mixed company. The coffee was better - at least he let you drink that by yourself.

When you swing the door open, he’s half-turned away from you, and doesn’t so much as look in your direction. But what you can see of his broadening smile makes it clear that he’s heard you enter. “Hello, my dear,” he murmurs. “I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

This is another thing you’ve gotten used to: being made to feel like you’re the guest, in your own bedroom. It drives you insane, but of course, you’ve never addressed it. And you’ve certainly never tried to drive him out before he was ready to leave. This little arrangement you have - truly, you’re not sure what to call it - can be unpleasant, at times, but it’s not unbearable. He never comes late at night, and never shows up when you have company (although how he always seems to know whether you have company, you’re not sure). He doesn’t seem to want anything more than your attention.

It’s acceptable. Tolerable. And if you ever push back, you’re not sure what will happen, so you think it’s better to just leave things as they are. To let him come and go through your life as he pleases.

You’re coming closer than ever to saying something now, though, because this time he’s not just sitting at your desk, or standing idly somewhere in your room. He’s got your closet door open - and he’s rifling through the contents. Clearly, he’s been doing this for some time, because a large portion of your clothes are already lying in a heap on the floor behind him. As you watch, he tears another shirt off its hanger. A black camisole that you’d bought because it reminded you of something you’d worn often in life. A “going out top,” as your old friends had called it. He looks down with something like disgust, and drops it over his shoulder, where it flutters to the top of the pile.

“ Alastor…” You try to keep your tone even. Merely curious, instead of indignant. “What are you doing?” A bit of your anger slips through. It would be stupid to even hope that he didn’t notice.

“No need to be so hostile.” He slips another shirt from your closet and holds it up with both hands. “I’m doing you a favor.” He tugs on the sloped neckline of the delicate blouse in his hands, and a rip appears down the middle. “My mistake, dear.”

Arguing, you think, would be a bad idea. But you really do need him to stop. “I liked that one.”

“ Hmm…well! I didn’t. I’m afraid it was a bit modern for my tastes.” He shakes his head, and turns around, dropping the shirt into the mess of other garments on the floor. He’s made it through a good chunk of your wardrobe - several pairs of pants and jeans, as well as a few accessories you’d grown fond of, are visible within the heap. “I mean no offense, of course. I only wish to help.”

You certainly do take offense, but there’s no point in addressing that directly. “They’re my clothes,” you say instead, very aware that you sound like an idiot.

“Not anymore.” With a flourish of his hand, the pile disappears, leaving the floor bare. As well as your closet…as you carefully approach, you see that there’s almost nothing left inside. “You’ll thank me before long.”

It’s getting very hard to contain yourself now. “I bought those.”

“And I will be happy to provide some more… suitable replacements.” His image flickers in front of you - a moment later, he reappears by your side. It’s not the first time this has happened, either, but it makes you shudder every time. “To be entirely honest…” An odd twist of his neck brings his face directly in front of yours, nose nearly brushing your own. “I should have done this long ago.” He takes you by the shoulder, and guides you across the room to your dresser. “I’m nearly done already. Only a few drawers left to go.”

You stare up at him, hardening your gaze. Doing your best to sound confident, and not terrified of speaking up. “I want them back.”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option. What’s done is done.” He turns, and reaches for the handle of a drawer. The small one, in the top corner.

Oh. Your stomach knots as you realize which drawer, exactly, he’s about to open. You can’t, under any circumstances, let him see what’s in there. But your protest is so frantic that it’s barely comprehensible. “That one - don’t… ”

He laughs shortly, as if you’ve said something only mildly amusing. “You’re getting hostile again, my dear. You know I don’t appreciate that.”

In a panic, you blurt out the question that rises to the top of your head. It will distract him for a moment, if nothing else. “Why are you doing this?”

You realize immediately that this was a mistake. Questioning him is always a mistake.

But then again - you would like to know.

He pauses, the corner of his grin twitching upward. Eyes narrowing as his head swivels in your direction. “I’ve taken a liking to you, my dear.” He certainly doesn’t sound as if he likes you at the moment. His voice drips with condescension. “So when you do things, or have things, that I don’t like, I find it rather jarring.” He takes a deep breath. After he exhales, his eyes flash, and he continues in his usual lighthearted tone. “Taking those things away is quite a comfort to me.”

His smile seems a touch more genuine now. Somehow, that makes it more unsettling. So much so that you freeze up for just a second too long.

“Back to business, then.” He lashes out a hand, and yanks the drawer open.

As soon as he peers inside, he goes rigid. You stiffen, as well, but certainly not for the same reason. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the sharp static suddenly buzzing in your ears. “I told you…”

“No, you didn’t .” He dips a single finger into the drawer, and pulls out the garment on top by its strap, dangling it in midair and examining it. It’s black, like the shirt you’d walked in on him tossing earlier - but it’s certainly not designed for going out. Or for anywhere besides your bedroom. He stares at it for some time, until his silence becomes too much to bear.

“You shouldn’t have”-

“My dear.” He laughs softly, more to himself than to you. “I’d really prefer you not tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, so fake that it’s painful to your ears, its conceit betrayed by the telltale twitch in his eye. “Now. Do tell me. What could have possessed you, to spend your hard-earned money on something like this ?” He tilts his head, and stares, clearly waiting for a response.

This question has no good answer, but some are worse than others, so you choose your words carefully. “It…I like how it looks?”

“Hm.” If he wasn’t grinning, as always, you’re sure he’d be grimacing instead. “I can’t say I understand.” He sets it down in the drawer for a moment, and carefully tugs off his glove. “Nor do I wish to.”

You watch in a mixture of mortification and horror as he takes hold of your lingerie once again, and snags his nails across the fabric, easily rending it to pieces. He drops the torn fabric carelessly to the floor, kicks it under your dresser, and pointedly wipes his hand on his sleeve before replacing his glove.

“Ah, well. No need to say anything more about it now.” His eyes trail to the remaining contents of the drawer. “I do hope that you’re not quite as fond of the rest.” He drops his hand over the pile, and a moment later, a soft green flame envelops it. For a moment, you panic, sure that your entire dresser is about to burn, but the flame disappears with the last of your lingerie, leaving not so much as a pile of ashes behind.

You peer into the empty drawer, mouth ajar. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.” You’re probably getting into risky territory, but this mixture of embarrassment and irritation is becoming too much to bear.

“Hm?” His eyes are gleaming. There’s something dangerous there, you think, something that you have to tread carefully around. “You didn’t get so worked up over the rest of your closet. Is this different to you?”

“You said you’d replace the rest,” you mutter, judging it to be the safest possible answer. The least likely to cause further embarrassment. “I doubt you’re going to make the same offer with…those.”

“Oh? Who says?” His eyes gleam, in that way they do when he gets an idea that no one around him is going to enjoy. “I’ll admit that I wasn’t planning on it…but those things clearly meant a lot to you. And I enjoy your company far too much to let something so small come between us.”

You think that you’d certainly like something to come between you and him. A wall, perhaps. Or a large metal gate.

“So! If it’s a replacement you want, a replacement you shall have.” He sharply closes the drawer, and kicks at a strip of shredded black fabric that still protrudes from beneath your dresser. “It should be something that can be worn in bed, I suppose. But I prefer to interpret that in a more traditional sense. Something to be worn to sleep.” His head tilts dramatically, and somewhere far above your head, you think you hear a few notes of a slow, lilting song, piped in from many decades ago. “And I believe I have just the thing.” That intractable smile pulls back, just a fraction. “Let’s see what it looks like on you, shall we?”

You open your mouth to protest. But of course, you don’t manage to get a word out before he flicks his hand in your direction.

When you look down, your previous outfit is gone. And in its place…well. Like Alastor said, there’s nothing lurid about it. It’s a slip of sorts, made of thin, silky off-white fabric that falls almost to your knees. Delicate enough that you wouldn’t wear it outside, but modest enough that you don’t feel entirely exposed. It’s something to be worn to bed, indeed. But not by you. There’s nothing you about it. The fabric itself appears brand new, but like all the things Alastor seems to appreciate most, the design clearly comes from long before your time.

You find, suddenly, that you don’t know how to hold yourself. How to act. Your arms hang awkwardly at your sides, feeling heavy as your fingertips skim the silk that surround your thighs.

You realize, after the moment of disorientation had passed, that Alastor is not acting like himself, either. He’s quiet. You were expecting mockery, some ridiculous comment that would make you melt into the ground - but it appears that the results of your transformation have caught him off guard.

There’s a creak on the floorboards to your right. A faint sigh. “I must say, my dear…” Alastor’s voice is softer than you expected, and almost devoid of the static filter that usually coats his words. “It suits you better than I could have imagined.”

You think that you’d prefer taunting to whatever this is.

“I’d go so far as to say you look quite lovely.”

You keep your eyes downcast, not wanting to see his face just yet, and examine the finer details of the garment he’s cast upon you. It has narrow straps, and lace at the neckline, which is high enough to give nothing away. The hem is also lacy, and the cut is straight, not so much defining your curves as endeavoring to erase them as much as possible. Objectively speaking, it is quite pretty. But you’re left with the impression that you’ve strode into someone else’s closet, and departed wearing their clothes.

“Don’t you agree?”

Slowly, hesitantly, you look up. Alastor’s eyes are fixed on you, shining a brighter red than you’ve ever seen. There’s nothing vulgar about the way he’s staring - but he’s not merely amused, either. Instead, he’s looking at you with rapt fascination, in much the way that one would contemplate a particularly exquisite piece of art in a gallery.

“I’m…not sure.” You instinctively cross your arms, almost wishing that you saw a more crude impulse behind his eyes. That, at least, would be easier to understand. Instead, it’s something like appreciation - or pride. More of the latter. If you were merely a piece of art, you’d imagine that this would be how your creator would look at you, upon seeing you on display for the first time.

“No need to hide.” He reaches forward, and touches you lightly on the wrist. It’s enough to send both of your arms falling to your sides. “You couldn’t even if you tried.”

His smile, again, seems entirely too real. There’s nothing threatening about his tone. It’s even, charming. And yet…

He slips behind you, and his hand moves to your waist - a test, you think, to see if you’ll slap it away. “But I don’t think you’re planning on trying, are you?”

“No.” You’re surprised by how quickly the word comes out of your mouth, how breathless. It was an odd question, one that hinted at more than the subject in front of it, and seemed to demand an answer.

His other hand joins the first on your waist, and he turns you around, so quickly that you almost stumble, his palms dancing lightly over your barely covered skin. When you’re facing him, one hand slides up, curling around your jaw and holding tight, keeping your gaze turned up towards his face. And it is a long way up - it’s almost embarrassing how small you are compared to him. He stares down, staying silent for much longer than you’re used to, his breathing just a touch heavier than usual.

His fingers tighten over the silk at your waist, pressing into your skin, a small twitch of his hand pulling the fabric very slightly upwards. It barely moves the hem at all - less than an inch - but somehow leaves you feeling infinitely more exposed. You almost flinch away, but after just a moment, he lets go, all at once. In fact, he practically jerks his hands back, as if he’s only just become aware of what he’s doing, and doesn’t approve. His smile, all of a sudden, appears incredibly fragile.

“Oh…” He laughs softly - it feels forced. “Forgive me, darling. I truly don’t know what came over me.”

You’re not quite sure, either. And as usual, you neither expect nor want an answer.

He steps to your side, leans slightly over you, both hands clasped behind his back. With what seems like some effort, he forces the usual lighthearted tone back into his voice. “You do want to keep it, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You’d prefer not to, you think, if this is the sort of reaction it draws out of him. But you can’t very well get rid of it, if he doesn’t want you to. And, you reassure yourself, just because you have it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.

“Good.” Again, overhead - but not so far overhead as last time - that lilting old melody falls into your ears. You have the odd impulse to cover them, but you force yourself to keep your hands at your sides. “It is getting late…I think you might as well keep it on, and get yourself all ready for bed.”

You’d like to push back. But all you can manage is a mute nod.

“Lovely.” He starts to raise his hand, as if to reach out and touch you again, but seems to think better of it. The hand falls, and disappears behind his back once more. “Sleep well, my dear.” Quickly, he turns on his heel, only calling out one final line before slipping out through your door. “You’ll see me again soon.”

You have no doubt that you will.

Alone in your room, you slowly approach the mirror that stands in the corner. Your reflection does not change your initial impression. You don’t look like yourself. You don’t like it. And it’s not like he’ll know if you take it off, change into something more comfortable…

Your eyes fall upon your nearly empty closet, and you remember that you don’t have anything more comfortable. Not anymore.

This is alright, you try to tell yourself. It’s just a piece of clothing.

Just a piece of clothing that you can’t imagine wearing for any other reason, or for anyone else.

Your eyes fall upon the empty drawer in the top corner of your dresser, and trail over to your bed. Quickly, you drop your gaze to the floor. You realize, with a sigh, that it will be a long time before you have any company besides him in this room. In fact, it’s possible that you’ll never open your door for anyone again.

At the moment, doing so would feel far too much like allowing a guest into someone else’s home.

#alastor x reader #yandere alastor #tw yandere #tw power imbalance

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nanamiluvs · 3 months

Text

a gentleman by heart !

pairings : nanami x reader, gepard x reader, artem wing x reader

rating : mature to explicit

wc : 1.4k

tags : reader is afab but no pronouns used, lots of kissing, established relationship, creampie, kinda rough sex, desperation, size difference if you squint, just a quick drabble abt these men

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

sexually reserved men who become feral once they get your consent.

he's a gentleman in every sense of the word. he holds doors for you, buys you flowers, remembers trivial details about you- the perfect man one could ever dream of. it's not a surprise he doesn't touch you often, he would hate to make you uncomfortable. even his touch is gentle, his large hand lingering on the small of your back to guide you through the crowd. tall, handsome, kind and strong- what more could you want from a man?

sexually reserved men who, at first, would never suggest intimacy. it's a gentlemanly act, but a result of his shyness at the same time. it's almost like he's refraining himself.

he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as his eyes stare into yours, so soft. you feel how much he loves you by any and every action of his, how can a man be so perfect?

he excuses himself as he thinks you didn't notice the bulge in his pants nor the slight blush on his cheeks. it's frustrating at this point, why won't he just initiate something else instead of adjusting himself and pretending nothing is happening? you feel dared to make him come out of his shell, to finally do something out of his gentlemanly persona. well, it's not exactly a persona, he's really just that perfect. but you're almost sure there's also something else hiding beneath the waters.

his hand brushes against your knee as he drives, a fleeting touch, one hand firmly gripping the steering wheel when the other just shy of touching your leg. so you grab his hand and place it on top of your thigh, expecting him to blush and pull his hand back.

and he gulps and fucking squeezes the flesh. he runs his hand up and down on your thigh, like he was waiting for your sign to do so. no words are exchanged as his hands moves closer and closer to your core and returns to the base of your thigh once again. you clench your thighs together, not the type of touch you were expecting from your gentle boyfriend but one you were very welcoming of.

you should've guessed it was merely a starting point.

his touches only get more and more daring as time goes on. you give him an inch and he takes a mile. you two haven't discussed this subject openly at all, yet you both knew how his hands started reaching lower when they were on you, more free. you wwante even more.

so finally, when you told him that you wanted him to take you, he was not as surprised as you would expect him to be.

"i know," he says, his hands on each side of your hips as you were seated on his lap. his eyes stare into yours before giving in and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, "and i want you too. i need you so bad-" his sharp breath hits your skin and you almost feel the inner conflict he has going on.

that's why you cup his cheeks and look into his eyes. "then take me. make me yours."

he wets his lips. "i'm afraid i won't be able to let you go if i do so."

when you respond by simply pressing your lips against his, it's like a switch has flipped. his hand comes up to grab the back of your head as he flips you over on the couch, your body trapped underneath his. his eyes are filed with passion and desperation as his lips claim yours with fervor, taking your breath away and making your hands cling onto the collar of his dress shirt, pulling him closer.

he parts away, breathless as he kisses you once again. you don't know when he takes you into his arms and when he drops you on his bed, too focused on his lips and touch to notice. "you're beautiful," he whispers as he unbuttons his shirt, eyes reveling in the sight of your disheveled hair and flushed state.

you truly were the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

he's on top of you and his lips reunite with yours, shirt discarded on the floor before his hands tug onto your top, silently begging to get it out of the way. you let him do so, and his kisses trail down to your neck when he gets rid of the fabric. your hands grab his soft hair as he sucks on the sensitive skin, low moans escaping his lips from how much he wants to do this with you. the sounds you make goes straight down to his member.

soon, both of your clothes are discarded and his hand continues to fondle your breast, pinching and pulling the hardened bud between his digits while his mouth laches onto the other. he's gentle yet so rough at the same time, not giving you the time of the day to breathe. his mouth so wet and hot against your skin, he pulls away with a pop, panting as he, not even once, breaks eye contact with you.

his dick aches at the sight of your bare pussy, glistening with slick and looking just so pretty in his ehes. he leans in, to your surprise, his tongue licking a wet stripe across your slit. he delves in, he may not be very experienced but he's quite the quick learner, memorizing every single sound you let out to his movements. he soon has you tugging on his hair, pulling his head impossibly closer to your drenched cunt, riding out your orgasm in waves as he licks you through it. he grind his own bulge against the bed, chasing some friction on his needy cock.

sexually reserved men who are just so big and thick that you gasp at the sheer size of him when he takes the final layer off. your hand is not enough to accommodate his girth, and he's so hard since the visions he played in his mind were nothing compared to seeing your naked body. "i love you," you say as your arms wrap around his neck. he smiles against your lips and repeats the phrase before gently kissing you.

but you're not even sure if that thing can fit inside you.

that's why you're panting and moaning against his shoulder, his length sliding inside of you inch by inch. it's too much, you whimper, i can't take it.

sexually reserved men who whisper in your ear after leaving another mark on your neck, "you can. do it for me."

you sigh when you get used to his size filling your walls, every prominent vein you feel grazing against you, and he starts moving. he's so gentle at first.

yet that turns into relentless pounding with you screaming his name and grab onto him for dear life as he fucks you, drunk on the way your walls wrap around his dick and the way you call out to him, all thoughts about manners thrown out the window. he swallows your moans with his mouth against yours, kissing you as rough as he's having you.

sexually reserved men who grunt as he thrusts inside, even deeper than before with his long fingers rubbing your clit, sending you over the edge as you start begging him. you don't even know what you're begging for, it just feels too good and you don't know what else to do besides to take whatever he's giving you.

he whispers in your ear, telling you how much he loves you, how beautiful you are, how well you take him and how good you are for him, his words filled with so much love, how he wanted to do this for so long. it doesn't take long for you to cum again, milking his cock as he speeds up, your added slick making it easier to slide in and out.

he was going to pull out before he hears your words telling him to fucking come inside, eyes snapping up in shock before shutting down as his cock completely disappears inside your cunt and he can't hold back anymore. you feel hot ropes of cum fill you up to the brim, so full and warm that you couldn't think of anything else for a moment.

sexually reserved men who immediately check up on you after the high wears off, asking if you're alright or if he had hurt you. you pant and tell him no, you're just too fucked out to talk.

only when he leans down to kiss you could you feel his still-hard dick press against your thigh.

"...already?!"

"...i-i apologize."

nanami, gepard, artem

inspired by that one nanami twt <3

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

Note

the boys reaction to the reader sending them lewd photos (with consent!)

Oof fuck yeah 😎

tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Oh sweetheart, you fucked up (in the best way obviously)

He got the text that said “for your eyes only ;)” with an image following after the text, he knew better than to open it around others so he waited. Even when he was alone waited.

And then when he finally decided to open it, hands shaking just a little bit, he was in awe

You were sat in front of a mirror, legs spread and on your knees, back curved to get that flattering angle he loved so much, wearing nothing but his balaclava, your hair poking out from under the edges, doe eyes feigning innocence, your free hand disappearing between your legs

He calls you immediately, white knuckling his phone while he’s adjusting his jeans, suddenly tight, uncomfortable, and far too warm

“You have any idea what you’ve done?”

“No clue what you’re talking about, could use a hint though.” He heard the shit eating grin over the receiver and could practically see you biting your lower lip, eye lashes fluttering in feigned ignorance

“Better find you on your knees when I get home.”

“Or what?” He heard the breathlessness in your voice, knew how much you loved it when he gave you orders. Still he had to at least hand it to you for trying to keep up the coquettish act,

“Careful, pet, choices have consequences.”

(On GOD that line makes me WEAK)

After that interaction, he went silent until you woke up to a text a few days later that reads ‘Home in 5’ the text was sent five minutes ago and you heard the lock clicking at the front door

Consequences, love

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

The least restraint out of all of them tbh

He gets your text and sees that there’s an attachment and he calmly dismissed himself from the group, they’re at a pub, celebrating a job well done and you decided to hang back and let John have his night with his mates team

As soon as he’s alone and he opens the picture, his hand is running over his face and his baby blues are like saucers

You’re on your back, legs closed and turned to the side to show off the curve of your hips that drives him feral, you’re wearing nothing but his dog tags, with one of them between your plush lips and the other resting at the center of your chest

“Sorry, lads, gotta run.” He’s back at the table, grabbing his coat and his keys

“Already? We just got here.” Gaz shouted after him as he practically sprinted out of the building

“Shame. Be seein’ ya!”

He’s well over the speed limit and fighting his keys to get them in the lock, in a matter of seconds he’s got you in his arms, kissing the breath out of you

By the end of the night, and well into the morning, there won’t be a single inch of you that hasn’t been lavished

John Price:

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Da-

John is a patient man, he can bide his time well, knowing what it does to you

So when he sees the text and the attachment that followed, it wasn’t any different. He could wait. He knew what it was. He’s a patient man. So, just like Ghost, he waited. Except even when he was alone he didn’t open it. He’d text you as if he never saw the message and it had you wondering if it had any effect on him at all.

Sweetheart, of course it did. He could feel his phone burning a hole through his pocket despite being cool to the touch. But he wanted to wait until he knew for sure he was going home and when.

He was on the way home when he finally decided to open the picture and thank god he waited

You were sat in his favorite chair, legs crossed over the armrest, back arched over the other, wearing nothing but his hat, with one of his cigars lit between your fingers, you had captioned it with ‘what can I say? I miss my man’

If he’d seen the picture when you’d sent it, he wouldn’t be thinking straight for the rest of his time over seas. No thoughts. Head empty. Just bending you over one of the armrests and biting down on your shoulder as you’re crying out his name.

And that’s exactly what he did when he saw you.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

Oh honey, even though your text said ‘your eyes only’ he shrugged and figured no one was around to see so he opened it and his face went hot so fast, he barely had a chance to take a good look before he locked the phone and put it in his pocket.

He backed out of his chair rather clumsily and practically tripped over his feet trying to get to the bathroom

The lock had barely clicked when he dug his phone out of his pocket to get a better look and my god you looked delectable

You were wearing his cap and his jacket, which you left open, with nothing else. You were sitting on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread, biting your lip, tweaking your nipple with you free hand

‘Wish my man would serve me instead instead.’

He didn’t even bother going back to meet up with everyone else, he just went straight home, he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you for all you’re worth, before placing you on the edge of the bed and dropping to his knees.

And serve you he did.

7K notes · View notes

ybklix · 8 days

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

╰┈➤ part 2 / part one / part three

★ lee minho

✦summary: After that unexpected and magnetic encounter, Minho can't get you out of his head and he’s slowly going insane wondering if you’ve been with other men.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / ceo lee know x fem reader / dom!possesive minho / slight bondage / use of sex toys / public fingering / unprotected sex, creampie / sugar daddy

word count: 11.5k

(masterlist)

a/n: ty for reading! my next one shot is ab chan🙂‍↕️

That day for you was more unusual than the previous one, you sat up confused and somewhat hurt when you heard his tone. You rubbed your face trying to wake up completely then you saw clothes spread out on the end of the big bed. Confused, at least you thought he had the dignity to let you go with other clothes and not in an embarrassing way with the previous night's clothes full of sex.

Carefully you removed the big, high-padded sheet from you and, still naked you walked around to get a better look at the garments, Jacquemus black mini skirt, a nice simple blouse with crystal detailing around the neck by Miu Miu, classic Prada loafers and new white underwear. You thought the choice of outfit was somewhat questionable but you still recognized high fashion brands, you were about to put on your clothes until you got a little surprised when you heard the bedroom door open, it was Minho who didn't flinch at seeing you standing naked and, with half of his body peeking out suggested to you in a soft tone:

“You can take a shower if you want.” he gave you a very small smile and walked out.

You weren't sure how to feel and wanted to get out of there quickly, so you cautiously looked around for the door leading to the bathroom, which you had used the night before. You looked at yourself for a few seconds in the mirror realizing that you hadn't checked the time on your phone and embarrassment consumed you as you thought it was late. You also realized you were still wearing those cute earrings so you took them off with the silly little idea of not being able to get them wet, leaving them on the sink counter.

The warm water felt so good on your body and you tried not to focus on anything else. You just had an exquisite night of sex that made you even shiver and weaken, you had never felt anything so extremely strong, nor had you ever cum with such intensity before, no doubt Lee Minho knew how to take care of you and at least you would come out of there with nothing but a pleasant and strange experience… and wearing Prada shoes.

You did your best to be quick and doable, grooming yourself with ease and finally grabbing your phone to get out of there, it was only a few minutes past 10 a.m. You tried to remember the way you were dragged from the entrance to Minho's room, ending up in a point of the house where you didn't remember being a few hours ago, just late at night you were only deeply focused on the lips of the owner of the house, frustrated you released air from your cheeks until you heard a slight noise and practically ran towards it, arriving, in the incredible maze that mansion seemed, to the kitchen where attractively by the counter was Minho sitting, drinking from his cup of coffee and concentrating reading news on his phone.

You caught Minho's attention instantly as he sensed your presence and looked you up and down, approving of how well you looked in everything he ordered to be bought for you. What started with a sweet look at the sight of your still wet hair, ended with him enjoying the sight of your smooth bare legs, intensifying his gaze, making you feel a little intimidated. But of course he would make sure that everything is made to your measure; after having had a magnificent sex and resting your agitated bodies the necessary, once you came back from the bathroom, sorry and with your cheeks tinted in pink, Minho suggested in a strangely tender tone for him “sleep here, it's late, I'll go to the guest room”.

At that moment you wanted to melt, you hadn't heard such a peaceful tone in him during all your journey together and, impulsively you wanted to beg him to stay with you, but nothing came out of your mouth. He watched you sleep for a moment, breathing so calm and confident in his presence, which did in him, awaken a feeling that had left his body years ago. Minho finally slipped away and being alone, without thinking clearly about his actions since he was trapped by the emotion of the return of that strange feeling, he hurried to check Hyunjin's messages that he had ignored so much, in his chat section, where there were screenshots of all your information in that app, at first he was annoyed by the fact that you were in that kind of site, then he took care to study every detail of you. Weight, size, measurements, your birthday two days before his, your young age, your photos… At dawn he quickly ordered them to get you new clothes no matter that most of the stores were closed as it was Sunday, somehow or other they had to get them for you. All this until, seeing you wake up brought him back to reality and he discovered himself acting senselessly for a girl, or what he thought for an instant, a prostitute who slept with him for money; so he shielded himself with his coldness and temper, convincing himself that everything previously planned had been simply polite, and it wasn't because he suddenly cared about you.

You stood for meters away from him, not quite sure what your next move should be, to which he was quick to say:

“Come, eat your lunch.”

You looked at him puzzled, he really was bipolar, you thought, minutes ago he practically ran you off and now he was inviting you to eat.

“Mm, I guess I should-” you tried to wriggle out.

“Eat.” he said abruptly dropping his gentle voice.

That took you by surprise and you noticed the plate of food next to him, you walked over, rounding the counter and sitting uncomfortably next to him. Without saying anything you began to eat, wondering to yourself if you would be able to get out of there soon as he seemed to be holding you back. Still you enjoyed the tasty omelette of your lunch, you wanted to talk but didn't know what to talk about, you didn't really know him and doubted that he was interested in listening to you; however for him, it was more than obvious that he was interested, from the simple detail that he cared about you eating, however he didn't have the courage to accept it to begin with. Minho felt the tension, not sexual, just an incredible invisible pressure on your bodies, he felt nervous to have you around and every now and then he would watch you eating, out of the corner of his eye, tenderly as he pretended to be reading an article on his phone.

Once you finished you realized that he was the one who had run out of words so you jumped out of that high chair, making noise as you stepped on the floor. Minho stared at you.

“I have to go” you said this time, “thank you”.

Minho looked at you confused for a second, wondering to himself if that thank you was the food, the clothes, the fuck or the whole general. You understood, but you didn't want to explain further. Just thank you, and goodbye. Minho didn't want to say goodbye to you like that, he hesitated long enough if he should take you by the waist and kiss you passionately, and even make you his again before leaving his house, after all it wasn't in the initial plan to meet his house, Hyunjin had planned the fuck at his hotel; but all his thoughts were in vain since, you were on the other side of the counter, away from him. Minho wondered for a moment if in order to do everything he thought he had to pay you first, he would do it without hesitation, but he really didn't know the way you worked… or just the way you were. It bothered him so much that you were that kind of girl, just like it pissed him off that you made him hesitate in seconds when he always categorized himself as someone confident.

You picked up your purse that was on the corner of the table next to a medium sized box.

“The box too, it's your dress and shoes” he added trying to dream nonchalantly.

Minho stood up from his seat and led the way out, watching you sway your hips one last time, until you walked straight out towards the big black polarized windows van.

You noticed the driver gave you a naughty look as he deduced that it was a simple wild night as he was the one driving you home and not Lee Minho himself. Minho thought that dropping you home would be too much, although he was dying of curiosity to know where you live and what you did in your free time, he just refused to take him any further. The driver was surprised to ask you where you were going, as it was clearly somewhere less luxurious.

You admired that home one last time, feeling that somehow it would not be the last time you would see it; something in you wanted to believe it.

On the way home you finally had the realization that you had had a great night and that, in a way, you had behaved like a real whore by fucking Felix days ago and then suddenly doing it with another man.

When you got home the only thing out of place was you and your expensive clothes. As was the incredibly high amount in your bank account.

You didn't want to worry anymore thinking about how bad you felt about Felix, it wasn't like you were sure you would see Minho again, but now you questioned if you really saw yourself in a relationship with your friend. So you laid back on your bed and ignored his messages. You were ready to delete that app and deactivate your account which, a day before the encounter Hari set up on your phone and taught you how to use it until you received a message notification from that app, it was Hyunjin, asking without further ado if you had fucked Minho.

On the other hand, Minho tried to distract himself on a non-working Sunday, but he couldn't relax. When the driver arrived, he asked him for your exact address, causing Minho satisfaction to know your location, then he locked himself in his office to work and during the afternoon, after sunset he proposed to watch a movie, but he found it so boring to do it alone… after a long time, for the first time, he missed someone's company. He asked himself what your favorite movie would be.

As he went upstairs to sleep he saw the sheets still impregnated in the scent of the two of you in your night of passion, seeing your image once again in his mind; he let out slightly exasperated air for several reasons, one of them being that he had to make his bed by himself with clean sheets because the clean lady would be coming tomorrow. And another reason for his frustration was the fact that he couldn't think of you being touched and satisfied by another man. And, as she entered the bathroom, his last sign of hope, your diamond earrings over his sink. Minho picked it up and watched carefully, delusionally believing there were only three options as to why that jewelry was there: you genuinely forgot them, you thought he hadn't really given them to you, or you had left them there on purpose to create the perfect excuse to see each other again. Minho questioned whether he should make that happen, a second meeting.

[...]

You had avoided Felix all day during college until in the afternoon you received a text from him that sent chills down your spine, «why didn't you tell me you quit your job? did something happen?». You had to read it twice, surprised that he had to look you up at work. You felt terrible, you couldn't ignore it.

You replied that he doesn’t need worry, you were fine, he offered to let you stay in his apartment but you quickly declined, writing him that you are still fine in your apartment and that you are just studying a script that you would like to talk about later. You weren't good at avoiding Felix, you loved telling him the smallest detail of your life but… you felt that what you had done wasn't so small after all, much less something he would like to hear. However for your best girl friend it was the opposite, she wanted every detail of your night with Minho and your opinion about that very secret job. You couldn't say anything other than, it was fine. You were still processing it and didn't feel comfortable talking about it, but Hari understood.

That same Monday morning, now at Lee Minho's company, he found himself thinking about his love life, on his way to his office, he looked at his secretary and a couple of other women who worked for him… wondering to himself why not them, why not simple women with a normal job, one of them, who Minho knew they were dying for him… but no, he had chosen you as the woman who would not leave his deepest and craziest thoughts. It seemed absurd to him that only one night was enough for him —although he couldn't really classify himself as satisfied with you, he needed more—; but the only information he had about you were those data sent by Hyunjin and the exhaustive search of your social media, as well as your public profile of all your works and small jobs where you were attributed as an actress. Minho noticed the infinity of small projects you had been part of, you seemed to work non-stop. After a few moments he stared at the icon of that app on his screen, app just installed, he wanted to know if your profile was still active and if you were going to continue doing what you did with him, but with other men, that was making him uneasy, also thinking that before him there were a couple of others. He was really considering whether to make an account and see it with his own eyes since, Hyunjin could not give him more details, much less dare to ask him and, when Minho was determined to create an account, two light knocks on his door stopped him, showing in it just the man he was thinking about.

“Come in” he shouted.

His secretary opened the door, peeking out her body.

“It's Mr. Hwang Hyunjin that if you can…”

“Send him in” he interrupted her before she could finish.

Minho thought why not just his secretary, she was pretty, two years younger than him and worked for him since 5 years ago and since she knew the breakup between Minho and Soyul publicly, his worker was in charge of giving him small details on Minho's birthday and Christmas. But he couldn't think of anything else but your overwhelming and exquisite perfume that he smelled near your neck when his chest was touching your naked back while he was touching you and making you his without mercy.

Hyunjin smiled broadly at the sight of his friend sitting behind his desk; he didn't get to see him on Sunday as he was taking care of his next gallery in another city and settling a couple of things left over from the night before at his big gala on Saturday, plus he and Minho weren't the types of men to use their phones to communicate, they needed to see each other to speak to each other.

“How was it?” said Hyunjin amused.

Minho frowned and pretended not to know what he was talking about.

“What brings you here?” replied Minho disinterestedly.

Hyunjin ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth amused letting out a chuckle. And sat down in the chair at the front of his desk.

“You know, Minho…? I noticed something different about you, even your eyes look brighter. I told you what exactly you needed.”

Minho shifted in his seat, defensive to what his friend implied, so once again his impulses took over as a defense mechanism.

“My eyes brighter? For having sex with a hooker? It's not like I was eighteen and just lost my virginity looking for more sex.”

Hyunjin smiled wider.

“So you did fuck, tell me all about it, don't omit any part” Hyunjin exclaimed excitedly wanting to hear it from his older friend since, you had confirmed it to him since Sunday.

Minho thought of you and was infuriated by the fact that he had to refer to you with such a derogatory term. And that every time he talked about you, something horrible had to come out of his mouth. He had to end that once and for all. He thought of you too just now, the softness of your skin, your wet, sweet and tight cunt wrapping around his hard cock so well.

“It was fine” he replied curtly and cleared his throat trying to clear the sudden dirty thoughts of you.

“Just fine?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, hoping for more.

Minho let out a chuckle.

“The newly hormonal deflowered kid looks like someone else. I don't tell my sexual encounters anymore, I'm too old for that.”

“You stopped doing it unless you're in a relationship, are you even in a relationship with her now…?” Hyunjin couldn't wait for a response to the prompt wordness he blurted out and only expressed, “God, y/n looked beautiful that night, I bet she was excellent, I envy you.”

And suddenly something sparked a reaction in Minho, the heated and fun conversation turned serious for him.

“Do you know her name?”

Hyunjin was silent for a second.

“Yes, she told me.”

Minho said nothing. He knew your name too but he didn't think you would go around revealing your identity so easily in this kind of situation.

“Don't play hard to get, I wouldn't just call her a prostitute, but a high class escort, seriously it was a high price since she had apparently joined recently, there was a lot fighting over her. Plus she looked stunning in that Versace” said Hyunjin more relaxed.

But that only made Minho more tense, he wanted him to stop complimenting you, to know the exact amount, how recently you had joined that service… but he found it totally indecent to ask the man who only paid heartlessly. He wanted to talk to you, to hear your point of view.

“But hey, we can finally move on once you finally had sex. I have a normal girl for you available, remember Kim Minjeong from school?”

“Kim Min Jeong” stammered Minho without paying attention.

“Her younger sister, Minkyung just came back from studying abroad, she's 24, she's incorporating in the city again and she's amazing, she really grew up. Rest assured she's totally free from knowing the drama between you and you-know-who. Plus girls love a sad, tormented guy like you who wasn't to blame for the infidelity.”

Hyunjin noticed his distracted friend's serious expression, frowned with a small grimace and decided to play a little.

“Don't tell me you fell in love with y/n, I knew you fell fast but I didn't believe you that fast” he commented jokingly.

Minho raised his gaze and locked his gaze on the Hyunjin…. Minho wouldn't exactly call it being in love, he couldn't accept the term, he didn't even know you, just for the moment you lived in his head all the time and it was getting on his nerves and he wants to refute if he just needs to see you to cease the feeling. What Hyunjin jokingly mentioned, became serious to him once he deciphered the silence in the room so he hurried to say.

“I don't judge you. You see, Chan with that girl, he just bought her an apartment and…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” replied Minho annoyedly hinting that he actually had feelings for you.

He couldn't feel anything —or so he thought— he just wanted to see you again and fuck you hard. Use you for his pleasure over and over again. But he thought it was necessary to get to know the person he would be inserting his penis inside a bit first, it wasn't like he was interested in you beyond sex —or at least he thought that—, he was just curious. But Hyunjin knew Minho was just tricking himself.

“If you want to see her again go ahead, twice is better than once. I promise not to touch her.”

“Of course you never will” Minho sentenced tensely, piercing his gaze with Hyunjin's.

Hyunjin knew instantly that Minho was in that denial phase and that, he was starting to doubt every feeling and emotion that his body emitted and Hyunjin understood it perfectly, after he was betrayed like that, he knew it was hard for Minho to open up again.

“Have you been with other girls from there?” added Minho more calmly once he realized he was being intense.

Hyunjin smiled sideways.

“No, I've only done sexting when I'm bored. No one would convince me until I saw y/n, so perfect not to see her in person; maybe she's worth it” encouraged Minho. “She's pretty, about to graduate from a good college, looks decent and nice.”

Minho wondered if you were worth it. That day once Hyunjin left his office, Minho concentrated on working and it wasn't until late that he remembered again that he'd go home alone and convinced himself to do so, to see you again since he was stressed and was a man with a heavy load every day, so you could help him with that. Minho finally tried to create a profile for himself, he spent minutes stressing sitting behind his desk waiting for his ID to verify until he could finally proceed, he was a little embarrassed about the process of posting pictures of himself and once he had everything ready he quickly looked you up, hoping that you had deleted your account, but at the same time to have a means in which to contact you. And to his greatest response, there you were; your face in some pretty selfies, a couple of others posing outside a club with a radiant smile, he scrolled down looking at all your information until he got to the bottom of your profile with blurred picture and a padlock on it with the description 'For more private content from Cheryl'. Minho blinked naively and tapped the screen, leading him to put in his bank card details and the description 'You will be charged ₩ 10 million when you unlock this feature'. Minho didn't even take 10 seconds as his data were on his phone and quickly unlocked that which he was curious about, he wished he had never done it, it was about pictures of your glorious semi naked body, a body he had touched days ago and was thirsty for more. He looked deeply and in detail at every photo, every angle and noticed that someone else had taken them, but who? He took his time analyzing them and the more he looked at them the more he was furious and clenched his left fist until he exited the app and locked his phone abruptly. He was annoyed and mildly aroused, and that could only be summed up in that he wanted to have you right now on his lap, fucking you furiously to remind you that no other pathetic man in that app could be better than him, make you come and scream better than him. He needed you now.

Minho impulsively opened the app again and offered a huge amount for you, quickly and without thinking he went to your private chat and simply typed «Accept me».

That evening you were relaxing on your couch watching TV, feeling bad because you missed Felix a little, hearing his deep voice saying anything and going out to eat together anywhere he had seen recommendations or trending on the internet.

You received a notification from your bank app and thought it would be another deposit for which you were grateful, you decided not to accept for the moment any other proposal and you would survive for a while with the money from the unlocking of your photos, although there was no regular number of income, and that frustrated you. By inertia you decided to browse a little in the app and saw something that stopped your heart for a second, a message from Lee Minho, you opened it quickly, you didn't believe it was Minho himself, he wasn't the type to be on apps like this, but there it was, his picture. You smiled without realizing it when you saw the small picture in the icon next to the message bubble, in which it said «Accept me». Your smile slowly faded and confused you were about to reply «what?» to him, until he saw that you had seen his message and quickly wrote «Or you need double». You quickly understood and checked your notifications, there it was: Lee Minho offered ₩ 900 million for a meeting. You opened your mouth in surprise, then remembered that he had said if you needed double which offended you that he had put 'need', you accepted it without thinking, impulsively.

You went back to his chat and were about to ask him what exactly he wanted to which he replied with the default message of clarifications: Hwang Palace, of Gangnam tomorrow at 7 o'clock at the restaurant in the Monet section. I need to talk to you.

You let out a sigh, having no idea why he would want to talk to you, besides you were a little hurt that he would have to pay to do so, you would have agreed to talk to him like any normal person with no money involved, sadly you thought he might never see you as anything other than... a woman who has to be paid for her service; you had no other choice, you thought that you had earned that reputation, even if you were just a little bit grateful for this unusual job already, if it wasn't for it you would have never met Minho or gone to an incredible and beautiful event like the one on Saturday…. well maybe it is possible for you to live that experience if you go out with Felix, but that hectic night no one else could have given it to you. A little annoyed you clicked on his picture icon showing his profile, you almost sighed again, seeing how gorgeous he looks, a mirror selfie, wearing a black button up shirt, looking disinterestedly down at the device. You looked at his details, CEO of Sweet Factory, a globally known snacks brand you usually bought at some convenience stores, you had no idea it was his, his birthday, two days after yours, yet he was older than you by almost 10 years, his blood type and even his MBTI, you lowkey had skipped that question. Suddenly you reacted, you were going to see him again tomorrow, your heart was racing.

[…]

The next day you made use of that money and bought a strapped pale yellow thigh-length sequin-detailed dress from 16Arlington, with a square neckline; you spent the day shopping for the perfect complement to your outfit and rushed home to get ready.

Two hours before your meeting, Minho texted you again, asking if you wanted him to pick you up; to which you said yes. Now you were twice as nervous and anxious.

Minho arrived half an hour earlier than planned due to his reservation, you were unsure about giving him your address but you still did it, you wanted to act as normal as possible and not like he had to pay to get the best of you, a nice attitude and appearance.

You got into his car, he had his left arm relaxed and holding the steering wheel, he swept his eyes over you and a smile came across his face seeing you looking so cute and dolled up for him.

“Hello, again” you mumbled shyly.

Minho kept looking at you with a smile and started his car. The drive was not uncomfortable despite being silent, you saw his profile side from time to time and noticed how truly attractive he looked, his strong and sharp nose, his round eyes showing with his elongated eyelashes, his upper lip finely bigger than the lower one and his marked jaw, you could watch him for hours.

He was dressed all in black, with his button down shirt tight to his body and the sleeves rolled up his arms, he was wearing tight jeans that showed off his thick and worked thighs so appetizing, you wanted to suddenly let out a gasp thinking how much you want to feel like sitting on his lap. Minho knew you were looking at him shamelessly and it almost made him blush.

He looked relaxed, but he wasn't, he had meticulously practiced every word he would say to you tonight. He was slyly looking at you all of a sudden and couldn't contain his excitement.

You arrived at the same place where it all started, Hyunjin's hotel, this time heading towards the restaurant where Minho mentioned the reservation on your behalf and soon you were guided to the place, entering a beautifully lit place, inspired by Claude Monet's paintings. You walked behind Minho the whole time and when you reached his table you bit your lip nervously before sitting down. You wanted to build confidence so you looked him straight in the eyes and he quickly caught your gaze too; you said:

“If you wanted to invite me to dinner you should have done it like any normal person.”

Minho tried to act cool so as not to raise suspicion of his nervousness, he looked at you without interest and raised an eyebrow.

“Normal?”

“You were able to look up my Instagram and ask me without... having to pay me” you whispered the last sentence.

“You don't want the money?” he replied curtly as he lowered his gaze to the menu.

You didn't know what to answer, but before he could assume an answer you rushed to tell him.

“I can give it back to you.”

Minho let out a chuckle and raised his gaze again to you.

“I don't care, you can keep it. Just like… something you forgot at my place.”

You frowned and Minho reached into his pants pocket, leaving the pair of earrings he'd bought you on Saturday on the table, you'd forgotten all about it.

“Agh, the old excuse of forgetting something at the other person's house so I'd be forced to return it to you and have to see you.” Minho smiled, playfully, “They're yours, keep them.”

You smiled shyly and took them, putting them away in your bag, you wanted to argue that you had genuinely forgotten them, but seeing Minho this proud made you feel somehow happy, he looked cute with his sideways smile and bright gaze.

“You planned all this just to return me a pair of earrings?” you played along.

“They're real diamonds, sweetie.”

Then Minho stared at you, from your groomed hair to the perfect slit in your chest, it became serious for him, he had to say what he had to say.

“I want you to delete your account on that app and work for me” Minho suddenly blurted out, you manifested confusion on your face, not sure what he was referring to, so he continued, “… as my personal assistant. You will have to follow me everywhere and be with me all the time.” he said, in a funny and proud way the last sentence.

You were still speechless, you didn't know where that was suddenly coming from, to which Minho continued.

“I'll pay you well, more well than you can earn doing that, plus it's a decent job.” he proposed, practically begging.

“Why?” was all you could articulate.

“Because I want you to quit…”

You pinned your gaze on his big eyes that were shining brighter than usual.

“Why should I work for you.”

“Why would you want to be doing the other thing for money anyway?” he replied submissively, on a pretty and pity look of his you never saw before.

You blinked suddenly, formulating the right words.

“I mean, why would I work for you if I don't know you… I don't know what you do…”

“You didn't see my information in my account?” he replied now in a funny tone, “I know you're not related to companies so I won't make you do that. Think about it. I'll leave you my number, I know you're still in college, tell me your schedule.”

You released a soft laugh, suddenly not believing what he just said.

“What’s so funny?” he said serious. “I never joke about work.”

You nodded, trying to decipher every hidden message he wanted to give you.

“What are you going to order?” he smiled at you.

[…]

“He wants you so bad.” said Hari from the other line of the call.

“I was so confused the whole time, I'm afraid he just wants to you know, fuck me.”

“So? I thought you loved sex with him.”

“Yeah… it's just that it won't be far from reality, he'll pay me to fuck him.”

“What? Why the sudden embarrassment about expressing your sexuality? He'll pay you normally for working with him, the sex will add a special touch. So, will you take him up on his offer?”

“I don't know, Hari…”

“Doesn't it turn you on that he's an older man with experience and money crazy about you? Because it works on me with Chan all the time. it's so funny, they're so needy, you'll have him wrapping around you finger soon.”

You had really loved every part of having sex with Minho, but you were in doubt whether you would feel bad about taking the offer. But today had been dreamy, he was a gentleman with you, asked about you, looking interested and dropped you off at your place without even touching a hair on your head and looking at you with lust.

Then you got home, after a nice dinner with Minho, you did the inevitable and deleted your account and existence from that server. You had a lovely night, you didn't think you could exchange more than two words with Minho, but he wasn't as cold and curt as he wanted to portray himself after all; this time he opened the door for you as you got in and out of his car. On the other hand Minho was so obsessed and on the lookout for you that he knew instantly when you deleted all your information, causing him to smile, after 5 minutes a message telling him that you could start in the afternoon.

[...]

When you woke up the next day, the first thing you saw was a new message from Lee Minho, depositing more money and telling you it was for you to start your new closet of elegant outfits. And so after a couple of classes you headed out to buy your first Chanel suits suitable for work.

And there you were, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon wearing a tweed style skirt and pale pink coat. You were feeling pretty and extremely nervous. Minho's secretary greeted you kindly and showed you what she could on you way to Minho's office up to the top floor of the building.

“The young lady is here.” his secretary informed Minho over the phone.

Minho smiled broadly and swiveled on his chair, ready to see you walk through his door. And there you were, looking as angelic as ever, you had taken his breath away, no doubt all those outfits were made for you no matter what, or what you were wearing you looked beautiful in his eyes, Chanel, Versace, Gucci or Prada, or naked in his arms, either way you stole Minho's breath away. You smiled shyly at him and walked towards him, Minho quickly stood up from his chair and moved dangerously close to you, bringing your bodies together, you raised your gaze to see his eyes better.

“Welcome to your first day of work,” he whispered sweetly, “they'll explain everything better outside and give you a tour.”

You looked into his eyes and then straight to his lips, you realized you hadn't kissed him in three days and you were dying to feel it. Minho liked to tease you, bringing his body closer, looking provocatively at you from above with a lascivious look, he couldn't wait to taste you. After he achieved his goal and saw your breathing getting heavy, he pulled away from you with a playful smile.

“Get to work.” he said to you.

You almost whimper not feeling his touch.

[...]

The rest of the working girls tried to socialize with you with the hidden intention of finding out who you were and why someone so young would work for Lee Minho as his assistant. You didn't know what to answer them, really your career was not related to her work environment but you thought that... being an actress who must build her way little by little, maybe in one of those jobs you could have been the assistant of a famous actress so you thought so to motivate yourself and not to think that you were only doing it because in a way your body and mind were asking you to be close to Minho and the opportunity had been opportune. You needed him.

You worked the rest of the day while his secretary told you what to do and what your job was from today, set up Minho's meeting times, set up meetings, etc. Occasionally when he would leave his office and return to it, he would see you tenderly concentrating with a frown trying to figure out whatever you were doing on the computer. It didn't take long for the rest of his employees to notice and the gossip began to detonate without you noticing. You still awkwardly hoped for some message from Minho, telling you whatever, but talking to you, you were frustrated and desperate, he never wrote you or addressed you, so in a way you were happy that it was a normal job and he treats you decently as an employee, but another part of you was so sad that he wouldn't talk to you to sneak into his office and fuck you hard, not even to give him a simple blowjob, you thought.

Your day was about to end, between work and the occasional flirtation with men, of whom you were not interested in the least, the man you wanted was now locked in his office and had total command and the highest position in the pyramid.

Everyone was starting to leave and you realized that you didn't discuss your departure time with Minho, so, almost hopping towards his office, you were going to see him to ask him; hoping that your presence in that room would escalate to something else quickly.

You knocked softly on his door until you heard a “Come in” in a fiery demanding tone. You quickly arranged your hair and skirt before entering, until you stepped through the door. You met a serious and concentrated Minho reading some sheets on his desk, you didn't want to interrupt him, but he realizing that someone opened the door and no one spoke, was about to complain annoyed and frustrated until he saw you and his face relaxed and lit up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked you softly.

“Everyone is leaving, I was wondering if I should…”

“What time is it?” sighed Minho frustratedly checking the watch on his wrist. “Agh,” he gasped in exasperation closing his eyes and dropping back in his chair, which you found extremely appealing, “I didn't notice the time.”

You swayed on your spot, still not receiving a response as you watched Minho try to recover, he looked tired, after all he worked more than 12 hours a day. So you slowly approached him, trying to hide your smile and, without him noticing your actions, as he was carving his face hard to be able to strip a little, you were already in front of him, with your butt leaning on his desk. Minho saw you with surprise as he noticed you were close by and cheekily watched your silhouette as he smiled sideways in satisfaction.

“You look stressed…” you said seductively leaning towards him and massaging his shoulders. Minho closed his eyes enjoying your touch, he really did need something like this. “Can I help you?”

Minho opened his eyes watching you piercingly and lustfully, you were starting to make him horny and there was no turning back.

“Will you do it? Will you work overtime?” he answered you with a deep voice and smile plastered on his face enjoying every second of your company.

“I'd do it for free” you approached him, brushing the tip of your nose with his. “Besides it's for the good of the company's head.”

He let out a chuckle as he watched your lips inches away. Minho finally grabbed you around the waist and made you sit roughly on his lap, bringing his lips together slowly, being careful in every detail of the kiss, even intensifying it by playing with his tongue in your mouth. At last, you were back crazy, you felt so wet in seconds, and one of your fantasies came true, you were sitting on his firm legs, whose worked muscle was not the only hard thing, you could feel his hard erection sticking to your ass and your sex throbbing in desperation as if she had a memory of her own remembering the sensation of Minho's big cock choking inside you.

You could only hear the sharp sound of your heaving breaths and your lips check in wet kisses, you were so turned on you could cum from just kissing him, Minho started slow and passionate and that soon rose to something more desperate and rough, you loved every bit of it. Breathlessly, you broke away from him without breaking eye contact, he loved seeing your innocent eyes full of desire. You were so exasperated to feel his hands on your body so you awkwardly and excitedly began to unbutton your coat, your heart was pounding and you felt every beat pounding in your ears and your eyes throbbing with excitement. Minho watched your movements, your fingers struggling against the buttons until finally opening it, revealing your bare chest and abdomen only wearing your bra. Minho bit his lips completely horny, however he didn't agree that you had nothing down below on.

“You were walking around like that, with nothing on underneath” he tried to scold you.

You smiled playfully at his angry reaction. If that was his reaction of you wearing a bra, let alone the tiny, provocative underwear you were wearing in case he wanted to fuck you, and he was about to. Although Minho wanted a great fuck, something to say how much he missed you… but the way you were teasing him and playing like a slut, so he thought, drove him crazy, he couldn't stand the thought of you walking around susceptible to catching the attention of other men.

“You'll get angrier taking my skirt off, then” you moved closer to his left ear muttering.

Minho let out an annoyed sigh, almost snorting, he wanted to take your ass and whip it until he made you cry and understand that you could not provoke anyone but him. As you slowly pulled away, brushing his cheeks you saw Minho's dark stern countenance, he was no longer smiling enjoying himself and playing. You thought he looked fucking good this upset, that he even scared you a little, you smiled in nervousness.

“Take that off” he ordered you, smacked looking down at your bra and jacket.

You obeyed him instantly and, you still saw the darkness of desire in his big brown eyes, but his expression was still serious, annoyed. Minho settled you, turning your body with agility, so that your back was pressed against his chest, pulled your hair back from your right side and positioned his head next to yours between the space of your neck and shoulders. He stroked your thighs with his right hand until he slipped his large hand inside your skirt and deftly searched your delicious crease line from your clitoris to your soaking wet entrance. Minho smiled softly feeling your body contract at his slightest touch to your pussy. On the other hand, his left hand and forearm held and squeezed your breasts tightly; having you completely overwhelmed and compressed to his body roughly.

Minho parted the thin fabric of your underwear with his fingers while with the rest he began to play energetically with your pussy, massaging in slow and delicate movements your weak spot making you tremble and producing more and more slippery and thick fluids sliding down your entrance, you were so ecstatic. And, to further increase your pleasure combined with torture, he took it upon himself to pinch your nipples and squeeze your breasts hard. Minho never took his caresses away from your clitoris taking you to the extreme and in surprise he started to fuck you with two of his long fingers quickly causing you to let out a little scream.

Every now and then you let your head lean back on your boss's shoulder giving you pleasure, your body was tense, every muscle in you felt stiff from the position you were in and the sudden pleasure you were getting. You were about to relax, let go and cum, but once Minho noticed, he abruptly released you and took your chin to look at him, leaving you no time to whine about your first missed orgasm.

“Suck my cock now” he commanded you fiercely almost pushing your head down.

You opened your mouth in amazement, until you got on your knees and stripped him of his tight belt and his suffocating pants and underwear. Even your mouth became wet as you saw again Minho's big manhood firm and hard in front of your eyes, you were so ready for the to suck him off. You felt it so exquisitely in your hands, there was no other cock like Minho's you had ever tasted, let alone wanted to surpass, you loved that it was perfect and so well kept, Minho kept his area very well waxed and clean; you couldn't tell it was to size because it hurt from how swollen and big it was as he fucked you through your vagina.

You leered at Minho, heart and pussy throbbing; he was looking down at you from above with a serious expression, his mouth was pulled together in a thin line and his trademark high cheekbones on his face showing no emotion, you knew he was aroused by his breathing and his latent cock in your hand. You stuck out your tongue and flicked his hard cock in it, while making eye contact with him for a few seconds. You sighed and began to devour his manhood. Minho gasped, grabbed your hair in a fist and lifted his hips a little, accidentally ramming your mouth making his cock reach to touch a little deeper into your palatal uvula.

“Fuck me deeper, princess” Minho whined, pushing your head and moving his hips.

It was huge, you took slight gasps of air every now and then, you were pleasurably suffering, your eyes were watering, you were leaking cum and saliva and Minho's gasps and little grunts were your favorite soundtrack, you were delighted both sensorially and aurally. Minho pushed you further until you felt him touch your throat a little, your body reacted and he quickly pulled your hair back, pulling his full length out of your mouth all at once, the sudden movement made it splash little droplets of liquid in the air falling on your bare tits, you were a mess, your lips and tip of your nose were red and swollen, your eyes were watering, and you were so flushed, you tried to catch your breath, looking loosely towards Minho who smiled so broadly showing his teeth, his tender uneven front incisors in the shape of a bunny.

“Oh, look at you” he said huskily in a look of pure pride, seeing his greatest treasure, your pleasure.

Minho, extremely excited took the base of his stiff cock with his fingers and wiggled it close to your face, slapping your pretty face gently.

“Come here and show me your nice ass, love.”

You gave everything to stand up again, you were weak, trembling and so soaked in your fluids. He turned you roughly by the waist, making you rest your palms on his desk. You raised your ass for him and arduously Milnho tried to pull up your skirt but the material was somewhat thick and unmanageable.

“Take my skirt off” you whimpered in supplication as you felt his hands run up and down your thighs.

“You have no right to tell me what to do unless I ask you to” Minho demanded and roughly pulled the skirt up as best he could, squeezing your waist tighter due to it being high waisted, you groaned at the friction.

Minho finally stood up, stroking your soft buttocks, his outside cock jumping at the movement. You felt the tip of his cock rub against your skin even though he was withdrawn, you wanted him to fuck you now, you wanted it to ache so good just the way he knew how.

Minho took his time, sliding down your soaked panties, appreciating the sweet liquid dripping into you, once he pulled the fabric down.

“Shit, y/n, did you cum already or are you just this wet?” he said in a sigh, sad that you didn't deserve to have your pussy eaten today.

You nodded and whimpered as you felt an unexpectedly hard spank.

“Yes what? I'm not a fucking mind reader, use your words.”

“I-i'm so wet” you whined.

“All that…?” Minho let out a haughty chuckle, thinking all that, just for a few touches from him. “Now, how many spankings for you to understand that you shouldn't act like a whore and go around with nothing on under your work clothes? Speak up!”

You couldn't think straight, last time Minho whipped you so hard that he left you sore for at least up to twelve hours after the blow.

“Five” you stammered without reasoning it out. Minho laughed derisively.

“Let's make it ten because I really met you being a fucking whore. Count them or we start again from zero.”

You screamed as you felt the first spank and gasped breathlessly “One.”

By the fourth spank you couldn't take it anymore, his hand was too heavy and the sound of the smack against your skin was so grotesque. You leaned limply back on your elbows on his desk, biting your lip hard and almost crying, you were still saying the scourge number as you were not thinking clearly, you did not want to be hit twice as hard again. Despite feeling so much pain, you felt strangely so much pleasure, you could feel the tip of Minho's cock brush against your entrance as he came on you.

“Did you learn your lesson, baby?”

“Yes” you cried, your buttocks were burning and you felt the flow of your blood travel fast fighting for your well being.

“Did it hurt?” whispered Minho excitedly leaning into your ear.

“Yes” you pleaded again.

You felt his rough balls and penis rub against your spine, then he pulled away from you, Minho unbuttoned his shirt quickly so it wouldn't get in the way of what he was about to do and, without warning, finally you cried out as you felt him all the way inside of you.

“So you want me to go slow, doll?” he asked ecstatically.

But despite your growing pain, you denied, you wanted to feel every millimeter of his cock inside, you had been looking forward to it so much that you even endured horrible strokes.

“No?” asked Minho incredulously. “Well, you said it. You love being fucked like a slut.”

And he began to penetrate you roughly and deeply, touching your sensitive buttocks; it felt so good, reaching all the way to your cervix with no problem. You gasped endlessly, it was pleasure to feel his cock filling your pussy roughly and your miserable body destroyed, strangely you loved it.

“I'm going to fill your pretty pussy, I'm going to cum in you, you like that, yes?” panted Minho speeding up his onslaught.

After minutes of thundering sex, your bodies joined together creating moaning sounds and skin on skin collisions, your aching body could take no more and you exploded enveloping and lubricating more of Minho's veiny cock, which was still thrusting in and out mercilessly, until after a small whimper, Minho's abdomen contracted and he cursed something barely understandable throwing his head back in complete pleasure, filling your insides with his semen. He slowly slid his length outward, opening your tight pussy a little with his thumbs, satisfied at the grotesque scene of his cock emerging from your orifice bathed in his thick white liquid.

You lay there for a few seconds, sprawled on his desk trying to catch your breath while Minho did the same, resting his cock on your buttocks. He tried to lift you up, you were in pain and lying down, he made you turn to look at him, cleaned the rest of the residue around your mouth and kissed you sweetly.

You received the first care after Minho's sex.

[…]

Your butt hurt so bad but you still followed Minho home since, according to him he had an important meeting at another company and wanted you to help him pick out the perfect outfit. And then you walked into his huge closet, almost making you sigh, it was a room that could easily be for rent in a crowded city like this. His shelves with his Gucci suitcases, his bags perfectly arranged and hung, you stopped looking perplexed at the space and returned your gaze to Minho who was watching you.

“What should I wear?” he said.

You walked over to the clothes and started searching without any idea in mind, you didn't know what he had in his closet so it was hard to think of the perfect outfit, you knew he would outshine any simple businessman anyway. You grabbed clothes at random choosing a white shirt, pants, jacket and tie, all in black.

“It looks good, do you want me to try it on?”

You mumbled a soft “Mm?”, but you were surprised to see Minho look down at his pants as he took them off, embarrassed you reflexively looked away as if you hadn't seen it all before. He noticed your reaction and smiled. However you couldn't help it, you had never seen him get dressed before so looking guilty and slyly you managed to see how the pants went up with agility but got slightly stuck on his package, Minho had to adjust it and, he put on the shirt so attractively raising his arms and sliding them inside the sleeves. Minho took your hand and directed it towards the terminals of it, indicating you to help him button it, he watched you carefully, wishing he could live like this with you on a daily basis. Suddenly the tension grew in you again, you looked up, into his eyes….

“It looks good on you” you murmured in front of his face.

Minho pulled you to his body pushing your ass ready to kiss you, but you moaned in pain.

“How can I make it up to you?” he said sympathetically noticing your pain.

You didn't know what to reply, to which Minho silenced your thoughts with a tender, slow kiss. Without realizing it and very carefully, you sat down on the stool in the middle of the closet; Minho was ready to make you happy again. He spread your legs apart and once again ruined your skirt by roughly lifting it up, he fiddled with your cunt which was just starting to get wet, Minho thought it looked just as nice and tidy, almost as if a few hours ago it hadn't been completely destroyed.

Minho buried his head between your legs, positioning your legs on his shoulders, he squeezed your thighs hard and you felt some of his warm saliva lubricate your pussy further. He was devouring you alive. His tongue digging at your entrance and his nose rubbing your center, you rolled your eyes in pure pleasure.

[…]

You had mentioned to Minho that you would be more comfortable if he took you home, so he did, he offered you to stay with the condition that early in the morning he could not attend you, that even when you were able to wake up he would not be at home due to his important day of meetings, so he would be at each of them as early as possible.

You said goodbye to him, both with an intense look and warm smile. You headed to your apartment and to your surprise, Felix was waiting at your door.

“Sorry, I wanted to see you and you weren't answering your messages” Felix sketched a smile once he saw.

Felix examined you and noticed your expensive suit, but wanted to save himself the question, he sensed something was up and preferred to live in ignorance than to know something that could hurt him. You smiled tenderly at him and invited him in.

“I missed you” he said and kissed you quickly on the cheek.

You felt horrible, he had stolen that kiss from you but… even if you had washed your face, you had had another man's cock around your face. You knew you and Minho weren't exclusive but… you couldn't be with two men at once. But the way Minho drove you crazy, there was no comparison, his sex slapping against yours, his skill in everything he does, making you beg if necessary.

“Is something wrong?” you were distracted by Felix, you denied softly. “Will you sit down?”

Oh, you couldn't do it, your ass was still burning with pain from Minho's spanking. And you weren't the least bit upset.

[…]

The next day was just as Minho had told you, he would be busy outside the company, you almost didn't see him even though you followed him everywhere as his assistant. There you were, in 7 different waiting rooms, just watching him move around with other executives as you tried to keep up with them. You could tell how focused he was and how important it was to him because he barely saw you.

Once his long day was over, almost two hours before the end of the working hours he set for the workers, you both walked silently to the car where the driver started off towards Minho's company.

You looked at him, he was serious, wearing exactly the suit you had chosen for him and, he almost seemed annoyed, you wanted to ask him what it was that suddenly made him angry, but he turned to look at you and smiled sideways, caressing your hand that rested on that long seat, both were sitting at each end of the side of the window.

After the silent ride, Minho went straight to his office and you felt like you were stranded there. Ten minutes later you got a message from him that he wanted you in his office now. You smiled, thinking he would be willing to talk.

You walked in and once he saw you, he held up his hands waving them in a sign for you to come closer.

“Come here.” he ordered you.

You walked confused and understood that he wanted you on his lap so you sat down… it wasn't the kind of encounter you projected, you really thought he wanted to talk but… if he wanted to do that, you didn't complain.

Minho suddenly had a sad, sorrowful look on his face and, there it was in him, the question that drove him crazy.

“Tell me, y/n, have you been with other men?” he suddenly blurted out.

You watched him for a few seconds examining his expression… that puzzled you too much, he seemed genuinely sad. You didn't know what to say, so you laughed in nervousness, thinking about what kind of question that was. Why he suddenly cared.

Minho had had a horrible experience among pure men, secreting contemptuously about girls like you, at least about your version of the secret, past life of yours. Something inside of him… he became angry little by little, until he felt stranded, he couldn't think about the fact that you were touched by someone else and, the worst was when he had to see how other guys approached you to flirt with you during his little business trip.

Minho saw you laugh but didn't find it the least bit funny, he actually almost cried in front of you, asking you that question.

“Well, clearly I'm not a saint…”

“I am referring to men before me who also received your… former service.”

You stared at him trying to decide if he was drunk from his nonsensical questions. But Minho was only crazy about you, it was his doom in dope. He couldn't resist it, little by little he realized, that he wanted you together with him and for him.

You laughed again and without answering him you kissed him, you had never seen him so yielded and submissive, his eyes shone almost wanting to shed tears, strong emotions made Minho sentimental despite being a rough man. You didn't think he was like that.

And for the first time he let you take control, he felt so lost in you, you lowered your kisses down his neck, unsure if you should continue, Minho saw you hesitating before him and placed his hand over yours near his shirt. He looked you straight in the eyes, suddenly darker than usual and said:

“Let's do something fun tonight.”

You smiled. There was the Minho you knew. He let you unbutton his shirt and a matter of a couple of minutes, your desperate hands masturbated his cock as you sought to adjust it to your pussy, mounting him in his chair. That dangerous game was getting out of hand, you felt so good that without thinking about it you could become obsessed.

Hours later that night, Minho took you to his room where you quickly noticed sex toys lying on the bed. You swallowed and let out an incredulous chuckle and looked at Minho who was calmly taking off his watch leaving it on his TV cabinet without paying attention to you. You liked his definition of fun.

“I can't believe it, you're like Christian Grey in real life.” you said amused.

Minho turned to look at you.

“Who?”

“You don't know 50 shad-, never mind, you must be too old for that.”

He smiled sideways at your comment and moved dangerously close to you.

“You think I'm too old for you?” he whispered to you.

You denied in amusement biting your lip, you loved it when he had the dominant one.

“Let's try something new,” he spoke curtly “get undressed.”

Your imagination flew at the sight of the objects on the bed and you nimbly stripped off all your clothes, waiting for more orders from Minho.

“Get on your knees on the bed.”

Confused, you tried to follow his instructions and, you saw him take the pink rope from the bed, your breath hitched, thinking he was going to tie you up.

“You know how I love camping? I'm very good with knots.” you looked at him smiling.

Minho slowly started to wrap you in that rope, passing it across your abdomen, breasts, tying your wrists behind your back, as well as your feet and suddenly you had lost your balance, you were completely immobile and tied tightly.

“We should go camping sometime.” you replied.

He took the ball gag and without saying anything, placed it in your mouth, this was getting interesting for you. You were lying on your side, impossible to move, Minho arranged you so that you were facing him, uncomfortable in your position as your hands and legs were attacked right behind.

And then the tantalizing game began, with Minho taking the vibrator he had prepared, sticking it on your clitoris as you moved in desperation in search of relaxation of your muscles, thinking about how you had come this far, being sexually pleasured every day.

“I'm going to fuck you hard” he warned you.

He did it the only way he could get away with it, your moans were drowned out by the ball gag and Minho faced the amusing and slightly humiliating sight of your needy body, wanting to escape the restraints.

Minho loved sex with you and the myriad of sensations you made him feel… but now he was so curious that there was connection beyond something sexual. He wanted to walk you and spoil you while you dressed so pretty for him. He would do anything for you.

[…]

“What is y/n doing here?” asked Hyunjin as he approached Minho.

Hyunjin had visited him since, despite being busy, he had something important to tell him. However your presence on his way to Minho's office surprised him.

“She works here.” replied Minho, leaning on his desk reading papers and not looking at Hyunjin.

“She works here? Isn't she like 20?” he repeated incredulously.

This time Minho raised his eyes and gave him a dirty look. Hyunjin understood instantly, the almost forgotten detail he noticed from the beginning, the obviousness in which Minho liked you.

“Speaking of age” Hyunjin continued, “I'm here because you know I don't hold back surprises and… you're very likely to ditch me or cancel at the last minute on the date, but this is something you can't cancel, since it's about your surprise birthday party.”

Minho looked at him confused, he hadn't even asked for a party.

“Hyunjin, I appreciate it but… you know you could have done something small.”

“I know, I remembered it once I had invited everyone. It will be this Saturday at my mother's country club. You got to celebrate welcoming your thirties.”

Minho checked the time, he didn't want to rush Hyunjin but you and him would have their first normal date…

And for both of you, it couldn't have been better, you talked so much, you knew Minho's various giggles and the weirdness in which he explained each of his stories, using gestures, you remembered every detail about him. Just like his sudden news that he would help you in your real professional career, you didn't want to accept it at first, but he had awkwardly said something to about how pretty you would look on every red carpet, blushing all over you. And you found yourself terrified that… you might like him. Since you'd had everything just the way you envisioned, a tender, perfect date, involving roses and ending… having sex so sweetly it makes you doubt if it's love.

You had asked Minho to give you the next day off, since you wanted to support Felix all the time in his short film project that he created and directed. The ceremony started and, almost like a revelation, you wanted to cry, it had been beautiful and it was about love, something unknown to you… you wondered if… after all… it could be Minho the person with whom you could cry without worry.

Felix saw you sad and knew you so well that he understood every single sign you gave as if you were in love, but sadly, they were not towards him. It was time to let you go.

And to you, almost as if reading your mind, you received a message from Minho, saying he was having a party tomorrow and needed you to help him pick out an outfit.

[…]

Everything was ready thanks to Hyunjin, people chatting with champagne glasses in their hands on the large green grassy area celebrating Minho's birthday in advance. You thought he looked so good in well pressed black cloth pants, black boots and a light blue shirt, with the Gucci cherry baseball jacket with white adding a great touch.

When you sat down to eat at the elongated table, you sat next to Minho, who, with a mischievous smile, and under the table, with guests present, slipped his hand under your dress, playing with your pussy a little. You thought he was unbelievable, always looking for an excuse to have your attention and reaction, you stopped him, once you were so wet and you were barely going to get to slowly approach your climax.

“Excuse us” Minho said grabbing you by your forearm, making you stand up.

Minho couldn't hold it in any longer. The crowd made him anxious and he found a certain safe space in you, so he dragged you out of sight of the crowd, and as he did so, you managed to quickly grab a cupcake from the dessert table.

You were about to eat your cupcake, slightly disinterested in whatever Minho was going to tell you, until you looked at Minho's pale expression, it alarmed you a little, you blinked worriedly but he interrupted you.

“I want you to be mine, I want to help in whatever you do, I want to be there for you all the time…”

Minho spoke, only as he knows how, trying to be gentle, but with a certain intensity in his actions and look.

You smiled sweetly, thinking of the rare way to say 'I like you', playfully smeared a bit of cupcake cream on the tip of his nose, causing him to tenderly giggle.

“I like you too, Minho.”

You smiled and licked the polish off his nose. Minho grabbed you by the waist bringing your bodies closer and looked at you sweetly.

“Tomorrow is your birthday, what do you want to do? I would do anything for you.”

--------------------

₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @stayceebs97 @linocz @kimseungminsprincess @xhazmania @strayzid

#lee know #lee know skz #lee know stray kids #lee know smut #skz scenarios #stray kids #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #skz smut #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #kpop smut #Spotify

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months

Text

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : porn with little plot, pure filth actually (quite self-indulgent), slight food play?, food sharing, slight public teasing if you squint, essentially just xavier being a little shit (again), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, cum eating, praise, use of pet name "angel", references to "childhood snacks" secret times, lmk if i missed any tags!! ((unedited))

wc : 4.5k

an : has NO ONE ELSE noticed how often strawberry is mentioned in xavier's cards?!!! and also, thank you for 500+ follows where did you all come from omg,,,

You were far better than any candy.

It wasn't often that the two of you got to spend a day outside together.

With how your occupations treated the both of you, most of your days off were much-preferred to be spent indoors—cuddling, watching a movie, or whatnot... and Xavier, of course, was always very fond on catching up on his sleep. Not that you ever minded; in fact, you found those extra days of simple rest very welcome. In your little afternoon naps, Xavier's presence by your side was always comfortable under the warmth of the sunlight.

But...

Sometimes, days like this were just as welcome.

Despite the Linkon heat, you wore a big smile on your face as Xavier helped you off the viking ride, gently guiding you as you stepped out of the ceramic boat. You dusted off your dress, looking back at the boat with a wistful gaze.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" He echoed your thoughts, slowly lacing his fingers together with yours in the exact way that made your heart flutter.

You looked back at him with another smile, falling into step with him. In your mind you recalled the brush of the wind in your faces as the ride swung higher and higher, the thump in your heart recalling the thrill of it and turning your smile into a full-blown grin. "Yeah!" you nodded enthusiastically. "I'm glad we went with your suggestion. Starting off with the more relaxing rides and working our way to the fun ones... You get to feel the thrill all the more!"

You caught the way his gaze softened, and he gently squeezed your wrist. "The face you make when you're excited is really pretty."

His comment came casually, and he nodded lightly to himself, almost as if confirming his statement as a pink blush slowly made its way to the tips of your ears.

"When you're embarrassed, too," he added with a smile.

You would never tire of it—how he would always make you fluster with his words, so nonchalant, so unexpected. He had that sort of habit, especially with you—the gall he had to present himself so unassuming and casual, you could never understand it, but it did the job quite well and sent your heart for a ride of its own.

With a little huff, you looked away. "You, too, then!" you could tease back normally, but this time, your response held a little less bite to it, and Xavier laughed.

"If that's how you feel, then I won't complain."

The two of you paused in front of a souvenir shop, and immediately, you felt your eyes brighten. Your grip on his hand tightened. "Xavier—"

"You want to go, right?" He had that same, knowing, gentle smile on his face, and he inclined his head towards the entrance. "Sure, then."

"But... you have to come with me!" Again, you tugged at his arm.

But there was a glint in his eyes, almost as if he knew what you were planning.

Xavier shook his head. "How about this? You can surprise me with something from this shop... And then it'll be my turn to surprise you at the next one we come across." He made a quick glance at the map in his other hand. "I think it sounds fair. Don't you?"

You could pout at his words, but there was truth in what he spoke—even as you looked at him inquisitively, you could find nothing that showed he wouldn't keep this promise, and there was no reason to refuse.

Except...

Curiously, you peered at him.

"You should know exactly what's in store for you," you narrowed your eyes playfully. "Why are you indulging me today?"

Xavier shrugged, then, and even the smile on his lips couldn't prepare you for his next statement, so raw, and honest, and genuine that it made your heart turn—"I like seeing you happy."

There wasn't an ounce of mirth in his eyes when he spoke this, and perhaps, though he was normally straightforward with you and affectionate like this at the most random of times, it would never prevent the butterflies from racing in your stomach.

Blushing, you turned away, letting go of his hand and walking to the store.

"...Wait for me here, then!"

And perhaps, it could have been part of his plan to ease you out of bullying him the way you often did, for it surely worked:

You returned out of the store not with matching bunny headbands like you'd originally intended, but cat ones, instead.

Close enough, you thought.

With a small smile, you shielded your eyes from the sun and glanced around for Xavier, only to spot him lounging near an empty bench by the fountain. It was closer to the bushes and a lot cooler with the breeze, seeing as it was a spot much further away from the crowds of people. His legs were crossed as he flipped through the pages of one of his little pocket books, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, no doubt a sign that he, too, was feeling a little hot with the noontime sun at its peak.

As you approached with the headbands in your hand, your footsteps slowed when you noticed him reach upwards to brush the hair out of his face, his mouth opening slightly to guide the lollipop he had from one side of his cheek to the other.

Despite yourself, you gulped—

And curse how attractive of a boyfriend you truly had.

When he looked up at you, you'd barely registered for yourself that you had settled down to sit beside him, and his eyes drifted to the headbands in your hand.

"...Cat headbands?" He momentarily took the lollipop out of his mouth and raised his eyebrows at you, clearly amused. "I was expecting something else."

But you didn't reply.

Your eyes met, then, and a small, tiny tiny little smirk played on his face. It told you everything you needed to know.

Instead, you noted the slight stick of candy on the corner of his mouth, and when he put the treat back in, you barely noticed the way he took the headband from you and promptly put it over his head. Your eyes instead were focused on the way he languidly swirled his tongue over the candy.

He let out a hum of consideration as he looked at himself through the locked screen of his phone, but when the lollipop shifted around in his mouth again, his eyes turned back to you—

You had been caught.

Instinctively, you pulled your hand away from him, but he was quick as he held it in place, slowly sliding the lollipop back out of his mouth and twirling the stick between his thumb and his forefinger thoughtfully.

"This? Oh... Someone came by with all sorts of candies to sell. The children were crowding him, but I managed to get one." His gaze switched from the lollipop and then back to your face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sorry, angel... Did you want one, too?"

"You, um.... You didn't tell me you were gonna get one..." Your voice was thick when you spoke, and you fumbled slightly with your words.

He smiled.

Something in you told you it would be dangerous if you dared to answer, but you found that you couldn't look away from him. "...Mhm," you nodded your head, honestly speaking, even as your breath caught in your throat when he reached over to stroke the side of your face.

"We can look for a candy store next," he murmured.

You watched his eyes drop to your mouth, and he slid the thumb of his hand slowly down to your lip, his smile almost widening at the way your jaw dropped opening ever so slightly.

"Guess you don't want to wait."

Without waiting, his other hand, holding the lollipop, still wet and half-dissolved from how it had stayed in his mouth prior to your arrival, and slid it into yours. Your gazes locked as you instinctively curled your tongue around the candy, wandering over every inch of it, taking in its flavor before swallowing.

And he smiled.

"It's strawberry bubblegum," he nodded at you, again speaking somewhat matter-of-factly, but that same sly, sly smile was still plastered on his face.

Then he pushed.

A slow, filling push, as he slid the pop further into your mouth.

You gasped at the feeling, unable to help the way you sucked on the candy, unable to stop yourself from maintaining eye contact and seeing every little way pure delight would make its way to his features.

Your tongue swirled over the lollipop, lips parting when he withdrew it, feeling the way your mouth would stick with sweetness before he was guiding it back into you, twirling the stick between his fingers and allowing you to taste it again, and again. And he remained silent as he did it; slowly, precisely guiding the treat in and out of your mouth, having you breathe carefully through your nose as you looked up at him with your eyes half-lidded.

The edges of your mouth were coated with saliva and melted sugar, sticky as you swallowed all of the flavor that you could, dissolving the candy with your tongue as much as you possibly could.

When the candy remaining on the stick was considerably small, he pulled the treat out of your mouth and back into his, biting it off with an almost cheeky grin.

"It's good, isn't it?" he hummed, making a show of licking his fingers clean in front of you, watching as your eyes shifted to once again follow the movements of his tongue, and smirking slightly as your breathing became short and quick.

"Something wrong, angel?" he tilted your head back up to meet his eyes, voice so soft that you could melt. He noted the way your skin was wet and sticky, shining with the residue of the candy, and he didn't wait for your answer.

Instead, he leaned over to lap at your chin, quick, small kitten licks up your jawline until he was kissing you, making you taste the thick, sweet flavor of the strawberry lollipop still llingering in your mouths.

When he pulled away, you were dazed, your heartbeat erratic, barely processing the way he handed you a wipe to actually properly clean your face, your lips turning down into a pout.

"...You're unfair, Xavier," you whined.

You pouted even as he placed your headband onto your head, clearly smiling with satisfaction at the way the both of you matched.

"Why's that, angel?" he hummed, feigning innocence like he often did.

And it pissed you off, it really did—he was infuriating when he wanted to be, even after all he'd done just now, the taste of the candy still lingering on the tip of your tongue.

"Oh, come on! How can you do all of that and act like nothing happened?" you huffed. "I want you..."

His eyes crinkled up in joy as he laughed, reaching over to pat your head. "But we're here for the rides, aren't we? You said you'd go on all of them."

When you crossed your arms and looked away, pressing your thighs together in a way that he definitely noticed, he only chuckled once more and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head.

"Later," he murmured, "I promise. But for now... We shouldn't waste our admission tickets."

You couldn't argue after that.

He had a point, after all—and luckily for you, in the end, it wasn't too hard for you to let your arousal slip off your mind for the rest of the day.

Instead, you simply enjoyed being in his company.

Each ride you took, from the drop tower to the rollercoaster to even a little game of bumper cars, was as exhilarating as the last. Even winning a target game against him by barely a single point had you jumping up and down with glee, your arm carrying a big, fluffy white bunny that you confidently stated looked a lot like him. And almost like an unspoken promise, he didn't tease you any more than he already had—the cotton candy remained cotton candy, the marshmallows remained marshmallows, and the animal crackers were eaten just as they should be.

By the time you both had walked back to your apartment, the little bag in his hand containing whatever "surprise" he'd gotten for you rustled against his wrist, and you peered curiously into it once you settled with him on the couch.

"Candy?" you questioned doubtfully as you pulled out a little packet of licorcice, but your eyes shone when you eagerly popped it into your mouth and chewed.

Xavier shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "That... last time we tried snacks together was fun, so I figured you'd appreciate another one."

You almost laughed. "But those were my childhood snacks! These are just your typical candy! We could've tried these any day, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow, taking a chewable candy into his mouth. "We could've worn animal ears any other day, too."

This time you grinned, and settled into his arms. "Yeah, you're right. I have a sweet tooth, anyway, so I'll gladly eat candy with you. You didn't need to set this up..."

You fished into the bag and pulled out a smaller bag of chocolate bits, its brand unfamiliar to you as you held it up.

"Oh, I thought you'd like that one," Xavier spoke first this time. "You like milk chocolate, don't you?"

Something in your heart sparked at the mention, and you couldn't help but smile. "You remembered!"

Your hands were eager as you opened up the packet, unwrapping one piece and putting it into your mouth.

The first bite had your eyes sparkling wide, noting how it melted into your mouth as you chewed.

Xavier looked at you, amused. "Is it good?"

You were excited as you took out another piece of chocolate, and you nodded—this time, you closed your eyes to savor the taste, letting yourself relax into the richness of its flavor. "Mmm... t'so good..." You'd barely noticed the way your satisfaction had the tone of your words twisting into something mildly inappropriate, your eyes still closed as you chewed. And you couldn't have registered that particular smile edge at Xavier's lips once more.

But Xavier wouldn't let you off the hook that easily.

"Hmm. Could I try some?" His voice was close to your ear when he murmured out his words, but you were happy to oblige him, clearly not catching onto his intentions.

You held up the bag of chocolates for him, taking yet another into your mouth—

Instead, he smirked down at you and gently set the chocolates back into the bag with the rest of the candy, pushing it off the couch as his lips found yours.

Your eyes widened, his tongue mixing with yours and tasting for himself the milkiness of the chocolate you'd eaten, his own eyes half-lidded as he lowered you onto the couch. When your head hit the armrest, all sense of arousal from earlier at the theme park came rushing back to you in waves, and you gave in.

Xavier pulled away only to kiss you once more with increasing fervor, and you moaned into the kiss, feeling any rational thought seep from your head within seconds. Your arms were around his neck and his hand was in your hair, your clothed bodies flush against each other as the kiss, the moment, became steadily more passionate, steadily more heated.

The bag of candy slumped on the ground beside the couch, easily long-forgotten with the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue soft and wet in your mouth as the heat slowly began to crawl over to your cheeks. When he pulled back, you were flushed, breathless. His body hovered over yours, his hair hanging over your face, his eyes displaying a lingering sense of desire that mirrored your own.

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah," Xavier breathed, his voice hushed. He licked his lips. "The chocolate tastes good."

You could barely believe he was still talking about that.

"I-I don—"

"But... I have an idea of what would taste better."

He cut off the beginnings of your protest with a little smirk, and you could see the way his eyes raked over your body to where the skirt of your dress had ridden up just enough to expose the side of your panties.

Your heart thrummed loudly in your chest.

"Wh- what would that be?" You tried testing him, tried to look into his eyes to gauge what his next move was.

"You don't know, angel?" He murmured as he drew closer to you once more, lips barely touching yours, his hot breath fanning over your face.

Feebly, you whimpered, but you didn't dare make a move.

Xavier dipped down to bury his face into your neck, and breathed in deeply. "You smell like strawberries."

Your breath hitched.

"Did you plan this? Your lotion... It's new."

You felt his hands snake underneath your dress, pushing the fabric upwards to grip firmly on your waist. The contact on your bare skin made your eyelids flutter closed.

"F-for you," you replied, your breath shaky.

"For me?"

"Y-you... You like strawberry, so I thought I, um... would make you happy with it..."

Xavier pulled back away from you with a warm smile, his hand leaving your waist momentarily to brush the hair out of his face.

"You always make me happy no matter what you do, angel," he spoke sincerely, genuinely, despite the heated moment that the both of you had just shared. But his eyes narrowed almost playfully, and he tilted his head to the side with a short laugh. "But you don't know how much I've been waiting to eat you up because of that scent."

His words made you whine, a mixture of both pride and embarrassment coarsing through your body at the fact that you had been the one to get him all needy like this for you.

"So, angel..." Xavier trailed his fingertips over your thighs, pushing them apart as he shifted downwards, closer to your core. Another smile teased at his lips when your breath hitched, but his eyes never left yours. "May I?"

You threaded your hands into his hair, and your eyes fell closed.

"Okay."

His lips were on your thighs then, warm and soft as he trailed his kisses upwards. And the sensation of it all made you shiver, but you could almost feel the way it affected him, too. He'd let out soft sighs against your skin, drinking in your scent and your warmth, and then his kisses would almost get needier, craving you just as much as he made you crave him.

You gasped the minute he pressed himself closer to your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent yet again and then poking his tongue out at the wetness that had gathered in your center. Then from there, his movements became quick—his hands shifted beneath your hips, lifting them upwards towards him, your legs draped over his shoulders as he pushed your panties to the side. You couldn't help the way your mouth fell open with a drawn-out moan of his name once he ran his tongue through your folds, licking a wet stripe from your slit upwards.

Your fingers gripped desperately into his hair.

Such a simple motion already had you reeling.

"You even taste like fucking strawberries," he mumbled, before he repeated the motions, long, slow, languid licks that geadually turned to gentle lapping at your wetness. His tongue moved upwards to flick occasionally at your clit, and you could revel in the way he looked—so lost in your taste, his quiet groans reverberating through your body.

And then your thighs trembled around his head, and your eyes widened at the smooth, silky prodding of his tongue as it finally slid inside of you.

"O- oh, god," you leaned your head back against the armrest of his couch, your eyes falling shut once more.

You could have sworn you felt him smile.

With another moan, your hand fell from his head back onto the couch, searching for purchase only for him to reach out, taking advantage of the way you arched your back, and catch your hand with his.

He laced your fingers through together even as he continued to swirl his tongue in your heat, drinking up your arousal, pressing his face closer and closer into you—despite the obscenity of his ministrations and the noises that fell from your lips, the simple action of holding your hand almost made you swoon.

And he didn't dare let go of it.

"I— haah— Xavi—!"

Feeling a familiar knot form in your stomach, you began to languidly roll your hips against his face, matching the way his tongue would dance over and in your folds. In response, Xavier moved with fervor in his actions, focusing on sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue in ways he knew you loved best.

You barely noticed the way his other hand had also left its spot by your hips before a finger entered where his tongue had earlier been—he hooked it inwards, curling just right to hit your sensitive spot, and you let out another loud moan.

"Fuck—! X-Xavier!" You threw your head back, gripping his hand tightly, your other digging desperately into his couch. Your body writhed, a sharp rush of pleasure making you shudder and cry out more of his name as he continued to swirl around your clit, and another finger carefully prodded at your hole.

You couldn't see the way he smiled at you, but you felt it—felt it in the way he sucked on your bud, felt it in the way he stretched you out and moved his fingers in and out of you, until you snapped.

Your hips bucked upwards and into him, holding in place, as your body succumbed to the pleasure.

"X—Xavi—er!" You cried, and his hand holding yours made sweet, gentle caresses over your skin, his tongue still lapping up all that you had to give him. He let out a hum as he moved from your cunt, to your thighs, to your belly, and up to the exposed skin on your neck, leaving a loving trail of kisses, and then he rest his forehead against yours.

"Did that feel nice?" he whispered, lips meeting yours in quick, fond pecks, blue eyes nearly shimmering with how much affection he held for you.

It was more than nice, you thought, but you answered him with a kiss. And as he continued to kiss you back, Xavier edged his hand downwards, slowly, slowly, before the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance—

The contact made you gasp and arch upwards. "Xavi—?!"

"Nnh... Please, angel?" He sighed, nuzzling your nose, massaging your hand. "'M not done with you yet. You can give me more, right?"

You whimpered.

You could feel the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm, unsure if you could truly push yourself for another one. But his cockhead would dip in so... nicely. Xavier was teasing, testing you as he waited for your reply—

And you couldn't resist.

When you gave him a feeble nod, he smiled.

"That's my girl."

The praise made you shiver with delight as he pushed into you slowly, setting an unhurried place, his lips back onto your skin as he nibbled just over your collarbone.

"Ngh... Xavier..." you whined as he slid all the way into you and his teeth grazed your skin, the sting of his bite somewhat foreign, but not unwelcome. "T-tomorrow, we have a..."

"Wear a scarf," he mumbled, barely looking up at you before he shifted to suck on the area next to the mark he'd just made, his intentions with you very clear. In seconds, every roll of his hips against yours, coupled with the way he would bruise at your skin and leave visible evidence of your activities, had you throwing your head back with a moan.

"Mmf—fuck, Xavi," you gripped his body tightly against yours, feeling the way his cock would stretch your walls so perfectly.

"Mh? 'S it good?"

He angled his thrust right against the spongey spot in your walls, and you gasped, feeling the way he would smile against your neck.

It was clear affirmation for him, if your moans of his name didn't already give him enough of it—and despite the fact that you had already cum once, he was adamant on getting you to that high once more.

"Feels good for me, too," he groaned as his pace began to pick up, the faint sounds of skin slapping reaching your ears. Each stroke of his length moved with purpose, hitting that same spot over and over and over, your mouth falling open in whimpers and moans of his name.

"Ah— X- Xavier!" You bucked your hips to match his pace, his grip on you getting tighter, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Your eyes met, and you keened at the way his hair fell over his face, his eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "...You're so beautiful, angel," he breathed, nearly panting, his thrusts becoming quicker and more erratic.

And you could have thrown the words back at him, were you not so lost in your pleasure as you clenched around his cock, gripping his hand tightly in yours.

"C-close— Xavi—!"

You began panting, your vision hazy, as he rut his hips into yours.

"Mhm— almost there— angel— fuck—"

One final thrust had him collapsing onto your body, pulling your own release out of you as he spilled inside, his cock twitching within your walls as he came.

"Xavier..." you whined, reaching to wrap your arms around him, almost cradling him as he groaned into your skin. "Xavier, I..."

He hushed you with a sloppy kiss, and you could feel the way a significant amount of energy had seeped from his body as he gave you a tiny little smile.

"I love you too, angel," he mumbled, before he was sliding down your body once more, your eyes widening when he settled between your thighs yet again.

"H-huh? What are you—ah—!"

You shuddered and gasped at the contact of his tongue back on your folds, still sensitive as you pushed his cum out of you. But yet his eyes remained on yours, and he stuck out his tongue out to continue lapping at the mess he'd made in your cunt.

"Xavier!" you cried. "P-please, no more...!"

He shook his head slightly. "Shh, angel. Don't worry, relax. Just let me clean you up," he mumbled, taking a dollop of your fluids into his mouth, and then swallowing as you watched, your face flushing red.

There was a small, almost cheeky smile lifting the corners of his mouth when he raised his head slightly.

"It's better than candy."

⁺₊ / an: took a break from requests to get this up before we all get "unique aftertaste", bc this was mildly inspired by the trailer! <3 xavi with food play has been on my mind a lot, if it wasn't obvious yet...

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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munsonslove · 2 years

Text

Open Drawers

(18+ only)

summary: You forget to close the drawer to your nightstand and your best friend accidentally finds your vibrator.

wordcount: 4.3k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, slight softdom!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, use of sex toys, praise kink (good girl), very slight degradation (he calls you a slut once), pet names (sweetheart, princess), spit used as lubricant, edging, overstim, no use of y/n

a/n: i teased this fic a while ago, sorry it took me a bit to actually post it but i hope you like it anyway!! requests are open and much appreciated, if i know someones actively waiting for me to write something for them i’ll be more likely to not spend a whole ass month on it lmao

It’s been weeks of torture. Ever since Eddie found out about your ‘little secret’ he’s refused to let it go, bringing it up as often as he can just to humiliate you further. It was cruel behavior, especially from the man you consider your best friend. Though you can’t be too surprised, considering he’d always had an affection for teasing you. In the past it had always been rather playful and innocent- maybe just ever so slightly suggestive- but you were generally able to ignore his flirtatious comments and retain your close relationship (no matter how much they made your pining heart flutter). It had been almost a month since everything changed.

Nobody was home when you returned from your shift, and inspecting the refrigerator revealed a note left to you from your roommates stating that they would be gone for the rest of the night. The news was passed along through phone call to your best friend before you even changed out of your work clothes, and within the hour Eddie had arrived at your door with a six-pack of beer and a relaxed grin. He entered without knocking (having been given a spare key from the day you moved in) and found you sprawled out on the couch, movie just starting with a large bowl of popcorn already made. You don’t even bother sparing him a glance up as he kisses the crown of your head before plopping down directly on top of you.

You try and fail to kick him off. Admittedly you may have been able to muster more strength for the task if you hadn’t been laughing at his typical antics. Failure becomes even more set in stone when his hands find their way to your sides and you dramatically call out “uncle, uncle!” in hopes that he will mercifully cease his relentless tickling. Thankfully, he does seem to be feeling benevolent this evening and climbs off, allowing you to sit up as he takes his place next to you. After ripping a can from its plastic rings, you pop open the tab and take a sip while Eddie grabs fistfulls of popcorn and shoves them into his mouth with a total lack of manners. You conclude that something is definitely wrong with you for finding this somehow endearing, and you gaze at him longingly until he turns to you with a mock-disgruntled eye roll.

“John Hughes?”, he complains, mouth still half full, “Can’t we watch something else?”

You smirk at his predictability. “I knew we wouldn’t make it past the opening scene,” you respond while tsk-ing at him and shaking your head. “I rented a couple of cheesy looking b-movies just yesterday. You know, slasher flicks that for sure spent all their budget on fake blood?”

He smiles big and jumps up off of the sofa. “Aw, my favorite! You do love me!” he exclaims with sarcastic sentiment, “You remember to stash the tapes somewhere your thief roommates couldn’t find?”

“First of all, stop calling my friends thieves. That was one time,” you say while slapping lightly at his leg from your lowered position, “And second, yeah. They’re next to my bed.”

He nods and heads to your bedroom, not wasting time to ask permission seeing as after so many years you both had developed a ‘me casa es su casa’ type of unspoken agreement. After a few more sips of your beer and picking at a partially popped kernel, you notice that Eddie is taking an unusual amount of time retrieving the tapes. You were sure that you had left them on your nightstand, you even remember seeing them while in bed this morning as you were reaching over to-

Oh. Fuck.

The can drops from your hand and falls to the floor, spilling light amber liquid onto the hardwood. Rushing into your room, you see Eddie standing in front of the drawer you had forgone closing while leaving earlier, looking down into it with a clear view of your 18th birthday present to yourself. He whips around, jaw dropped in shock. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as he stares you down, and you realize that you have no idea what he’s thinking about. Probably all the new ammunition he now has to use against you during one of your future banter sessions.

You run forward, shoving him sideways onto the bed and slamming the drawer shut. He lands with a huff- his back on the mattress- before propping himself up onto his elbows, still looking at you with that confusing expression. His silence so far is honestly more nerve wracking than him ruthlessly making fun of you would have been.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize frantically. “I completely forgot I left this open, and I didn’t know we’d be hanging out tonight, and when I sent you in here I didn’t even think about it, and I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, and I-”

“Woah, princess,” he cuts off your rambling, using that nickname that he’s been using ever since the two of you met back in school. It usually brought a warmth to your cheeks, but given that you already felt sick to your stomach the sweet moniker was not appreciated. “It’s fine, I promise!”

“Fine?” you cry out, the sound muffled by your palms as your heated face is now buried behind your hands. You turn your body to face away from him, and he pushes back with his arms to sit up the rest of the way, then reaches forward to grip your elbow and spin you back around.

“Yeah, I swear! You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything,” he consoles. “I was just surprised, is all. I just… wouldn’t have expected… you… to have that.” As he speaks the final word, he gestures to the freshly closed drawer containing your magic wand vibrator. The room falls quiet once more as he stares blankly at the offending table, seemingly lost in thought.

You shove his shoulder a little more harshly than you mean to, and he blinks back to consciousness and rubs where you met contact before re-meeting your eyes. “Don’t look at it like that!” you chastise, ignoring the fact that he technically wasn’t looking at ‘it’ like anything, seeing as it was now hidden out of sight. Your head falls into the cover of your hands yet again as you groan out, “Ugh! You probably think I’m some kind of slut now.”

“N-no!” he’s quick to deny, shaking his head. “Of course I don’t think that about you! I mean, come on, give me some credit. It’s the 80s,” he counters, with emphasis on the last word, “guys can be progressive now. I know girls masturbate too!”

“Please don’t say that word,” you reply, your hands still hiding your face but compromising by peeking out through your fingers.

“What?” he questions with a smirk, “Masturbate?”

“You’re completely impossible,” you state, giving in and dropping your arms to your side. You pick up the videos from your messy nightstand and turn on your heel to walk out the door, not even stopping as you shout out “Are you coming or what, Eds?”

Behind you, Eddie takes the opportunity of your back being turned to adjust himself in his pants and prays that he manages to keep it down throughout the duration of movie night.

That was almost an entire month ago. While Eddie took pity on you for the remainder of that night, the very next morning began his onslaught of mockery. Although, perhaps mockery wasn’t quite the right word, because you know all his jokes were meant to be lighthearted and fun. You know if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would stop in a heartbeat, so the real problem you’re facing is that you don’t want him to stop. Every time he shows up unannounced and slyly asks, “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” with that knowing gleam in his eyes, you’re not sure if you want to scold him for his teasing or jump his bones. Him speaking so candidly about something that’s always been so private should be embarrassing- and it is- but it would be dishonest to say the butterflies in your stomach are only there because of your modesty. Truth be told, he was turning you on every time he hinted at the fact that he knows all about your favorite form of self care.

Not only were the teasing comments nonstop, there were also the questions. Eddie was relentlessly curious about the process (which confounded you considering you thought the situation was pretty straightforward) and he never seemed to run out of things he wanted to ask you.

“How long have you had it?”, “How many settings are there?”, “How often do you use it?”, “Do you need it to get off?”, “What do you think about when you use it?” (definitely couldn’t answer that one honestly), and finally, “How exactly do you use it?”

According to him, he wanted to know the ‘right way’ to use one on a girl for future reference. One day, the frustration of constantly having to dodge his incessant questions became too much, and without thinking you blurted out, “If you’re so curious about how to use it, why don’t I just teach you?” Understandably, your outburst shocked the both of you. What shocked you more was when Eddie quickly recovered and excitedly agreed.

That was how you found yourself spread out on your bed with your best friend on his knees in between your thighs. Your most private area is only covered by your hands, and your discarded panties are tucked in Eddie’s back jeans pocket.

“How am I supposed to do this if you’re hiding, princess?” he asks, observing the toy and turning it over in his hands, “Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him, your friend that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on for years. Now you’re in a position with him that you’ve fantasized about so many times, and you don’t know what it means for the future of your relationship. Above you, Eddie fiddles with the two buttons, figuring out the mechanics of what they do. He discovers the bottom button turns it on while the top changes the speed. There are three settings, and after cycling through them all it starts back at the beginning, only turning off by pressing the bottom button once more. When he’s done figuring out how the toy works, he powers it on to the lowest setting and looks at you expectantly, eyes flitting between your hands and face. You turn your head to the side, take one final deep breath and move your arms to your stomach, revealing yourself to him.

The air is cold on your exposed center. Other than your shaky exhaling and the humming of the vibrator, it’s quiet. You realize with embarrassment that Eddie has stopped breathing, and when you steal a glance back at him he’s staring at your bare center with an unreadable expression. You instinctively hide your face in your hands, and your thighs involuntarily twitch to close. Of course, they can’t fully shut with Eddie sitting in between them, but the movement does stir the boy from his trance. He pries your hands away from your face and you’re forced to confront his inspecting of you.

He kisses a wet peck to the tip of your nose like he’s done so many times before, and just like always your entire face scrunches up with a smile. With eyes now closed, you start to feel giddy and you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. You half expect Eddie to start laughing with you, but no sound comes from your friend. Suddenly- and without warning- he presses the vibrator directly to your clit. Your eyes snap open, rolling back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high pitched squeal escapes out of your slack-jawed mouth.

“Such a pretty sound from such a pretty girl,” Eddie says, barely loud enough to hear considering the buzzing raised in volume due to being pushed up against something. It’s almost like he was more absentmindedly commenting to himself rather than purposefully complimenting you.

You’re only capable of responding with moans as your legs fold into your torso and your toes start to curl. It’s still set to the lowest vibration option, but your aforementioned nerves and arousal were making you much more sensitive than you would otherwise be while using the toy alone. Eddie’s empty hand moves to stroke your inner thigh, before inching toward your center slowly. He seems to be asking permission to touch you himself, and the fact that he still thinks to wait for consent while literally sitting in between your legs after taking off your underwear almost has you laughing again. Instead, you simply nod your head. Eddie’s fingers immediately spread your lips further, allowing the head of the vibrator to be able to hit your clit more directly. The buzzing becomes higher in pitch as he goes up one setting, and the sensation becomes too much to handle.

“Sorry,” he whispers when you whine and start to squirm away, “I’ll be nice.”

After positioning yourself back into place, you mumble out, “Sensitive…” as an explanation. Your voice is surprisingly weak.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, though you doubt he actually feels regretful, “I know.”

The sound of clicking reaches your ears as Eddie toggles the toy back to the first setting. His thumb briefly brushes over your clit, causing you to shiver and gasp, and he breathes out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against you once more- this time more gently. The vibrations are more bearable this way, and you feel the pleasure slowly start to rise and rise until you become a moaning puddle beneath the metalhead. Just as you’re crying out his name- a warning that you're about to cum- he pulls away, cruelly laughing at your protesting.

“Eds, what the fuck?” you shout, frustratedly. “I was so close! Why the hell would you-”

“Calm down, princess,” he interrupts. “You know I’ll get you there. I just wanna have some fun along the way.”

And you do know. You trust him more than anyone else- you’d trust him with your life- but you also know that he’s a little shit. “Please, Eds. Please just get to it,” you beg.

He stares at the head of the toy for a moment before lifting it to his face. His tongue parts his lips, swollen and pink from him biting them, and your eyes widen as he slowly licks directly where the silicone was just touching you. He moans, and his eyes roll back into his head. The sight only drives you more wild, and your hips start rocking the bed as you wait for him to continue.

He starts to bite his lips again as he watches you grind against nothing, desperately searching for friction. “Maybe I was wrong before,” he says slowly with a teasing lilt, “maybe you are a slut.” He had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Your entire body raises in temperature. “Eddie…” you whine, surprised by how much his rudeness is affecting you. “Please…”

“So fucking wet, dripping all over your sheets,” he continues distractedly, paying no mind to your pleading as he caressed up and down your slit, collecting your juices. When he pulls away, you notice the lights of your bedroom reflecting off the glistening moisture on his fingers, and you resist the urge to hide again. “Such a pretty pussy. The prettiest. She’s not used to being treated so nicely, huh?”

As usual, his confidence blurs the line between incredibly sexy and incredibly annoying. His words are making your insides flutter, and probably worsening the ‘dripping all over your sheets’ problem. Still, you can’t help but feel your frustration grow. “Please, Eds, make me cum. Please make me cum,” you beg some more as you scoot down the bed. Your thighs no longer have the room to be laying on either side of him. Instead, they are now resting atop his own thighs, with your pelvises almost meeting making contact.

“So desperate for your best friend to make you cum. Are you always this wet, princess?” As he asks this, the vibrator meets your center again. He rubs it back and forth vertically in quick motions, and you groan in relief.

You answer by shaking your head no. It definitely wasn’t always like this. In fact, it was never like this. The toy slid so effortlessly between your puffy lips, massaging your sensitive nub directly and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Aw,” he cooed, “so it’s just for me?”

As embarrassed as you feel, you figure there’s no use in denying it now. “J- just for you.”

That familiar feeling of climax starts to creep up on you once more, and once more you cry out in annoyance when Eddie eases up the pressure before pulling off entirely.

“No!” you sob, “Eddie please, I need it so bad.”

“You’ll cum when I’m ready for you to cum,” he says, though the dominance in his tone is betrayed by the lust in his eyes. “I just want to play with you for a little longer. You’ll be a good girl, right?”

You suspect that he won’t start up again until you agree, so you do so without a second thought. “I’ll be your good girl,” you promise, “I’ll be good.”

He smiles wide at you before spreading your lips apart and leaning down to spit directly in between them, not that you needed the extra lubrication. Feeling his saliva make contact sent shockwaves through your body, and your back arched just in time for him to harshly press the vibrator back to your clit and start rubbing it in fast circles. This time, the orgasm doesn’t so much creep up on you as it does jump out in front of you, and you’re about to give in until you hear Eddie’s voice behind the haze.

“Hold it,” he orders. “You said you would be good, so be a good little slut and hold it.”

Your head is already thrown back, and you squeeze your eyes shut in concentration. Every fiber of your being is focused on not cumming, wanting to do as Eddie wishes so you can please him. Noticing your efforts, he lifts the toy off of your aching clit and allows you to catch your breath. With your newfound relief from the strain of resisting climax, you notice that Eddie’s free hand has left your waist, and you look down to a glorious sight.

Eddie’s palming himself through his jeans. The image burns itself into your eyelids, so not even blinking becomes an escape from what you're witnessing your best friend do to himself (not that you’re complaining). You silently observe in awe as he attempts to shove his hand down his pants, and struggles on account of them being too tight. To remedy this, he unzips his jeans and slides them down just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. There’s a wet patch where his head was leaking precum, and a clear imprint of his impressively girthy shaft. Once the pants are out of his way you see his hand disappear inside of his underwear as he wraps it around his member and starts jerking harshly, not fully able to stroke up and down his length given the obstructive clothing.

The pure, unadulterated lust that’s consuming you is overpowering any shyness you previously felt. “Eddie,” you say his name, but he ignores you considering you’ve been a constant stream of “Eddie, Eddie, oh Eddie,” for the past ten minutes. “Eds,” you try again, “you can take it out.”

All movement inside his boxers halts. “Huh?” he exclaims with wide eyes, “A- are you sure? This was supposed to be about you.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm. And you lift up your t-shirt to reveal the white lacy bra underneath as you elaborate, “I want you to finish on me.”

His forehead wrinkles as his eyebrows shoot up in shock. With his wide eyed staring, it almost seems like he can’t believe what you’re saying. Drool pools in his open mouth before he composes himself with a head shake. Wordlessly, he sets the still vibrating toy down on the mattress and lifts your thighs off of him, before sitting up enough to pull down the sides of his boxers. His cock springs up the second his underwear is out of the way, and -without thinking about the consequences- you spit into your palm and reach out to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

The strangled noise that leaves his mouth is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He instinctively bucks his hips, but freezes, waiting for you to make the call. You start stroking him hard and fast, not bothering working up to a quicker speed when you were already so desperate for release and wanted him to cum with you. Eddie can apparently relate to said desperation, and hastily picks up the toy back up. Every muscle inside of you clenched as he started rubbing the tip against your clit in small circles. You strained to prolong this moment, knowing your eventual orgasm would be much more rewarding if you could see his face as he came all over your hand and stomach.

“God, sweetheart,” he groans, “So fucking good. So much better than my hand.”

The mental image of Eddie touching himself has you cursing out loud. “Really?” you ask, the pride getting to your head, making you feel light and floaty.

“You have no idea,” he responds. “Been fucking my fist nonstop since that movie night. Couldn’t help myself. All I could think about was you getting off, moaning my name.” You wonder if he knows just how real his fantasy was.

His free hand gently caresses the lacy undergarment covering your chest, his touch so light you barely register it. The uncertainty in his actions is clear, so in lieu of giving verbal consent you simply take his hand in your own and guide it to be fully on your breast.

“Can I pull this down, princess?” he practically begs, and you answer with a nod. He immediately tugs the breast cups downward, revealing your naked chest. Your soft, unmarked flesh is framed by the bunched up fabric of your shirt that’s been gathered at your clavicle, and the lacy material of your bra being held below by Eddie’s trembling hand. His hips are now moving in time with the rhythm of your strokes, and the rocking is causing your tits to bounce in a way that has his angry red tip spilling precum all over your hand as he attempts to hold off his release. The sight has you imagining what he would taste like, with you on your knees in the back of his van, and that thought has you hurtling toward the finish line at an embarrassing speed.

“Cum for me,” he orders. The second he gives you permission, you feel the damn break. As you're busy crying out in pleasure, you faintly hear Eddie in the background. “Good girl,” he grunts, “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You cum with his name on your lips. The intensity of this orgasm is unfamiliar, and you realize with bitterness that the edging you were forced to endure was truly worth the end result. With your mind elsewhere, your stroking halts and you hear the creaking of your bed as Eddie starts to violently thrust into your fist until he meets you in orgasmic bliss. Warmth falls on your naked torso and you look down to see that he’s angled his cock to be aiming at your stomach, fulfilling your earlier wish of him finishing on you. The sight of him using your hand to milk himself dry combined with the buzzing still pressed hard against your clit has you cumming harder than you ever have before. Your hand falls from Eddie as his high comes to an end, but he does nothing to pull away the toy and offer relief to your achingly sensitive core. Any attempt to wiggle your hips free from his hold seems to go unnoticed by his strength, and you have no choice but to take the unrelenting vibrations. The overstimulation has tears falling down the side of your face as your shoulders raise from the bed, the top of your scalp pushing into the mattress as your head is thrown back. Eventually, you are able to move away, and Eddie turns off the toy and chucks it off the bed before climbing on top of you and finally kissing you on the lips.

With both of you breathing heavily into the other’s open mouth, the kiss isn’t exactly how you always imagined your first kiss with your best friend to go, but it’s perfect nonetheless. Your hands find their way into his wild hair, while his tighten their grip on your waist. His tongue in your mouth just barely has the taste of you on it from him licking your toy earlier, and as his thigh brushes your middle small aftershocks rush through your body. You stay like this for a while, lazily making out and feeling each other’s bodies, until he breaks off of your mouth to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, then back up to the side of your face.

When he reaches just under your ear, his lips part from your heated skin to whisper, “So we’re doing that again, right?”

Grabbing a tuft of his hair, you guide him back to your mouth, and with your lips moving against him you answer, “Definitely,” before deepening the kiss. You’re still unsure of what this exactly means for your friendship, but that can be talked about another time.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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omitea · 28 days

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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 . . .ᐟ — 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐

☆ how long can the jjk! men make out for? pt. 2 | pt. 1.

. ft. higuruma, choso & toji.

. content. f! reader, somewhat fluffy in higuruma’s, sloppy make out, grinding, thigh biting, thigh kissing, hickeys. tagged as smut but its overall highly suggestive !

. note. dont like this but anyways goodnight…

☆— 𝐇. 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀

╰┈➤ higuruma likes to take his time with you. kissing the spots on your skin that deserve his undivided attention too.

he kisses you softly, with such gentleness; feeling like a feather ghosting over your plump lips. its sweet, tasting like the chamomile tea he just took a sip off before one kiss turned into more.

he soon moves to your jaw, placing wet kisses on the skin before moving down to your thighs. one of his favorite parts. a large hand takes hold of your knee, parting it just for him. the grip he has loosens once he bends down to kiss the inside of your thighs. he looks up through hooded eyes at the sharp breath you take— making you wanna close your legs in anticipation.

soft kisses turn into tiny nibbles before he sinks his teeth in your flesh. sucking and sweeping his tongue flatly against the red marks he leaves behind. it feels so good— the feeling of pleasure overpowering the slight pain that throbs in your skin. a small whimper escapes your bitten lips once he repeats the same action.

“hmm? think you can take a few more, love?” he will make sure to reward you afterwards.

☆— 𝐊. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

╰┈➤ choso follows your lead, letting you kiss him how you desire. ears picking up the sounds that escape from his now sore throat.

the more you you touch him, the more he feels the familiar feeling brewing in his abdomen. he can’t focus with the way you deeply kiss him— teeth almost clashing in desperation of wanting more.

his hands start roaming, in search of something to touch, anything. so, he starts groping your breasts, thumbs tracing circles over your nipples that are peaking through your shirt. he finds it unfair how you’re handling him while sitting besides him.

body faced his way as your fingers hover above his happy trail and the other hand at the back of his neck. he feels pathetic. almost pleading for you to finally touch him. to pay attention to the already throbbing and leaking mess that’s making him breathe faster and faster.

your mouth latches on the pale skin of his neck, chuckling softly as the dark red blush covers it almost entirely. its amusing how he gets so whiny when not even touched yet. you didn’t expect a semi loud moan from him when you sucked a little too hard. but he didn’t mind, brain turning into mush as his thighs started to shake. he swears he could feel his heart pumping in his ears.

“please,” he managed to croak out— voice cracking slightly,“wanna feel good.” and that was the only thing you needed to hear before your clothes were gone.

☆— 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

╰┈➤ toji loves to shove his tongue down your mouth every chance he gets. the way you’re left wanting more is what makes it all the more fun.

he loves the feeling of your spit covered lips gliding against his. swallowing your soft moans while he continues to grind his bulge against your panties. his tongue enters your mouth with ease— a deep groan escaping his throat the moment the warm muscle starts exploring. a dribble of mixed saliva forming at the corner of your mouths, but neither of you seem bothered to wipe it away

it’s always messy with him. whether its saliva or a messy face due to exploring the other part of you, he absolutely loves it. the view of your hazy expression makes him wanna rip the thin top you have on. already looking fucked dumb by being kissed as if you were the last thing to be devoured.

but he will have a little fun with you for now. he was too busy having his tongue down your throat to notice wetness soaking his pants. one thick finger pressing softly, making you hiss out of surprise. and oh you hated how attractive it was to feel him grin into the kiss.

“guess ya’ want a different kind of mess. eh, doll?” he started while tugging on the fabric of his sweats. “don’t worry, ya’ will get it.”

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axellovesalastor · 3 months

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First time posting smut so hope it goes well 🥲

Alastor Brat Taming

Tags/warnings: Alastor x reader, gender neutral reader, Afab reader, 18+, smut, SLIGHT somnophilia, some bdsm, dry humping

Slightly proofread sorry for any mistakes

Feel free to leave suggestions, comment for part 2!!

After a long day, you found yourself in Alastor’s bed, your body pressed into him and his arm wrapped around you, spooning you. He was softly snoring but you didn’t mind it at all, in fact you found it quite cute. Feeling safe in his embrace, you scooted back to feel his warm body against yours even more. But, you had moved back a little too much and now your ass was pressed in between his hips.

Even with him being soft, you could still tell exactly what you were pressing up against. Feeling playful, you pressed yourself against him a little harder. “What are you doing?” His voice tired, and slightly croaky. His voice was enough to drive you mad.

It seemed like he was still half asleep, so he moved back a little bit, removing his hips from you. You protested, and pressed yourself up against him again, this time slightly harder, enough for him to not be able to ignore. This time you could feel him better than before. In response, he removed his arm from over you, moving his hand on your lower back and pushed you away, then bringing his hand under your jaw, turning your head to face him. He moved closer, almost pressing his face into your neck, locking eyes with you. You could feel his breath ghosting against your neck, almost sending you over the edge. “If you do that again, trust me, I will fuck you until all you can remember is my name.” Biting your lip, you decided that is exactly what you wanted, and did it again. “You promise?”

Within a second, he had swiftly flipped you onto your stomach, and was sitting on your ass. He pinned your arms above your head, holding your wrists tight enough to almost think you’d made him mad. “I do not like to be bothered while I’m sleeping. Nor do I like to be teased. Very rude.” Still feeling brave, you retorted a muffled remark into the pillow, “yeah I’m sure you don’t like to be teased, you got rock hard and still are now.” He removed one hand from your wrists, gathering both of them in other. He pushed your head down more into the pillow. “If you’d like to keep breathing, I’d suggest shutting that bratty mouth of yours.” Starting to feel slightly lightheaded, you muffled out a barely intelligible “fine”, and he removed his hand from the back of your head.

Still holding your hands above your head, he took the other hand, and with a sharp claw, dragged a finger along your back, ripping your shirt in two. Slightly disappointed, you whined softly. “Aww, come on Al. I liked that shirt.” He laughed a little and took both hands and started rubbing your sides. “You should’ve thought about that before pissing me off, dear. Keep your hands up there. If you want me to fuck you so bad we are doing it my way.”

Hearing him being so demanding made you melt. You wanted to be witty so bad, catch him off guard with a clever quip, but your body was ready to submit to him fully. “Not so mouthy now, are we?” He started to get up from off of you, and almost embarrassingly quickly, you whined out, “where are you going?” Knowing how badly you wanted him filled him with a primal urge. “I just want to get a better look.” He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your thighs, pulling you up and adjusting you to be bent over in front of him. You weren’t wearing pants, so now it was very easy for him to see the wet spot he’d made come out of you. Seeing this made his cock twitch inside his pants, and he let out a soft, breathy groan.

He placed his thumb on your heat, and with a painfully slow stroke, he dragged his finger down your slit, gathering your juices on it and making an outline of your cunt through your underwear. When he reached your clit, you whimpered desperately. That made him hard enough to almost convince himself he’d rip through his pants. He pushed down on your clit, and your sweet noises filled his ears again. His breathing grew louder, and you swore it sounded slightly shaky, too. He pushed down once more, he was using you as his toy and wanted to see how much you could take before you screamed for him to just devour you already.

“Please just fuck me, I can’t take it anymore” he’d swore he’d never heard anything sexier, and with that, you heard him unzip his pants and he grabbed your hips and pulled you toward him, his cock now daring to push inside you, the only thing stopping it being both of your underwear. “I’m trying to keep my composure, but you are making it very difficult.”

He moved his hips in slight, controlled circles, and at this point, you were already losing your sanity, and you were sure he was too. You tried to keep it in, but all you could do was whimper and whine. “Alastor, please, I-I can’t- I’m gonna-“ His body shuddered and his cock was twitching on you. His breathing was becoming unsteady and he was grunting in between breaths. “You’re… you’re soaking on me. How disgusting….” His nails dug into your sides, almost drawing blood. He threw his head back and placed one hand on his sweaty forehead, moving his hair back, continuing to grunt into the air.

He started to hump you harder, pushing you as close to him as possible. You’d never seen him act so animalistic, he was now whining and whimpering along with you. “Fffuck, I-I can’t take it anymore” his eyes were rolling into the back of his head, his mouth now covered by his hand to try to not be so loud, his words now muffled. “Pound me before I lose my mind”, you yelped.

He removed his hand from his mouth and placed it on yours, already knowing you’d be screaming the second he entered you. Without wasting another second, he ripped a hole in your underwear and one in his, and with one sharp thrust, he was all the way in you. He fucked you at a brutal pace, and he was either cursing or moaning under his breath with each thrust into your wetness. The familiar feeling pooled down in your stomach, and with only one more thrust, the rubber band snapped. You were screaming for him to fuck you faster under your breath, knowing it probably wasn’t even possible.

It had already been a minute and it was clear he had no intention of slowing down, even with sweat dripping all the way down both of your bodies. He laughed a little, with nothing but lust in his voice. “Brazen brats get fucked ruthlessly into the mattress. Be sure to remember that next time you act up again.” His voice sent you over the edge again and you clenched down hard around his dick, both of you letting out a moan. His thighs were slapping against your ass so hard you were bound to be left with bruises. “I had a goal…” you moaned in between your sentence. “…and I knew how to achieve it,” you said into his hand.

He struck your already sore ass, and you yelped out in pain. He did it again, this time a little harder, earning another yelp followed by a soft sob from you. All the while, he was still fucking you at the same pace. You were already exhausted, you had cum multiple times and now he was about to break you. “Beg for me to stop.” He slapped the tender spot again. “Please stop!” You were a whining, sweaty, crying mess. “And why do you want me to stop?” He spanked you again, and you bit down on his fingers. “Fffffuck, because it hurts…. So bad.” You were barely able to catch your breath at this point. He laughed and put his hand in your hair, pulling your head backwards.

“Now, beg for me to cum in you.” His breathing and grunting were now completely out of his control. “It sounds like you’re going to even if I don’t.” He slowed down a little and you felt him start to slide out, the feeling of being full of him now leaving. “I’m sorry! Please don’t stop, cum in me Alastor, please… cum in me… over and over again. Fill me.” Like he had done before, he promptly thrusted inside of you again, and picked up at the same pace he once was. Your hips were now synchronized with his movements, driving him even more insane.

Somehow, he went even faster, and with each thrust, his whimpers and groaning strung out longer each time, and he was clearly about to break himself. Purposely, you clenched around him, and immediately after you felt his warm cum coating your insides and some even spilling out of you. Both of you, completely overwhelmed and in complete ecstasy, didn’t even care anymore and let out noises neither of you even knew were humanly possible.

He finally removed himself from you, and you were slightly less upset at the feeling of being empty again because his cum had filled your entire insides. He sighed heavily, and took a look at the mess both of you had made. “I will be more than happy to fulfill your request of cumming inside of you multiple times,” he took a long exhale before continuing. “…but you may have to allow me a second to recover.” You turned around and crawled over to him, the sight of that alone starting to make him hard again. You wrapped your arms around his small waist and pulled him closer to you, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, me too.” You both laughed.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #smut #18+ only #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor smut #alastor brat taming #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon

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slut4thebroken · 2 months

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Home Improvements

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader

Summary | Emmett does yard work while you’re outside tanning and you (both) get a little needy.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, humiliation, exhibitionism, a lil degradation, breeding, slight age gap, they’re so cute it kinda makes me sick lol.

Words | 1.8 k

Notes | I’ve been wanting to write some consensual Emmett stuff for a while so thank you to the anon who sent an ask to @kiss-me-cill-me who ended up tagging me🤭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

More of these two

(Ignore the fact that idk how lawn mowers work lmaooo)

You were laying down on a lawn chair in your favorite bikini, sunglasses on and book in hand, but you weren’t reading anymore. You were completely focused on Emmett. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open and his already short sleeves were rolled up a little, showing even more of his muscles and tattoo in a way that made your mouth water.

When you noticed he was standing still, you forced yourself to pay attention and realized he was looking at you. “What?” You called out. The engine of the lawn mower was still on, but it was quieter now that he wasn’t moving it.

“I asked if it’s too loud.” Your heart fluttered a little— he’s always so considerate.

“No it’s okay. Thank you for checking though.” You were out here first so of course he wanted to make sure he wasn’t disturbing your tanning/reading time.

You continued watching him. Occasionally he’d stop and remove his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he was getting through it pretty quickly, much to your displeasure.

“Hey, Emmett?” You yelled, hoping he heard you with how far he was. He paused, turning toward you, and when you waved him over, he obeyed instantly.

“Yeah?”

“Aren't you kind of hot? It’s like 80 degrees out today.” You said casually, confusing him.

“A little, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Maybe you should take your shirt off. Feeling the breeze really helps.” You suggested, glancing down at your mostly nude body to show that you weren’t completely bullshitting that excuse. He chuckled quietly and shook his head a little, looking away from you with a small smile.

“Sure, baby.” You knew that he knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You got what you wanted and that’s all that matters. He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then tossed it onto the second lawn chair. Since he already knew, you decided to close your book and put it on the small table in between both chairs.

“You know, it also might help if you work a little slower too. Going fast means using more effort, and that means getting hotter quicker.” You knew it was grasping at straws and completely cheesy, but he scoffed a laugh and played along.

“Good point. Any other suggestions?”

“None that don’t involve public indecency.” You said teasingly and he chuckled again before walking back over to the lawn mower to continue. You could see now that his torso was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, only getting you more worked up.

There was something so incredibly hot about watching your husband do completely mundane, domestic tasks like mowing the lawn and barbecuing. He also had a really bad habit of doing home self improvements… so at any given time, there was at least one part of the house that was unfinished. The plus side to his love of home diy’s was that he’d build you things for the house, like extra storage in a weird space where nothing could really fit, or a new table after you accidentally spilled paint all over it and couldn’t get it off.

You frowned when he turned the lawn mower off and started walking over to you. “It looks amazing, honey.” You smiled, shamelessly eyeing his body as he sat down on the chair next to yours. You offered him your glass of ice water which he took eagerly, gulping down more than half of it in one go. “You know, I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.” Honestly, it was more a reward for you being able to sit here for half an hour without jumping his bones.

“You hate when I’m all sweaty.” You could tell that he wanted whatever you were offering though.

“Yeah… but that just gives us an excuse to have round two in the shower.” You smirked and his lips curled up into a small smile.

“Come here.” He said as he laid back in the lawn chair, letting you climb onto his lap. His hands settled on your hips as you took off your glasses and his hat before finally kissing him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, letting you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. When he pulled back, you whined quietly. “I don’t think I can do yard work while you’re tanning anymore. I’ve been hard since I walked out here.” You choked out a laugh, then started grinding on his bulge, making his breath catch in his throat.

“I agree. I’ve been wet since you started mowing.” You leaned down to kiss him again, still grinding your hips, and his hands dragged up your sides to cup your breasts, making you moan quietly. When he pulled your bikini down to rest below them, you let out a gasp that turned into a mewl when he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck- Emmett…” You said through a breath, tightening your grip on his hair. “People might see.” Even though you were in the backyard that had a wood fence all the way around the perimeter, there was still a chance.

“Thought you said I deserve a reward.” He grumbled, moving to your other nipple to suck and nip at it teasingly. “And I want to fuck my wife on my own property. I don’t give a shit if someone sees.” You knew that wasn’t true. You’d have to stop him from commiting a felony if someone accidentally saw your body because of how jealous and possessive he could be.

“I’m gonna be pissed if we get in trouble with the HOA.” A few years ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d be married, living in a suburban house, worried about the HOA. Despite your words, you started snaking your hands down his chest and stomach to his belt. You managed to unbuckle it, even with how close your bodies were, then you opened his pants and took out his cock, stroking him to full hardness.

“Fuck.” He hissed, kissing up your chest to your neck, then sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a mark. “Need you, doll.” He whispered, hips bucking up toward your hand, desperately seeking out your tight, warm cunt. Since you were just as desperate, you quickly pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and sunk down on his cock, making both of you moan. You sat down on him completely, then paused, needing to let yourself adjust.

When his hands snaked around to your back and tugged on the string of your bikini, you gasped and tried to keep the fabric from moving away— at least with it below your breasts, you could quickly cover yourself if needed. Emmett didn’t seem to care about that though as he pulled it over your head then threw it somewhere to the side.

“Fuck..” You said through a breath. The risk was making you infinitely needier and as you continued to get more turned on, you started to care less about someone possibly seeing.

“Come on, baby. Give me my reward.” He gruffed. As if your body was completely under his command, you started rocking your hips, warming yourself up a little. You cried out when he suddenly slapped your ass. “You know what I want.” His voice was much harsher now, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request. So you started bouncing up and down on his lap, forcing moans out of both of you. “That’s it… Be a good little wife and use that greedy cunt to please my cock.” He groaned, slapping your ass again before moving his hands up to grope your tits. You were starting to sweat now as you panted, quickly heating up from the exertion.

Getting bolder, he suddenly reached for the strings on both hips, then quickly pulled to untie them. “Emmett..” You warned— being completely nude was way too risky.

“We can move this to the front yard if you’d prefer.” He threatened, making you falter. When you gave up on trying to stop him, he smirked and removed the fabric, leaving you fully bare. “What would people say, honey?” He murmured mockingly. “If they knew that you liked riding me in public, in broad daylight, without wearing any clothes.”

“Emmett…” You whined, his words making you needier.

“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek. “You can’t help being a whore, but it’s okay because you’re my whore. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” You mewled, desperately moving your hips, chasing your release.

“Say it.” His hands settled on your hips and he held you still, then started bucking up into you.

“I’m your whore, Emmett.” You whined with a blush. He moved one hand to smack your ass as a warning, then immediately put it back on your hip. “I’m your whore!” You cried out, much louder this time. “Fuck— please make me come.”

“Wait just a little longer, doll, I’m almost there.” He said breathily, tightening his grip on your hips almost painfully and bucking up into you so fast, you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your breasts were moving embarrassingly with how hard he was pounding you, only furthering your humiliation… which only brought you closer to the edge.

“Emmett.. please, I can’t hold it.” You whimpered, clinging to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

“Go ahead, sweet girl…” He said through a breath. “Come for me.” You reached down to rub your clit and when your orgasm crashed over you, Emmett quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth, muffling what would’ve been a mix of a scream and a moan. You stared down at him with furrowed brows as your body trembled with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you.

He cursed under his breath when your orgasm made your cunt squeeze his cock almost too tight, sending him over the edge as well. You only had to endure the overstimulation for a few seconds while he continued bucking up into you, riding it out. His grunts and breathy moans were creating a new pool of arousal in your stomach, but he was done before he could get you worked up all over again.

When he relaxed his grip, you accidentally sunk down all the way, making you both wince from the sensitivity. You were still panting and Emmett was in a similar state, but he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a kiss anyway. It was short, but still deep and passionate, leaving you even more breathless.

“I’m going to look into building higher walls for the fence so you can start tanning naked.” His lips were curled up into a poorly concealed smirk. “Just so you don’t get tan lines, obviously...” He said coyly, making you laugh.

I think I want to write more for them cause I really like their dynamic so send me some ideas <3

#emmett smut #emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader smut #emmett x reader #cillian murphy #Emmett x wife!reader

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Text

Lost and Found - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 1) | Part 2

WC: 4.3K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Just your luck, you get dress coded on your first day at Hawkins High. You're already ridiculed for being the senior transfer, and now on top of that, the only shirt that covers you up in the lost and found belongs to the school freak.

Contents/Warnings: reader wears eddie's shirt, reader gets bullied, lots of teasing, slight innuendos/suggestive material

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You must have set a new school record: You’ve only been attending Hawkins High for three hours, and you’ve already been dress coded. Apparently your shirt is too low-cut, even though it barely dips below your collarbones, and you were ordered to look through the lost-and-found for a suitable cover-up.

It could be worse, you muse, as you sort through the box of slightly aromatic, ratty, dusty clothes, they could have put it on your school record. Though, as a senior transferring to the school for one last year, you don’t care what’s on your record. They could hate you, for all you care, as long as you graduate. It’s not like you’ll ever have to deal with them again.

Unfortunately, it looks like everything in the box before you is either three sizes too big, or three sizes too small. The beaded tank top that you pull out near the bottom is even worse than your shirt, and you guarantee it wouldn’t go over well with faculty. There’s a winter coat in the mix, but summer still clogs the air with sticky heat, and you refuse to cover yourself up with that. After sorting through the bin for almost five minutes, the only thing even remotely suitable for you is a baseball tee that looks like it’s homemade.

It’s a white shirt with black sleeves, and a ring around the neck. It’s certainly interesting. There’s a red devil on the front, horns protruding eerily from its head, and weapons frame its face, ready for battle. Then two multifaceted dice are poised below the text, numbers etched into their faces.

The bold black text over the picture reads ‘HELLFIRE CLUB,’ and it stinks of what you’re suspicious is weed. You’re not sure what the Hellfire Club is, you presume it’s an underground band of some sort, but you don’t have time to figure it out. There’s a red stain on the chest, what you presume (and pray) is spaghetti sauce, but it’s your best bet in the lost and found bin, so you slip it on and hope that they’ll let you go without any further incident.

Thankfully it’s lunchtime, so when you slip out of the office mostly unnoticed, the shirt resting rather comfortably over your frame, you make a beeline for the cafeteria. You get stares, odd murmurs thrown about you as you walk down the line, people from packed tables squinting oddly at your shirt. You can’t really blame them, either, because you’d squint at it too if you’d seen it on someone else. You’re already silently resigning yourself to being The New Kid when you sit down on the ground, the tables either full or sending you funny glances when you try to sit down with them.

The first thing you do is pull out a walkman and headphones. They slip comfortably over your ears, shielding you from the disheartening whispers thrown around about you. You’re absolutely certain that this is going to damage your reputation, on Day One no less, but what are you supposed to do? Your only option is this stupid shirt: damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.

You bury yourself in your lunch, though it’s not appealing. Coleslaw oozes messily around your plate, and you try pushing your fries out of the way, but it’s too late. They’re soaked, and you’ve lost your appetite. You push the tray away from you, and it sits there sadly on the ground. You dig a book out from your backpack, letting your eyes skim over the words instead of the people around you.

“Eddie,” Dustin is out of breath when he sits down, too excited to inform his friend of the strange thing he’d managed to witness in the lunch line to think about breathing, “Eddie, the new kid’s wearing a Hellfire shirt!”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he munches thoughtfully on a pretzel, “You’re out of your mind, Henderson.”

“No! No,” He shakes his head, “Honest! Look,” He points to you, the text over the devil on your shirt clear as day over your book, “I saw ‘em on my way back from class! They just walked in with it.” He lets out a breathy laugh, “Do you think it’s catching on? Like, you think there’s more than just us? Do you think there’s members all around the world?!”

“Dumbass,” Jeff swats at the back of Dustin’s head, “How could it be catching on, no one knows about it but us.”

“Maybe they-“ Dustin is eager to elaborate on his theory, prepared to make up some hair-brained theory as to how the transfer student could have heard about Hellfire outside of Hawkins, but Eddie’s eyes narrow as he stares at you, and he waves a hand at Dustin, effectively silencing the boy.

“There’s a stain there. On the left.” He recognizes the messy splotch, his face twisting in indignance, “That’s my shirt!”

“I thought you lost that one,” Mike frowns, his hair hanging over his face, “How’d she get it?”

“I dunno,” Eddie stands abruptly, tossing his bag of trail mix to the table and tugging his jacket determinedly around his shoulders, “But I’m gonna find out.”

In only ten minutes, you’re already getting used to the stares. They dishearten you every time, something inside of you sinking whenever someone points or peers at you. But apparently you’re just going to have to accept your spot in the school, your back forever pressed against the cafeteria wall as your tray rests on the floor. It’s only for one year, you reason, you can tough it out.

Loneliness seeps through the cold linoleum flooring, slightly sticky from god knows what, and raises goosebumps over your legs. You’re absolutely certain it would be more comfortable to sit out in the woods behind the school, and you’re only two seconds away from moving when a pair of shoes enters your vision, right in front of your crossed legs.

"Pray tell," The boy who crouches in front of you has dark eyes, his white sneakers creasing as he bounces on his thighs, "What are you doing in my shirt?"

You tug your headphones off of your ears as you stare up at him blankly, your eyes drifting over the pins adorning his jacket. You recognize a few bands, a curse word or two, but then he dips his head to meet your eyes, his question still in the air.

"Oh, I-" You flounder, tugging at the hem of the shirt nervously, "I'm really sorry. Is this yours? I didn't know."

"It's mine," He reaches up to flick the stain on the front, "That was from an unfortunate driving-while-eating incident."

You giggle at the thought, and his eyes snap back to yours, his grin ever-growing as you speak, "It was in the lost and found. They dress coded me," You recall exasperatedly, "It was the only thing I could find."

"Dress coded?" He cocks his head to the side, "Shit, what are you wearing underneath?"

The question has your eyes widening, your cheeks flaming, and your throat going dry. It’s not blatantly sexual, hell, you’re just wearing a low-cut top, but the boy in front of you is stunning, and the grin that he’s wearing is definitely suggestive.

“Um-” You start, raising the hem of his shirt slightly to reveal the pattern of your top, “It’s just-”

“I’m teasing,” He clarifies, pushing against your shoulder with one hand in a teasing gesture, “Don’t worry about it.” He plops down onto the floor in front of you, squinting distastefully at your soggy fries, “Normally I’d try to steal a few, but those look like they’d land me in the hospital.”

“I think I’ll have to start bringing lunch from home,” You sigh resignedly, “Unless the food here gets any better than this?”

“Not that I know of,” He shakes his head, brown frizzy curls bouncing around his face airily as he does so, “I bring my own food too.”

You hum in acknowledgement, only then realizing you don’t know his name.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” You pipe up, holding out your hand for a shake. He stops perusing your discarded lunch and grins amusedly at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the expression.

“Eddie.” He offers, shaking your hand once, firmly, “You’re new, right?”

“Yeah,” You nod, glancing around at the few scattered pairs of eyes on you now that Eddie is sitting with you, “It’s a little harder than I thought it’d be.”

“That shirt probably isn't helping.” Eddie grimaces sympathetically, “We’re not exactly the kings of the school.

“We?” Your brows furrow in confusion.

“The Hellfire Club…?” He raises his eyebrows, tugging apart the chest of his jacket to reveal an identical shirt to yours, though sans-stain, “We sit over there.”

Your lips part slightly at the shock of seeing another shirt like the one you’re wearing, and you glance dazedly over to where he’s pointing. Five sets of eyes try appearing casual at your attention, two turning to each other and whispering as the other three bury themselves in a magazine one is holding.

“I didn’t realize it was a thing,” You admit, the corners of your lips curving up softly, “I figured it was, like, a band or something.”

“Well I’m in a band!” Eddie supplies eagerly, his face brightening. But he dims down after to appear more nonchalant, clearing his throat and schooling his face into a more neutral expression, “We’re a DnD party, though, Hellfire.”

“Oh, I’ve never played.” You admit sheepishly, “But it seems really cool!”

“Cool…?” Eddie quirks a brow at you, and the way that he’s staring at you has you questioning whether you’ve grown a third head, “DnD, like, Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Yeah,” You nod vehemently, “A lot of my friends back home played, but I never really got into it. It seemed really complicated.”

“It kind of is,” A smile grows over Eddie’s face, albeit a perplexed one, “But once you get the hang of it it’s fun. I.. I won’t lie, ‘cool’ is just about the last word I expected you to call our hobby.”

“I’ve sat in on a few sessions,” You recall, remembering the raucous shouts and heated battles that your friends got up to, “I usually just read fantasy novels, it was different watching one play out in real time.”

“Ooh, fantasy novels?” His face scrunches in good-natured disbelief, “You surprise me more and more every time you speak. Y’got any recommendations? I’m always looking for new inspiration for our campaigns.”

You suddenly remember the book in your lap, your pointer finger still lodged between the pages. You hastily hold it out to him, showcasing the cover, “This one’s good. The author’s from my old town,” You smile at the memory of her book signing, “It’s about a warrior prince who has to fight his way through hell, and he befriends a demon. She ends up helping him through,” You offer the book to Eddie with raised brows, “Anything you’d wanna borrow?”

“I don’t wanna steal it from you just yet,” He pokes carefully at your finger between the pages, “But let me know when you finish it, and I’ll be all over that.”

His tone is fascinating to you, an air of constant amusement around him that you’d never seen before. He seems to find interest in everything, and it feels amazing to be listened to by someone who cares so deeply about someone he’s never met before. You nod cheerily at him, some of the weight lifting from your chest at the knowledge that you’ve made a friend.

“Dude,” Dustin peers cautiously at you, his heart still racing from when you’d caught them staring only seconds before, “I think he’s smiling!”

“I can’t see,” Jeff huffs, a frown twisting over his face as he tries eyeing you two over Mike’s head, “You’re in the way, Wheeler.”

“Sor-ry,” Mike grumbles, ducking down, “She already caught us staring once, don’t push your luck.”

“Why is he still down there?” Dustin turns to his friends with an exaggerated furrow in his brows, “Do you think he’s coming back?”

“He’d better,” Gareth mumbles, flicking the tin lunchbox Eddie had left behind, “I’m not getting in trouble if a teacher finds this.”

“Oh, oh my god!” Dustin glances back over his shoulder one last time, seeing Eddie helping you to your feet, “They’re both coming over here!”

“So,” Eddie hums, lifting the edge of your lunch tray and letting it fall to the floor again with a smack, “There’s only, like, ten minutes of lunch left, but if I sit on this shitty floor for any longer,” He raps a knuckle against the linoleum, “I’m gonna be walking funny. Do you wanna come sit with me and my friends?”

This is it. This is your chance, your invitation into friendship. You try to appear casual, try pretending like your heart isn’t beating out of your chest at Eddie’s proposal, and you nod a little too eagerly.

“I’d love to,” You gush softly, “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Of course,” He laughs, the sound breathless and incredulous, “Just know, uh, this is kind of your last chance at having a reputation around here. It’s okay if you say no, I don’t wanna ruin your senior year of high school.”

“Why would you ruin it?” You tilt your head to the side and Eddie thinks you look rather akin to a confused puppy. It makes something stir in his chest, fondness creeping into his tone as he responds.

“Don’t you remember what I said earlier? We’re not very popular,” Eddie sighs lightly, trying to cover up the hint of insecurity that presents itself in his eyes, “We’re sort of the outcasts. I don’t want you to sign your popularity away before it can even get started.”

“I don’t want to be popular.” You decide right then and there, determination in the frown on your face, “Not if they make fun of you.”

You’re expecting a witty quip, already accustomed to the boy’s confident exterior. What surprises you, though, is the way that his mouth shuts, no words coming out of it as he gnaws thoughtfully on his lower lip. He studies you, his eyes boring into your own as his face hardens. You’re certain you’ve said something wrong, you’re worried that now you’ve messed things up, but then he smiles again, much softer this time. The expression is gentle, and shows off his shiny brown doe eyes, “You’re really something, aren’t you?”

“Hm?” You stare at him, equally entranced by his shift in character.

“You..” He starts, shaking his head bewilderedly, “A lot of the people here are raging assholes. Like, raging. But you’re.. You don’t seem like one.”

“I hope I’m not.” You huff out a laugh, “I don’t want to be a raging asshole.”

“Just another thing we have in common.” Eddie stands, breaking the stupor that had befallen you both and holding out his hand to help you off of the ground, “Now, we technically don’t have room at the table for you. But you can take my seat, I’ll stand for a bit.”

“No, no it’s okay!” You pull out of his grasp, eyes wide in fear of being a burden, “I can stand if I need to! I can take one for the team,” You assure him, bending over to pick up your tray and missing the way his eyes dart to your backside, “You just sat on the ground for me.

“Exactly,” He plucks the tray from your hands, dumping the cold, soggy food into a garbage can and leaving it with other used ones, “It’ll give me an opportunity to stretch my legs.” He swings one of his legs out to accentuate his point, the frayed strings of his jeans billowing in the rush of air against them.

“Only if you’re sure,” You let him lead you over to the table he’d pointed at earlier, his friends all watching you cautiously, “I really don’t want to put you out.”

“Nonsense.” He insists in that dramatic fashion of his, something you’re growing ever-fond of. His hands flit to your shoulders before you can even offer a polite wave to anyone sitting at the table, and he maneuvers you to plop down into his empty seat, “What’s mine is yours, Y/N.”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean it to be such an all-encompassing statement, but it makes your cheeks flare anyway. You direct your attention to his friends to stave off your bashfulness, not wanting him to see the way he gets to you after only knowing him for fifteen minutes.

One is smiling brightly at you, curls framing the boy’s face. Another two are sending cautious grins your way, seated opposite each other at the table. Then two others, decidedly older than the bunch, stare at you expressionless. The only thing they seem to have in common are their shirts, one of which you’re still wearing.

“Hello,” You offer lamely, waving sheepishly at them, “Uh, I’m Y/N, I’m new here.”

“And she likes DnD,” Eddie nearly cuts you off in his haste, “‘Thinks it’s ‘cool’.”

His statement draws a chuckle from his friends, and one of the younger-looking ones turns to you.

“I’m Dustin! I saw you earlier,” The curly-haired boy informs you, thankfully cheery in his greetings, “I couldn’t figure out why you were wearing a Hellfire shirt, so I told Eddie.”

“Oh,” You laugh awkwardly, glancing down at the stained shirt over your body, “I got dress-coded.”

“On your first day?” One of the older ones raises an eyebrow, “Tough luck. I’m, uh- Jeff, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” You nod thankfully at him, “Yeah,” You feel Eddie’s hands tighten around your shoulders and you tense slightly, “Teachers here are strict.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie groans from above you, reaching over your shoulder to fasten his lunchbox shut and to grab a pretzel that he’d left behind, “I got caught smoking once and now I’m on some sort of watchlist.”

One of his friends, an older one on your left, snickers heartily at the story. Eddie apparently doesn’t appreciate it, though, because you watch him pelt the boy with a walnut in a matter of seconds.

You laugh incredulously as the boy flinches, and you’re almost worried that he’ll take offense to it. But you can’t tell, because Eddie leans over you, his hair tickling your face as he stares down at you amusedly. You glance up, return a guilty smile, Eddie motions to his bag of snack mix.

“Help yourself,” He offers, picking an almond out of the bag, “I did sort of throw away your lunch, I think it’s only fair you get some of mine.”

“I wasn’t gonna eat that anyways,” Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your soggy fries, “Don’t worry about it, Eddie.”

“Just take some,” He groans, jabbing a pretzel at your lips. It’s sloppy, because he can’t see what he’s doing, and he hits your chin. You giggle incredulously, squeak out a laugh, and take it from him. He pats your head as praise, “You’re too nice, you always decline shit from people.”

“How would you know?” You speak indignantly around your pretzel, “You barely know me!”

“And you’ve already tried weaseling your way out of favors twice,” He raises an eyebrow at you unimpressed, “Take some trail mix.”

You glance around at the others, traces of mirth on their faces. You realize that he must do this often, make a scene. You widen your eyes, plucking another pretzel from the bag, “Is he always this insistent with his snacks?”

“He never shares,” Dustin contradicts you, “‘Swear to god, I asked him for one M&M the other day: absolutely nothing.”

“You little shit,” Eddie’s hands leave your shoulders as he lunges for Dustin, locking the boy into place with an arm around the neck. You know it’s gentle, it’s not really hurting Dustin judging by the laughter spilling from the boy, and a soft smile creeps over your face. Eddie is clearly the heart of the group.

“Well hey,” One of the younger boys turns to you, his hair hanging around his face like a curtain, “If you’re keeping that shirt, you might as well use it. We actually need a sub for tomorrow night, if you want to play.”

“Oh,” You flounder at the request, everyone’s eyes flitting towards you, “Your DnD campaign? I don’t really know how to play.” You admit hesitantly, “I usually just watch.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie soothes you, letting go of Dustin to hover behind your chair again, patting your back, “We can take it slow. We don’t really need to get that much done tomorrow,” He promises, “I’ll help you out.”

“Are you sure? If it’s too much trouble, I can-” You stop dead in your tracks when Eddie raises a brow, nearly glaring at your attempt to brush off another kind gesture.

“... I mean, I’d love to.” You grin placatingly at him, a rush of warmth flooding through your chest at his approving nod.

“Perfect,” His words are punctuated by the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of lunch time, “What class do you have next?”

You dig your schedule out of your backpack as everyone stands, the paper already crumpled slightly, “Uh, O’Donnel?”

“Oh!” Eddie nods understandingly, “I’ve got her first. I’ll walk you, it’s over there.” He points lazily towards the left cafeteria door.

“Thank you,” You smile brightly at him and he returns it with a nod, taking your backpack from you before you could sling it over your shoulder. You look at him fondly, struck with incredulity at the kindness of a near-stranger, but he doesn’t let you prase him anymore, starting for the door.

“Bye,” You wave hurriedly at the few stragglers at your new table, all of them waving back just as kindly, “It was nice meeting you!”

“Nice meeting you, too.” One of them pipes up, a buffalo-print vest draped over his shoulders as his messy brown hair dips slightly into his forehead.

“See you tomorrow?” Dustin asks hopefully, gesturing towards your shirt.

“Yeah,” You nod brightly, “See you tomorrow!”

Eddie tugs you along as soon as you’re done talking, taking long steps across the floor you’d been unlucky enough to sit on for the majority of lunch. Even if it had only been for a few minutes, though, you’re happy to have sat with Eddie and his friends, because they made you feel welcome.

You voice this to him before you step through the doors of Ms/ O’Donnel’s class, lingering by the threshold, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He hums curiously, waiting to send you off to your next period.

“Thank you,” You sound like a broken record but you don’t care, filled with thankfulness for his kind gestures, “Really, I know I’ve said it a lot but I really mean it. If it weren’t for you I’d have sat on that stupid floor all period,” You remember the cold, unforgiving linoleum, “And- and now I get to learn how to play DnD!”

Your exuberance melts Eddie’s heart, not that he wants to admit it, and he feels his grin become permanent over his face. Anytime he looks at you, he’s certain it’ll be there.

“Don’t mention it,” He shuffles his feet, suddenly bashful under your shower of gratitude, “Seriously, I’m glad you’re not on the floor anymore.”

“Me too.” You giggle, taking a step back into the classroom as he starts walking towards his own class, “Oh, and Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He turns back to you with a raised brow.

“The shirt?” You tug it away from your chest and let it fall back again, “When should I give it back?”

“Tell you what,” A smirk crosses his face, sending a spark up your spine as he steps towards you again, “You come by my place tonight, and I’ll teach you the basics of DnD. You can bring that book, and maybe I’ll knock out a few chapters while you’re learning. Then maybe you can show me what’s under there,” Eddie quips, tugging at the shirt’s hem with narrowed eyes, “I’m dying to know what the faculty deemed inappropriate.”

His bold offer has your stomach twisting, and you feel your heart in your throat. Your prolonged silence seems to humble him, and uncertainty flashes through his eyes, “Unless of course, um, I was too forward, and you’re not interested, in which case I’ve probably totally misread this and ruined whatever was going on, and I’m so-”

“Eddie!” His rambling is ridiculously endearing to you, and you grip his hand before he can flee the scene, “I.. I’d like that.”

His shoulders slump in relief and you watch the tension drain from his figure, “Really? Shit, you had me scared there. What’s your address, sweetheart?”

Even though it’s sweeter and less bold than his statement only seconds before, the pet name has your legs weakening. You’re sure Eddie will catch you if you fall, though, he hasn’t known you for an hour and he’s already your savior.

“Here,” You grab a scrap of paper from the side pocket of your backpack, pulling a pencil out alongside it and scribbling your address down, “What time do you wanna meet?”

“I’ll pick you up at six,” Eddie promises, tucking the paper into the pocket of his jacket, “Does pizza sound good?”

“Pizza sounds perfect.” You grin, finally stepping into the classroom and absentmindedly searching for an empty seat, “See you then!”

Eddie stands in the hallway, watching wistfully as you pick out an empty seat in the back. Your book is on the desk in seconds, your nose buried intently in it as the class gets seated. The endearing behavior only warms the pit of Eddie’s stomach more, and he turns before he can ruin the situation by being caught staring. He tucks his head down, stalking bouncily off to his next class with a smile on his face, “See you then, Y/N.”

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feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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