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neopuppy · 4 months

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Angel Baby (M)

pairing. alpha Jaemin x pregnant female omega reader

genre. *gasp* and they were neighbors AU, non-traditional ABO, single & pregnant y/n, fluff, smut, M/F

warnings. profanity, alpha/omega dynamics, ‘pup’ instead of ‘baby’, possible inaccuracies(writer has absolutely never been pregnant), pregnancy aches & cravings, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8000

now playing. angel baby//Troye Sivan

smut warnings. unprotected sex, pregnant sex, lactation, use of ‘mama’ and ‘mommy’, breast fondling, fingering, oral, slick, painful orgasm(for Jaemin), etc

a/n. wanted to title this fic Orgasm Donor sooooooo bad, but tumblr whack these days

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“You know even though this is my first pregnancy, it’s not that bad.” You proudly nod, dipping another blue cheese filled olive into a cup of hazelnut spread. “I haven’t even been having those weird cravings everyones always going on about.”

Jaemin stops working on setting up his old coffee machine, shifting his gaze to watch you pop another olive coated with sweet cream in your mouth before you struggle to open a jar of pickles. “No weird cravings?”

“Nope.” You shrug, smiling triumphantly only to quickly fall into a frown as you squeeze around the jar more without budge.

He hums, twisting around to grab the jar from your hands and open it himself, nodding and smiling as he passes it back to you. You thank him, whispering that you could have opened it before continuing to munch and dunk a pickle into the spread and proceed to pour coconut shavings on it. “That’s a good thing. What about that uh, morning sickness?”

“Haven’t really had that either.” You murmur between bites, lifting your hand to cover your mouth, your other reaching to rub your stomach. “Means I’m going to have a very sweet and calm pup.”

“How’s your back feeling today?” He asks, thinking about how you’d hissed and made a pained face yesterday while trying to pick up a basket of laundry.

“Oh it’s..” putting on a smile, you wave him off. “—It’s fine, the doctor said my last trimester would be the hardest on my body.”

Jaemin turns back around to set the water cartridge in place for the coffee machine. He wants to add that your doctor also recommended staying off your feet, massages since you need to avoid hot water, and while it may be uncomfortable- try to stay off your back while sleeping. You always managed to change the subject whenever he attempted to mention a spa day to pamper yourself, or even offered his own hands to knead your tired feet.

“Offer still stands.” He reminds you, running the machine to clean it out. It’s only fair he sets it up anyway. It’s for him, since he’s been staying at your apartment longer than his own these days. “What about your Gochujang cravings?”

You instantly shy away, hiding your face to your shoulder demurely. The reminder of why and how Jaemin’s become such an integral part of your daily life always makes you feel embarrassed. “The tub I stole from you is nearly empty.”

“I’ll have to get you more next time I go to the store.”

Jaemin, while fond of the memory, also recalls it with embarrassment. It was 3 in the morning when he heard repeated light knocks that quickly escalated to heavier more determined knocks. He stumbled out of bed reaching for a hoodie to throw on and cover up his bare chest, slowly trudging down the hallway from his bedroom to the front door. “Yeah yeah, hold on.”

With half asleep swollen eyes he opened the door to find you frantic, eyes blown wide and your hands clasped together under your stomach smiling at him nervously. “I’m so so so sorry about this.”

He quickly snapped awake upon seeing your panicked expression, standing up straight and rubbing his sleep tired eyes. “It’s fine, seriously. Is it the pup?? Are you okay??”

“No no, pups fine..” you trail off, laughing anxiously. “My grocery order was missing a few items and you see.. I’m eating some apples, a little late night snack..”

Jaemin nods confused, relieved that your water didn’t break early or something. “My delivery person refunded the Gochujang I ordered. I guess they were out at the store.” You explain, feeling silly and terrible at the same time for waking your neighbor over this. You hardly even know him beyond the first run-in you had the day you moved in. “I was just wondering if maybe you have any to spare? If not it’s okay. I’m seriously sorry, I thought about texting you, but I don’t have your number.”

He perks up at the mention of Gochujang, squinting at the idea of needing chili pepper paste for your apples. “I do have some actually. I just went to the market a few days ago. Here, why don’t you come in for a minute while I grab it.”

“Are you sure? I can just be on my way, and bring you back the container tomorrow..”

“No no, it’s fine.” He yawns, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen. “So, apples and Gochujang?”

“It’s sooo good, the hint of spice really pairs well with the crunch.”

“Should you be eating something this spicy, uh, right now?” He questions, wondering if that’s good for a baby, mentally noting to look that up online later.

“Oh, I love a little spice.” You nod, looking him over now under the kitchen light. “Nice sweater..”

Jaemin makes a confused sound, shutting the fridge to look down at himself with a container of Gochujang in hand. “Oh..” he tries to smile when you snort, rubbing his free hand down the large bold black letters reading ‘Orgasm Donor’ on the white hoodie. “It was a joke gift from my friends.. I didn’t uh..”

“Is it true?” You ask coyly, glancing away when he looks at you surprised.

“Is what true?” He retorts, not awake enough to catch the way you grin and shyly bite your thumb nail.

“Are you charitable?”

He’s struck for a minute, blinking slowly in disbelief that the cutest pregnant Omega he’s ever seen is currently standing in his kitchen at 3 in the morning desperate for chili paste to eat with her apples flirting with him? The same Omega he watches waddle through the halls after picking up her mail leaving behind the softest traces of fresh whipped creamy milk? The same one he couldn’t help but notice had no mating mark adorning her long beautiful much too bare neck?

Peering bewildered from the front of his hood back to you more than a few times, he gapes like a fish, lifting up the tub of Gojuchang. “Yeah, anything you need, I’m always an apartment away. I work from home now too so don’t worry about showing up whenever you want, I’ll give you anything you want.” He says too eagerly, stepping forward with a smile. “Like this chili paste.”

What are the chances you show up at his door like a glowing dream, leaving your warm milky scent behind that softly carries him back to his dreams. Dreams full of you, your smile when he passes by, the cute way you struggle to bend over and frown because your belly has just gotten too big.

He could tell after that you needed more help than you were willing to let on, especially by the number of packages showing up at your doorstep varying from small to way too large for you to be handling on your own.

“Hey, remember when I said you can come to me for anything?” He said approaching you attempting to push a new extra large package through your door. “I meant anything, consider me your new delivery man, alright?”

“Ah, you really don’t have to. I still owe you for the Gojuchang..” the same paste you shamelessly never returned- that Jaemin would never ask you to bring back anyway.

“You don’t owe me anything.” He always made sure to reassure you with a large smile, removing his shoes as he entered your apartment and asked for directions.

“It’s a new drawer for the baby.” You said, motioning toward the spare bedroom you’d begun to decorate. From that day he refused to let you handle any furniture building on your own, to the point that he felt invasive for barging into your life this way.

The few comments you made here and there gave him enough hint that you’re on your own. No Omega soon to give birth should be alone, this is one of the most vulnerable times you will ever experience in your life. Besides, he likes helping you. He loves to hear you gasp when he effortlessly picks up the new crib you ordered, loves to hear your comments about how strong he is. Loves to still have your scent swarming around his head when he returns back to his apartment, and he really really loves being around you.

That’s why a coffee machine in your apartment has become necessary. After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he’s already on the way out, taking a few short steps to your place.

“Good morning.”

It’s become your normal day, sitting around on the couch watching lamaze videos as you practice your breathing. Jaemin’s changed his schedule around to fit your lifestyle. You have no idea how you got lucky enough to move in next door to a not only ridiculously handsome and helpful Alpha, but an extremely polite and giving one at that.

The nurses at your clinic always blush and giggle while he waits for you, drooling over the good looking built Alpha without a trace of mating mark on his skin. They’ve made a few comments to you, curious about him, curious about your relationship with him.

He’s not your Alpha, even if your Omega has started to believe so. How can you not with his constant concern for your wellbeing? The random gifts he brings to you, trying to pass them off as something he saw on his way home even though you saw the packages waiting at his door. He’s really been there for you, more caring than any Alpha you’ve been with before; including the absent one-night stand you had that wanted nothing to do with you when you contacted him to let him know.

Sure, the predicament you’ve ended up in isn’t the best, but as you fold new onesies and put away matching pacifiers you can’t find the will to be upset with your decision, even if this isn’t the way you imagined your future to unfold.

“How are you feeling today?”

He’s been repositioning the furniture that’s already set-up in the pups future room, finding where you’d like the crib to be placed before working on building your new items. “Still having trouble sleeping?”

Yes, sleeping has been rather difficult. It’s been months now since your last heat. 9 months to be exact, landing yourself where you are now after the wild excursions your last put you through. Throwing up, swollen feet, random cravings, and an aching back can’t nearly compare to how insanely frustrating it is to lose sleep. The push and pull happening between your thighs to your brain always hits at night. It started after the month you first moved in, the dreams that had you waking up soaked with slick.

Your physician had explained that they would only get worse, seeing as Omegas typically have an Alpha to handle those issues. The pregnancy suppressing your heat in turn makes your hormones 100 times worse.

And that is where Jaemin comes in, you tried to avoid him and keep your distance, but he’s just too damn nice. Making it impossible to turn down the Alphas unwarranted help, never asking anything of you in return, he simply wants to help.

After that night of craving chili paste, you solemnly patted your way back to your apartment, pathetically frowning at the tub of Gochujang you’d been craving.

Orgasm Donor?!? You could scream! The sexiest Alpha you’ve ever seen right next door in nothing but his boxers and a ridiculous sweater, it took all of the strength you could muster up from the moon Goddess herself to clamp your thighs shut and strain your muscles to not drip slick right there in his kitchen.

The Alpha had to know by now how dizzy his presence alone makes you. Having to sit down whenever he steps foot inside of your place, you sigh, biting down on your lip to not drool over how tight his shirt is today. Each movement flexing the strong muscles lining his broad back too visible. Even after being bred enough to get pupped you can’t control how crazy your hormones have made you feel these last couple of months. No amount of balancing tea or vitamin in the world can quell the need to get absolutely fucked by the strong Alpha taking up space in your future nursing room.

“Still bad I take it?” He says before you can respond, too lost in your thoughts to realize how long you’ve been staring off fantasizing about all the ways he could take you.

“Does it show?” You ask self consciously, rubbing your stomach to comfort yourself.

“Huh?” He turns, noticing that you’re playing with your hair, bringing it closer to your face. “Oh no no, you look as cute as ever.” He smiles that same charming toothy smile he always has specifically for you. “I just meant, y’know I worry about you getting enough sleep. I was reading and it’s important you get at least 10 hours minimum.”

“10 hours is wayyy too much..” you laugh, rubbing under your eyes trying to remember how bad your dark circles looked this morning.

“I can definitely help you fall asleep.” He says casually, not understanding how feral your Omega is. The little voice inside of you growling and lunging forward to escape with a ‘bet you can’. How much longer can you really endure having this Alpha around before you make headlines.

PREGNANT WOMAN CHOMPS THROUGH HER NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR ALPHAS BICEPS, CLAIMS HER HORMONES GOT THE BEST OF HER!

How humiliating. If only he understood your true despair stems from him and how rabidly horny he’s gotten you.

“How does this work? You’ll be sleeping in your bedroom while the pup stays in here, or will you be ruining your back on this chair?”

Jaemin asks nonchalantly, carrying on the conversation you’ve been checking in and out of. Quietly humming to himself as he positions a cushion on the seat of the rocking chair he’s been working on assembling for the last hour. He definitely took longer than what he’d estimated in his mind when you mentioned your new crib and chair arriving today. Not that he’d ever admit that he wanted to scream after 10 minutes of searching for one screw that the instructions called for. He’s sure the crib will take another two hours to set up after this(if he’s lucky), biting back a sigh to not catch your attention the more he thinks about it.

“I think for nap time it’d be best to get the pup used to this room, I’m sure I’ll struggle to not sleep by his side every night at first..” you admit shyly, cupping under your stomach and rubbing over the round exterior. He wants to agree that there’s no way a newborn pup would want to leave your side; not with the way your face lights up whenever kicks beat against your stomach or when he brings you back from your doctor visits listening to all the exciting future plans you have lined up.

“It’s probably not my place to say, but you shouldn’t fall asleep in here much. This chairs not that comfortable..” he frowns, testing out the rocking motion. “I’m sure we can find another crib that could fit in your bedroom..”

“Another crib is a bit out of my budget right now.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He grins, standing up to tap the large cardboard box you’re perched on. “Isn’t that what baby showers are for? I’m sure your family has already stocked up on things to gift you.”

Ah, a baby shower. Of course, how could you fail to mention that neither of your parents have spoken to you since the day you showed up at their doorstep 3 months pregnant, unmated and out of wedlock. “Ah, you—you have a point.” You mumble nervously. “You’ve been at this for a bit, I’ll get the coffee brewing.”

“Coffee sounds great right now.” Jaemin says, helping you stand up without releasing your hands until he deems your ankles steady enough to walk on your own. “You know how I like it.”

“Four shots of espresso over ice?”

“Exactly.” He winks your way, beginning to unbox the crib you’d shown him a few weeks ago. Some fancy overpriced one imported from Italy, a dream according to what you had said while he sat with you as you browsed through various baby decor online shops.

He really wanted to ask what the hell ever happened to Babies ‘R Us, recalling his days working across the street from one, but you looked too happy smiling wide as you showed him the different canopy designs and various woods used to customize each one.

“It’s perfect for a boy, don’t you think?”

Ah, these are really questions you should be asking your Alpha.. if you had one. His lips draw down, peeling open the cribs manual to divide and separate each piece into small sections to start working out.

It’s hard to believe an Alpha, any Alpha period could just up and leave their Omega to raise a child alone. Jaemin can’t forget the first day you moved in and struggled to drag your belongings down the hallway corridor creating an unnecessarily noisy ruckus outside of his apartment. He stormed out ready to curse you to hell for waking him up, having come home from the gym late the night prior and hoping to catch a few more Z’s that morning. The shout ready to exit his lips hung in the air upon seeing you nearly tip over and let a bag full of clothes spill onto the floor instead of risking the chance to fall and land on your stomach.

You had to have been only a few months along at the time, barely showing a small bump. You hadn’t spotted him yet as you stood there looking over your neatly folded clothes falling apart and making a big mess to clean up. Stress and exhaustion pulled at your soft glowing face, slowly sliding down to your knees to throw everything back in the bag you’d been carrying.

He contemplated speaking up, opening and shutting his mouth as he watched a tear slip down your cheek, swallowed past the seam of your lips. Anyone with half a brain would be able to read the room and assume you weren’t in the best situation given your state at the time. Still he couldn’t help but take in your pretty skin, glossy eyes batting away more tears from pouring, and the small pout permanently etched on your lips as you gathered your things.

“Here, let me help.” He said, deciding to bend over and grab your bag as you shoved in the last of your clothes. To your surprise, you glanced up, jaw hanging as you started to shake your head. “New neighbor?”

Everything progressed slowly from that moment. Sure, at first it was all a coincidence how often he’d find you having a hard time carrying packages from the mail, out of breath lugging your groceries from your car, cursing loudly whenever you’d burnt dinner and set off your fire alarms. He can’t deny making an effort after your first month next door to check in on you, whether you asked for help or not. Especially after the night you showed up begging for chili paste. Without being too intrusive he picked up on hints, figuring out that the Alpha that got you pregnant was clearly no longer a part of your life.

Instinctively he had to do what any respectable Alpha would willingly want to do. Helping you through these past 5 months has been entertaining to say the least. There’s a bit of charm to your silly nature, to how often you whine and complain about your feet getting wider, your back hurting, the odd cravings that hit in the middle of the night. The ones you still deny are cravings, he snorts thinking about that.

Jaemin’s had more fun getting to know you than he has had with some of his long term relationships, even turning down potential Omegas to spend weekends with you. Someone has to be here to make sure you don’t burn your spaghetti again..

And there’s a possible chance he’s developed some feelings, feelings beyond friendship. Could just be his Alpha viewing you as his mate, watching your stomach grow and expand every week does drive him a little crazy, just a tad.

“Hmm,” realizing he’s been reading the same paragraph over and over again without registering any instructions, he looks around and sits up. You’ve definitely been gone for longer than 10 minutes by now..

“How’s that coffee coming along?” He asks, jogging down the hall, feet hitting the brakes as soon as he makes it to the end. “Shit.”

“I—I don’t know what happened.” You cry, hands shaking above a broken mug and spilled dark liquid.

“Are you hurt?!” He rushes forward, falling to a squat to reach for your arms, hands pausing mid-air. “Oh my God..”

“I’m—I’m sorry, please don’t look..” you whine, hunching in to hide your breasts. It’s useless to try, completely leaked through your shirt leaving your pert nipples completely visible through the thin soaked material clinging to your ample chest.

“You’re—“ Jaemin stutters, swallowing a thick wad of saliva, mouth going dry at once as the sweet creamy scent of breast milk swirls around his tonsils. “I need t-to help you.”

“S’ok, I got it..”

“No no, come on.” He gulps, gently grabbing a firm hold on your waist to bring you back up with him. Against his insane willpower, he has to look. He has to lower his gaze and focus on how your breasts bounce as you find your balance. They’re so full, look painful and ready to burst. He’d read about this.. how Omegas can begin to lactate months prior to giving birth depending on how often they typically go into heat. He thought informing himself of all the possibilities would make everything much less daunting, but there’s no way to deny how fucking good the scent rolling off your warm flesh tastes as it seeps through his senses.

And when you regain your balance, reaching behind yourself to grab at the kitchen counter ledge, your chest shoves out even more, inadvertently spurting milky liquid from your nipples. He tries to keep his scent calm, tries to look away, tries to stop his fingers from itching to cup and squeeze out more. But fuck everythings hitting at once, spiking his scent, thrumming through his cock until it twitches against the inside of his sweats.

He should be ashamed, ashamed for objectifying this vulnerable moment, for imagining his lips sucking around your leaking buds, dragging the material of your shirt past his mouth to suck it clean.

“Alpha..” you moan, shattering any ounce of guilt he felt. Snapping his gaze to your face he nearly crumbles at your wet parted lips, the tears clinging to your lower lashes.

“I know Mama.” He agonizes, tightly gripping your waist as he works to take deep breaths through his mouth and blow out slowly, averting his gaze away from your body. “L-let me help you change.”

The last time he can recall feeling this feral had to have been the day before he woke up in his first rut. He’d been at the gym working up a sweat, arms on fire by the time he exited the weight training room and decided to end with cardio. Plans went astray when he neared a treadmill to hop on and looked around only to realize the gym had to have been full of Omegas. Omegas perspiring a damn storm judging by the way the aroma of sweet honey caramel skin and lush petals of Jasmine slapped him across the face. He had to leave after a minute to calm himself, head dizzy and feet off balance as he made his way to the lockers to melt away his perverse thoughts.

Even the hard-on he suffered to jerk off that night could not compare to how painfully his cock aches right now. Throbbing faster than a rapid heartbeat, he even fears his dick could burst if he has to swallow anymore of your scent, if he can’t rip his gaze away from your perky delectable nipples.

“Alpha, I’m hot.”

Fuck. You are. You’re so hot. He nods, unrealizing that he’s agreeing, not even noticing how scorching hot your skin feels through the material of your shirt. “T-think I should l-leave.” He says begrudgingly, feeling like a failure, a coward.

“Please.”

That’s it. That’s all it takes to strip away the last bit of self control he could come up with. It wasn’t much anyway, the mixture of your breast milk and delicious pregnant scent combined could send him straight into an impromptu rut. “A-are you sure?”

He licks at his plump lips, leaving a film of saliva over his naturally pink pout that makes your thighs squeeze together. Even with shards of broken mug too close to your feet and the pungent smell of coffee wafting between you, all you can think about is how big the Alpha is. He’s so big in front of you right now, bringing your need to feel small and taken care of to light. The independence you’ve convinced yourself of all dissipating with his large hands rubbing up and down your sides, arms flexing from the tense struggle running through his body.

“What should I do mama? Hmm? I need to clean you up.” The fear he had of taking the next giant leap of a step with you quickly exits, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes in your sobbing pretty face. He’s used that nickname a few times before, always sending shivers up your spine, but it’s worse now. The sugary tone he speaks to you in, so cute, striking each nerve as he moves you to the counter to get your bare feet away from the mess.

“Please Alpha, I feel..” thick arms wrap around your waist, laying his forehead gently on yours.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

It’s too hard to say anything with the tremors his question releases throughout your body, searching for his hand to slide it down past your stomach between your legs where slick has already started to seep through your leggings. “Here.”

“Fuck.” He hisses, biting down on his teeth. “You’re making me crazy, you know that?”

“S-sorry,” you hiccup, squeezing around his hand cupping your middle. “That’s w-where—hurts..”

He tsks, shoving inside your bottoms to drag his fingers through the wad of slick gathered between your folds. It’s so much, leaking out profusely, covering his palm and wrists as he slides in deeper to tease your hole. “Messy, so damn messy mama.”

“Ah, d-don’t!” You croon, eyes welling up with tears from the relief of finally having your pussy touched by someone other than yourself. Harder and harder to reach past your stomach most nights, you succumb to whimpering into your pillow frustrated, fantasizing that your neighbor would hear your distress and gallop in on a horse like your knight in shining armor. “Don’t call me t-that.”

“No?” He frowns, nose brushing yours. “But your pussy tightens up around my fingers so good when I do, mommy.”

“Alpha! Ugh!” Dropping your neck, you let out a long winded cry. Panting short of breath from his thumb working furiously to harden your clit. “S’too—too dirty, p-please!”

“You’re right,” his tongue clicks, echoing around the kitchen. “You are still so so dirty mommy.”

With one arm he manages to lift your butt onto the counter, nodding for you to scoot on with a pat on your hip. He settles between your parted thighs, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Wait!” You panic, gripping around his wrists. “Don’t..don’t want you to see..”

“What??” Gasping surprised, he blinks confused, rubbing the fabric of your shirt between his fingers.

“My body right now—“ you flush, darting your gaze away ashamed. “Don’t want you to see..

“Nonsense.” He snaps, using a firmer tone with you that you’re not accustomed to hearing. “You think this,” touching your stomach, he glides upward to cup and squeeze your breasts. “And this? Doesn’t make me feel rabid out of my damn mind to fuck you right here, break the laws of humanity and wolf alike, get you pregnant with my pup somehow?”

It’s the angriest he’s ever looked, wrinkled between his nose and eyebrows, glaring at his heavy palms kneading your breasts to make more milk trickle. “Fuck, I’ve tried so hard to know my place, to show you nothing but respect..”

“S-stop,” you gulp, letting go of his wrists to smooth up and squeeze his biceps, clawing your short nails into the muscles. “Disrespect me, please Alpha..”

Big round eyes stare at you full of shock, taking in how you bite on your lip shyly. The trickles of milk so creamy and thick, spilling down his hands to his flexed forearms. “One thing I’ll never do—“ pressing in, he licks at your Cupid’s bow, long eyelashes blinking against your cheek. “Is disrespect you.”

The sound of your shirt ripping open has you gasping, sinking your nails deeper into his muscles. “But since you asked so fucking nicely.”

He gets the message quickly as you reach for the collar of his shirt and pull hard enough to stretch the fabric, quickly stepping back to strip it off and fully display his well built shoulders and chest. The gurgle from your throat that follows pleases him, returning your hands to feel every inch of new muscle you weren’t familiar with. His mouth is too thirsty, salivating as he takes your full breasts again without anything to hide your swollen nipples and admires them for less than a minute. Lapping at his wet lips as he shoves between your cleavage, licking up the remnants of dried and fresh milk with a deep groan.

Fuck. It’s incredible, nothing he’s ever tasted before. Sweet nectar that can only pour from a fertile breedable Omega built to birth healthy pups. Every sense and nerve in his system lights on fire, digging his face between your ample chest despite your cried moans. It’s bliss, more intense and real than anything, shoving his tongue between your tits to fuck the small gap.

“Alpha!”

Breast milk won’t stop running down his arms, opening his mouth wide to capture one of your hard nipples. The nub digs against the roof of his mouth, slurping down the cream as your other tit leaks akin to a broken faucet. “So fucking good mommy.” Jaemin says roughly, pulling away to look over your pleasured face.

His lips swollen pink with a sheen milky layer, completely debauched as he goes in for more and attends to your other nipple. They swell up after many nibbles, gently digging his teeth into your firm buds. Each suck tastes sweeter than the last as your scent spikes and Omegan arousal swirls around him. The strong tones of milk mixing in with yours has his Alpha fanatic, jerking his hips against the kitchen counter for some type of friction on his cock.

“Alpha please, my pussy, please.” You ask too innocently, as if the activity that expanded your stomach out in the first place didn’t prove otherwise. He grunts for you to wait, shoving his face back in-between your bosom, jiggling the fleshy meat against his cheeks. If not for your hips jumping up he’d continue to assault your tits, spend hours playing with them until you have nothing else left to quench his insatiable thirst.

“Bet your pussy tastes just as sweet.” He grumbles, moving down onto his knees to pull off your leggings and panties in one go. “Fucking hell.”

The amount of slick painted across your thighs and ass could compete with the local community pool, maybe even replenish a tiny village. His cock jump’s fiercely at the sight before him, lavving the residue of breast milk on his lips for a clean taste as he dives in.

“Jaemin!” You shout, scrambling to grab onto something at the first stroke of the Alphas tongue prodding between your chubbed folds. The sounds he makes only add fuel to the fire, releasing more slick with each deep growl and bated panting breath.

“Taste so damn good Omega,” he hums, enamored by how syrupy and powerful your scent slaps him across the face from between your thighs. Shuffling forward on his knees, he holds your thighs open to stretch his jaw wide and roll his tongue from your entrance to your clit, jolting your legs to kick the kitchen drawers with his skills.

Everything feels so good, spinning your mind around. The only frustration as you peer down is the sight of your round stomach completely hiding the Alphas lustful gaze and sloppy tongue. “Alpha, pleasepleaseplease!” sobbing, you kick at the drawers again. “Can’t see your face! C-can’t see!”

Jaemin shoots up at the sound of your affliction, eyes blown wide with concern as he reaches for your shoulders to sit you up. “Shh shh, I’m here.” He smiles, a disaster of slick covering his nose, lips and chin. “Look at me pretty mama.”

“Mmm..” reaching for his face, you smear the slick on his lips. “Messy.”

“Messy for you.” He kisses at your thumbs, sucking on the tip of one he captures. “Such a bad mommy, wants to watch her pussy get ate?”

Nodding feebly you move to stroke his neck, squeezing around. “Can’t see you down there..”

“Stay like this okay?” He instructs, pecking you, leaving slick on your chin. “Sit just like that, you’re doing so good for me mama.”

Setting your palms on the counter, he opens your thighs up a little wider, getting down into a squat to keep his head at level with your knees. “Keep your pretty eyes on me. Gonna make you feel good.”

His eyes stay on yours, one palm splayed on your thigh as his other reaches just under your navel. Stretching his neck back into an uncomfortable angle, his tongue hangs out, blinking up at you before diving back in to lap at your clit. Wide firm licks catch your sensitive folds, face rocking back and forth to really let you feel his tongue stroking between each crevice.

Big watery doll eyes stay facing up to watch you fall apart, scratching at the counter desperately to not reach for his hair to slam his face in deeper. Slippery hot stiff pressure teases under your clit, he keeps it there twitching the muscle until your hips start to rock forward and tears erupt from the corners of your eyes. The heat inside of your stomach pools, coiling up to your chest making it harder to breathe. He keeps at it for another minute until your eyebrows scrunch together.

The lick he delivere to your clit sparks raging nerves up your spine, arching forward and nearly losing your balance on the counter to fuck his face.

Dipping lower he finally plunges as much of his tongue as he can inside of you, slapping your inner thigh when you shout out in pleasure. The thick fat muscle rubs at your inner walls, sucking down the slick that tries to choke him out. Much like your breasts, he could spend hours just like this between your supple thighs, memorizing the way you fall apart and shake from every lap and stroke of his tongue.

Finally caving, you grip onto his hair, crying out brokenly. “I’m c-cum—“ his tongue disappears before you can complain, moving to stand and shove three fingers inside your cunt. “Ahhh!”

“Look at me mama, be good for Alpha.” He orders throatily, vocals thick and corded with slick. “Squeeze that pretty pussy around my fingers, give it to me.”

“Jaem—Alpha!” The heels of your feet slam against the drawers painfully, reaching for his wrist as he jerks the three digits stretching you open. Bicep rippling from the strength being used to shoot your release out around his relentless working fingers. “S’too—good.”

“God you cum so fucking pretty.” He sighs, gently drawing free to rub your clit while you twitch against him. Lips finding yours to calm your high with tender kisses.

“Come here pretty.” Jaemin says huskily, daring to scoop you up without a hitch, bare round stomach pressed to his smooth abs just enough to not apply pressure. He turns toward your living room, setting you down on the couch to grab a few pillows. “Here baby, let me make it comfortable for you.”

“Alpha..” you whine, still conscious of how big you must look on your back like this. He only smiles, bending in close to kiss your lips.

“I can’t knot you, don’t want you to stay in this position too long.” He says, sweating through excruciating horny pangs shooting through his dick.

“Please Jaemin, want you i-inside.” You beg much too prettily, pulling his lips back to bare his teeth. He wants to be gentle with you so badly, wants to focus on you and make you cum to your heart’s content. But God you aren’t making it easy.

“Only for a little, okay?” He says raggedly, hoisting you to sit leaned against the pillows to take pressure off your lower back and still make it easy to get between your legs. “If it’s too much I’ll stop.”

“Won’t be too much Alpha, need you so bad.” You say drowsily, still drunk from the orgasm his fingers and mouth ripped out of you. He nods, tugging on the string holding his sweats up, blushing when he sees the giant wet stain of pre-cum that’s leaked through the cotton fabric. “I should put a condom on.”

“I’m already knocked up.” You giggle, covering your face. “Don’t want anything between us.”

Fuck. You’ll be the death of him talking like that. Pushing down his sweats, he gasps at how red the tip of his cock is, looking painful to the touch. There’s no way he’ll be able to last long enough to not pop a knot inside of you.

“Alpha.” You whisper, angled perfectly in a half seated position to see how enraged his dick looks flush against his stomach. He doesn’t even have to stroke it, doesn’t want to out of fear of cumming before he even enters you.

“You sure about this?” He asks once more through gritted teeth, already lining the tip up to your entrance.

“Pl-lease.. haven’t gotten fucked in s-so long.” You hiccup, too excited, bending your neck in to watch his throbbing red cockead nudge against your hole.

“Fuck! Ahh,” hissing, he gingerly grabs the base of his size, slowly pushing in until your cunt snaps around him. So tight, tight like you haven’t been fucked in months exactly as you just admitted. He’d fuck you so hard, make you take every inch until his dicks coming out of your nose. But now’s not the time, this isn’t about him no matter how hard the veins lining his length throb in disagreement. “Feel g-good?” He asks, licking at the sweat beading on his upper lip.

“M-more, please!”

He can’t do it, can’t push more than the tip in because it’d be too greedy. Even if he gets you off first it’d be too fucking greedy. As painful as it is to ignore the begging cries you let out, he opts to press down on your clit. Thumbing the stiff nub back and forth with short thrusts drawing the fat tip of his cock in and out enough to have a perfect view of your hole stretching around him. “So good, you’re doing so good for me mommy.”

“Alpha!” You twitch, lower back arching up starving for more. “P-please! Deeper!”

He wants to cave, give you everything you want, make you cum on his cock and bloat your stomach out even further with rivers of cum deep inside of you. “C-can’t.” He grits, grabbing onto your hips firmly to stop himself from thrusting in further. “D-don’t make me..”

“Need it! I need it!” You keep pleading, head tossed back with your wet spit slick lips parted open panting. “Fuck me! F-fuck me please! Put another baby in me!”

“Ahh, you c-can’t say that!” He growls in pain, digging the tips of his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave marks. You can’t say that, anything but that. “Mommy wants Alphas cum.”

“Y-yes,” you whine, stroking down your stomach to direct his gaze beneath your navel. “Wanna feel you h-here, mommy wants it.”

“Shitshit,” that’s it, that’s enough to jerk his hips and push in another inch. How could you ask this of him? How could you act like such a sweet pilant breedable bitch, begging to get fucked and fucked until all you know how to do is get pupped. “Yeah, mommy wants it deep.”

His sack feels heavy as he plunges in the rest of his length inch by inch, slapping against your rim balls deep. “Get you pregnant again, keep you pupped up with my baby.” He rambles, focusing on not slamming his cock in like a wild animal. Having to squeeze his eyes shut to not cum when he sees your milk filled breasts bouncing up high enough to hit under your chin. “Fuckfuckfuck, you’re too much.”

He sounds so desperate, dying to ram into you faster with each rough grip on your hips. Pushing up off his knees, he squats to angle his cock in even deeper, making your lips fall open with a loud shouted moan. “Right t-there mama? Is that it? You want it there?” He asks, raspy and throaty, deep voice coming out from a deep torned place.

“Alpha!” You stammer, spluttering the same words over and over again mindlessly.

“Look at me,” he groans, bending in closer to cup your cheek and grind his hips. “W-wanna feel you cum on my cock. Gonna cum for me mama?”

“Fuck, ahh!” His thumb presses against your bottom lip, nodding with you as his other hand slips between your conjoined lower halves. Expert figure eights work more slick out making his cock slide in even easier if possible, wet and messy rivering down his inner thighs.

“Cum for me, come on.” He growls, thrusting a little faster to chase your release. His balls slapping against the dip of your ass with each push in. The entirety of his length penetrates in and out, skyrocketing your pleasure by pinching your clit. Each flick and rub rushes heat through your stomach and chest, toes curling as you find his wide blown out eyes.

“F-fuck me, breed me full of cum.” You plead between gritted teeth, reaching to hold around his neck, suffocating the scream that rips from your chest. It’s been so long since you last had a release this strong, unable to even arch up with the weight of your stomach holding you down. You kick out and cry against his pouty lips, eyes rolling back.

“That’s it mommy,” he cries, eyes watering up as your walls squeeze the life from this dick and he has to do everything in his power to stop himself. His Alpha screaming at the top of its lungs to knot knot knot! Especially with the way you beg for it, the way your pussy swallows his dick whole and grovels to be knotted.

“Don’t p-pull out, please Alpha.” You sob, opening your hands in search of his. “Inside me, s-stay inside.”

“Ughh!” Jaemin can’t stop himself anymore, shoving his cock in to fill up to the brim with a few more sloppy thrusts. Reaching for your hands, he bends over bridging his upper half above yours. The muscles lining his stomach twitch and clench, sucking in at his navel as he draws his length out to the tip and the base of his cock expands. It’s more painful than he’d expected, his Alpha howling like a beast inside, gnawing through his facade of strength as tears pour down his cheeks. “Fuck. Fuck!”

He sniffles, cockhead still lodged inside your tight hole spurting out sticky cum that seems to satiate you judging by the long sigh you let out.

“Alpha..” you say drowsily, eyes half-lidded with the most serene smile looking back at him. “Sleepy.”

Nodding furiously, he kisses your hands before releasing your hold, quickly wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Pulling out okay? Need to clean you up.”

Jaemin hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to not bend at your will, having to tune out the way you whine for him to stay inside of you. His Alpha shouts and snarls, berating him for not listening to their Omega.

He’s so fucked, already recognizing you as his mate without considering what you must feel right now, driven by your out of whack hormones and lust.

“Don’t leave me.” You pout, whining so pretty.

“I’m not going anywhere mama.” He reassures, leaning in to kiss your stomach. “But I need to get you cleaned off before you fall asleep, alright?”

He tries to make it quick, scrambling to fill up a bowl of warm water and grab a few washcloths. Can’t be fast enough when he jogs back to the living room to find your eyes fluttering open and shut. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take you to bed.”

“Nooo,” you continue to whine, huffing petulantly. “Too heavy..”

“I bench 280, don’t doubt me.” He chuckles, shaking his head. Sitting by your side, he slowly cleans the mess of slick and cum that’s dripped down to your thighs and ass, patting the area dry. “How are you feeling?”

“Eepy.”

He’d squeeze you if he wasn’t so happy to hear that you’re relaxed enough to possibly get a full night of sleep. Proudly smiling to himself as he finishes cleaning you off and bends closer to your face. “Time for bed.”

“Don’t leave me..”

He scoffs playfully, getting up to position you on top of his arms, squatting down to ensure he picks you up properly. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Mmm..” true to his word he carries you to your room without much struggle, softly laying you down on your bed and stumbling when you grab onto his arm and pull. “Stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop asking.”

He sighs, moving to the empty side of your bed, shoulders instantaneously losing the tense concern and worry he’d been holding onto. You can talk about this in the morning, or the afternoon, or at night, or never.

Maybe he can just accept that you both wanted this and more than anything he wants this. He wants to help you with your pup, take care of you after you give birth, help cook and clean, make sure you’re well fed after hours of trying to put your pup to sleep.

It can really be this easy, living here in this moment. In the safe comforting space of your small apartment that’s started to feel more like home than his own. Playing house with you has brought him more relief than hours at the gym.. long nights out partying.

He watches you get comfortable on your side, beginning to breathe in and out more shallowly.

“Jaem..”

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring.” You murmur, trying to hide a smile.

“I am.” Scooting in closer, he lightly rests a hand on your stomach. “I’m scared to ask, but this is okay, right?”

A cute growl emits from your chest, laying a hand over his. “I’ll let it slide, you do a real good job around here.”

“It’s okay, you can finally admit that you like me.” Letting out a long sigh, he nestles in closer, cheek resting on your chest. “I like you too.”

“Do you?”

“Is it standard for Alphas to cancel their plans every week to hang out with their pregnant Omega neighbor?” He hums, following your hand to rub your stomach. “Ah, what am I saying? I was all happy to get you to fall asleep and now I’m talking your ear off.”

He’s met with the light sound of breath, lifting his gaze to find you well past counting sheep. Adjusting to cradle your head better, he kisses your forehead. “Night night angel baby.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

#jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #neopuppy fics #na jaemin fanfiction #jaemin fanfiction #nct dream fanfiction #nct fanfiction #nct x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction

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inkdrinkerworld · 26 days

Note

hello!! could you write about spencer catching sunshine reader during a sad time? like perhaps reader has very rarely shown spencer what she gets like when shes sad, so when he catches her, she is stubborn at first and doesn't want to open up, but eventually eases into it? thank you :))

Cw: mentions of parents venting to their kids, being sad

Wc: 1.4k

You’re not sure what you'd done to deserve a day like today exactly, only that you’d woken up and from the very first moment you’d had a hard time of it.

Your planned outfit had a stain, you forgot to make extra dinner to have for lunch, you cut your ankle shaving and then your mom called.

Calls with her have a habit of being fifty fifty. It can either be a good call, or it can be a call where she uses you as a sounding board for all her negative thoughts, worries and despite the many times you’ve told her to stop, she hasn’t.

It’s safe to say by the time you walk into work you don’t even have the energy to smile- you’re using it all not to cry.

Not even your back up outfit is working it's magic- a green top with brown pants, your favourite outfit to feel like a hobbit.

Emily calls you into the round table room as soon as you walk in, giving you a little more reason to avoid Spencer’s curious gaze.

Spencer doesn’t really take into account just how bad your mood is till you volunteer to stay in Quantico with Penelope rather than go out in the field.

“Y/n?” He touches your elbow gently as the rest of the team go for their bags. It’s just you and him in the round table room and your hands shake from holding back tears.

Spencer hasn’t ever seen you this upset, sure during a case you’re mad at the things you guys read and uncover, but this is a different type of upset and Spencer doesn’t really know what to do with it.

He just knows he wants to make it better.

“Yeah Spence?” You try to keep your voice even, knowing he’ll only worry more and the case needs his worry more than you do.

“What’s going on? You haven’t looked up at me once and you keep scrunching your nose. You also haven’t smiled since you got here.” He’s a profiler to his core, but this is just you and him, of course he’d notice everything.

You shrug, scrunching your nose again. “The case isn’t exactly something to be happy about, is it?”

Spencer knows what you’re trying to do, but you don’t get the tone right for anger- you just sound defeated.

“Either way, you and Penelope have a knack for smiling through it and you haven’t even tried once.” Ever soft, ever tender are the words that escape him.

He bends his knees a little, chasing your eyes. “What is it?” Spencer’s thumb strokes the inside of your wrist, wanting nothing more than to help.

“Spencer, can we talk about it when the case is over?” You can feel the pressure of the tears behind your eyes and you don’t want to cry here.

Not where anyone can see.

You’d much rather do it at home, where you can curl up under your blanket and sob until you lose your voice.

“Alright, but we will talk; yeah?” You nod and Spencer squeezes your forearm, a firm and soothing pressure on your skin.

The case takes a day and a half to wrap up, and you’re barely holding it together- Penelope lent you her favourite unicorn desk pal for the entire case and also her fluffy pen.

“I’m sorry, babe. You’ll feel better once this is over and you can have a good cry.” She says, your head on her shoulder as you wait for your team to come back.

You nod, “How badly do you think Spencer will react if I start crying now?” Your throat is tight with emotion- honestly you’re not sure if it’s just from your previous day or also the exhaustion of working into the next evening.

“Oh, pretty bad,” she says and you chuckle, a few tears rolling freely down your face. “But I think he’ll be more worried.”

Before you can say anything, there’s a knock on Penelope’s door and you already know who it is- only Spencer knocks. You wipe away the tears hoping that will be enough to hide them from Spencer- it likely won’t be.

“See you tomorrow Pen,” you say, gathering your things and opening the door.

Spencer looks more tired than you expected and you have to assume you don’t look so rested either.

“You’re back,” he nods, taking your satchel bag from you and reaching for your hand.

“What’s wrong?” He murmurs, leading you to a secluded spot in the hall. Spencer doesn’t say it, but your eyes bare all your emotions even if your face is neutral. They’re red and they’ve got a sad look about them, just completely and utterly exhausted. Spencer wants to help any way he can.

You debate how you should start, if you should just tell him about your bad day from beginning to end or if you should just tell him about your weird relationship with your mother and let him fill in the blanks from there.

You decide it wouldn’t be fair to Spencer because he never had you guessing when he’s sharing things so you won’t do it to him.

“Um,” you can already feel the pressure building behind your eyes again. “Yesterday was off to a terrible start, nothing was going quite right from the moment my feet hit the floor.”

Spencer nods, listening quietly as you wring your hands tightly. He takes them easily, holding them in his own and stroking the skin on the back of your hand.

“Then my mom called which could really go either way, and I had to listen to her complain about my dad and every other thing in her life and it gives me a lot of anxiety hearing some of the things and she just wouldn’t stop.”

Your tears are rolling freely now and Spencer pulls you to his chest, fear of germs be damned.

He quiets his own feelings about you crying and about the way you sound recounting your day.

“She just says these things like I’m supposed to be the one to fix them and I can’t and she’s mad that I can’t and it just messes with me sometimes.”

Spencer can deduce what you’re too kind to say- it isn’t your fault or your problem and you shouldn’t be made to feel like it’s your responsibility to make it right.

Your hands shake against Spencer’s back and he sighs, squeezing you just a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry,” his hands coast up and down your back, massaging at the nape of your neck when he reaches there. “I’m sorry she puts it on you, and I know that you’re aware it isn’t your problem to solve but you can’t help that either. Maybe over time she’ll come to realise that you can’t solve all of the things she tells you.”

You nod, trying to stop hiccuping against him. “M’sorry about your shirt Spence.” He laughs, nose in your hair as he holds you.

“It’s okay,” you sniffle harshly trying to clear your sinus. “Want to come over and watch Lord of The Rings?” This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been there- you’ve spent nights there after drinks with the team and movie nights just the two of you.

All the same it’s a shocking proposal from Spencer right after a case, you know he likes to decompress in his own way.

You gasp, leaning back from his arms a little. It’s hard to miss the care displayed so clearly in his gaze. It’s harder to fight the urge to kiss him. “The extended versions?” Spencer notes that you’ve a little more spark in your tone, a little more life in your eyes.

“Yeah, I think we can make it through the entire trilogy if we hurry.” There’s a grin on his lips as he says it.

“Spencer, don’t play with me here. We’re talking serious business.” He laughs, hiking your bag higher on his shoulder as he watches you wipe your tears.

“I’m not playing. Is your go-bag full or do you want to stop by your place on the way to mine?” He hopes secretly that you don’t have your own sleep clothes, it’s a selfish want to see you in one of his shirts or even a cardigan.

“I have clothes, we can go straight there. And you’re driving, you have all the maps in your head with the shortest routes.”

Spencer nods, like he was ever going to make you drive. “Plus you’re a hazard on the road, absolute chaos behind a wheel.”

Spencer feels his chest lighten when your laugh explodes from you, loud and so like yourself as you wait for the elevator to open.

#spencerreid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x sunshine!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid

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tobesolonely · 7 months

Text

A/N: this is the first thing I've written in like 8 months and it's basically just smut...I was inspired...18+ please lol (this isn't proofread and maybe it should be hahahah)

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

“It’s like ripping off a bandaid, love. Just go for it.”

Harry and Y/N were situated in the bathroom, Harry sitting on a small stool facing the mirror with Y/N behind him. She had a pair of hair-cutting scissors in one hand and clippers in the other. He was really doing this.

“You know if you’re bald, you can’t steal my hair clips anymore, right?”

He gives her a faint smirk. “That crossed my mind.”

“No more running your hands through it.”

“Are you upset about that, or am I?”

“This is drastic!”

Harry meets Y/N’s gaze in the mirror before turning around to face her. “Darling, it’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Please help me cut it before I lose my nerve.”

So Y/N ends up with scissors to her boyfriend’s luscious, signature curly locks. Each strand of hair that falls on the ground nearly causes her to flinch, and out of her peripherals, she can see Harry watching her every move.

“Just trying to be careful to make sure it looks good…the whole point of me cutting it is to avoid you going to the shop, yeah?”

Harry reaches behind him at this, slightly squeezing her thigh in confirmation. “I know, love. I didn’t say anything. I don’t have anywhere to be.”

Y/N asks him at least two more times if he is sure before taking the clippers to his head, but when Harry gives her a firm nod telling her to proceed, she tries to remind herself to breathe as she shaves the first section. Harry shivers at the sensation of his hair hitting his bare back and shoulders.

“‘S a good thing I got the head shape for going bald, huh?”

“Well…”

”Y/N! You’re gonna make me second guess-”

“I’m kidding, H! I think you’ve got a lovely head shape for going bald,” Y/N positions herself in front of him so she can better see what she’s doing at the front of his head, near his hairline. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair shorter than when you cut it for Dunkirk.”

“Remember when I picked you up one day without mentioning it because I thought it would be a fun surprise?”

Y/N pauses her movements, playfully glaring at him. “I think I’d mistake you for an intruder or something if you came through the door completely bald with no warning.”

“Isn’t it nice that I asked you to do it for me this time instead of just shocking you?”

Y/N hums at this, and the couple falls into a comfortable silence as she continues to cut his hair. Harry fiddles with his hands in his lap and reaches behind him occasionally to stroke Y/N’s thigh, but nothing is said between the two.

Harry’s the first to break their cozy silence. “Woah…my hair.”

“I know.”

He turns around on the stool, looking up slightly to make direct eye contact with her. “You like it, though?”

“It’ll grow on me.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m kidding, H.”

He turns back to the mirror, inspecting his reflection. “Tell me you like it, babe. Even if you don’t.”

Y/N lets out a small giggle at her boyfriend’s fishing for a compliment. “You look handsome. It’ll take some getting used to, but…I do like it.”

Harry makes a slight, triumphant noise before letting Y/N resume the task at hand. She splashes lukewarm water on the top of his head and gently pats it dry with a hand towel before finishing off with his favorite aftershave.

“Good?”

Harry leans in close to the mirror and turns his head from side to side, carefully inspecting his new look. After a few moments, he nods, turning back to Y/N and leaning in to kiss her.

“It’ll take some getting used to on my end, too, but I think I like it.”

“They say that after you shave your head, your hair comes back healthier and stronger than ever.”

“So we’re shaving yours next, then?”

Y/N playfully swats her boyfriend, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, no.”

Harry shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind, darling.”

He exits the bathroom, searching for the broom and dustpan to get up his hair while Y/N goes downstairs to begin dinner. He joins her soon after, wordlessly telling her to sit down and relax when he picks up the knife she just set down to stir the pot of sauce she had bubbling on the stove. In front of her sits a cutting board with an onion, garlic, and different colored bell peppers. Y/N hated cutting those vegetables because she didn’t like how hard the smell was to get off her hands, so he knew she was leaving that task for last in hopes that he would do it (he did, of course).

“I hate chopping vegetables.”

“I know, love.”

Harry reaches up to run his hands through his curls out of force of habit and abruptly stops when he realizes there is no longer anything to actually run his hands through. He turns to take a quick peek at Y/N to see if she saw him. She did.

“I knew that would happen!” She exclaims with a laugh. “I just didn’t think it would happen less than an hour after cutting your hair.”

“It’s an adjustment period!” Harry responds with mock defensiveness, joining Y/N in her glee. Even if she was laughing at him instead of with him, he still felt all warm inside because at least he was the reason for her laughter.

“I can’t wait for our friends to see–what do you think Mitch is gonna say?”

Harry spins around, and yanks opens the cabinet in search of one of the many boxes of pasta they always had on hand. “Penne or bowtie?”

“Bowtie,” Y/N gets up from her seat at the kitchen island to fill their big pot with water to boil the noodles. “I bet he’ll be shocked, especially because his hair is so long. Do you think he would ever cut his hair?”

Harry smiles at his girlfriend’s chattiness. “I think he’ll make fun of me a bit - maybe call me an egghead or something to that degree. He’ll like it, though.”

“What do you think the fans will say?”

Harry lets out a huff of air. “Oh, they’ll have the most to say. It’ll grow on them, I’m sure.”

“I can’t wait to see all the discourse on Twitter.”

“Only send me funny Tweets.”

Y/N hums in confirmation and goes back to her seat at the table after putting the water on to boil. “You know what I’ll miss the most about your hair?”

“What’s that?” Harry asks his question absentmindedly as he putters around the kitchen, retrieving plates and two wine glasses. “Wine?”

“Yes, please,” Y/N pauses. “Gonna miss having something to tug on during sex.”

Harry pauses his movements at this, his full attention now on his girlfriend. “Oh, yeah?”

She nods.

“You can still grab on me.”

“Not your hair, though.”

“You can leave me scratches. Will that suffice until my hair grows back?”

Y/N pretends to be deep in thought at this, which causes Harry to laugh loudly. She answers after a few moments. “I suppose that’ll work…”

“Y’know how much I love when you mark up my back,” Harry uncorks a bottle of wine and pours them each a small glass. “Now, there will be no excuses not to.” He walks over to Y/N, carefully handing her her own glass of wine before taking a sip of his. She then takes a sip, puckering her face at the slightly bitter taste.

The conversation is forgotten until the couple is in their room after dinner, bellies full of pasta and tongues stained slightly purple from their red wine.

“Is that really what you’ll miss most about my hair?”

“Hmm?” Y/N hums in response for Harry to continue, distracted at her vanity with her (overly) extensive skincare routine.

“Pullin’ on it during sex.”

Y/N looks at him through her reflection in the mirror. “I mean, maybe not literally the most, but it’s up there. Gonna take some getting used to, that’s all.”

“Maybe we should have sex now so you can start gettin’ used to it.” Harry has a sly look, eyelids slightly drooping from his arousal and the wine he consumed at dinner. Y/N throws her head back in laughter.

“You know you can just straight up ask for it, yeah?” She caps the last of her serums and turns around to face her boyfriend, stalking toward the bed as she continues talking. “I’m never not gonna want you to give it to me.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry now has a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gonna mark my back all up? Remind me who I belong to whenever I get in the shower?” There was nothing he reveled in more than the burning sensation of hot water hitting his freshly scratched back after a particularly rough session with his girlfriend.

Y/N nods in response as she drops a knee onto the bed, plopping down in front of her boyfriend. Harry smirks at how she’s already been rendered wordless, situating himself on his knees as she pushes her onto her back. “But first…”

He places his hands on either side and immediately dives in, licking a broad stripe up her pussy. Harry quietly moans in pleasure when Y/N lets out a choked gasp, hands immediately reaching out to grab his head.

“Oh, fuck…,” she groans, throwing her head back in pleasure. “Just like that, H.”

He moves his attention to her swollen clit, flicking it quickly in between his tongue. “Like this?”

Y/N sucks in a particularly sharp breath when Harry speeds up his movements, eyes smug at the fact he already had Y/N’s thighs quivering when he hadn’t even been between them for a full minute yet.

“Harry, please…”

He lifts his head momentarily to answer her, lips glistening with a combination of his saliva and her arousal. “Please what, darling?”

Y/N balls-up the fist resting on Harry’s head out of force of habit, letting out a frustrated whine when she’s met with nothing. He chuckles at this and simply reaches up, moving her hand in the direction of his back. Her nails reflexively dig into his back when he resumes his menstruation on her pussy.

His tongue begins moving impossibly faster, wanting to get her there now. He knew she needed this orgasm just as badly as he needed to give it to her. Harry lets out a sharp hiss when he feels her nails drag down the expanse of his back, her moans increasing in frequency and volume. She was close. He removes his tongue from her clit, replacing his mouth with his fingers.

“There you go, angel,” he reaches up to grab her chin with his free hand to force her to look down at him, not up at the ceiling. “Open your eyes and look at me when I’m making you feel this good.”

Y/N forces her eyes open to look at her boyfriend’s. She watches as he thumbs impossibly fast over her swollen bud, murmuring praises and sweet words about how she’s so beautiful and always gets so wet so fast for him. It doesn’t take much longer before Y/N is throwing her head back with a cry, nails digging into Harry’s back and dragging down as she cums. All she sees is flashes of white, hears ringing in her ears and she thinks it might be the best orgasm she’s had all week. Harry sucks her clit through the entirety of her orgasm, wanting to milk her pleasure for as long as humanly possible. He can feel his back beginning to sting and he wonders if Y/N scratched hard enough to draw blood. He hoped so.

“No more…,” she mumbles quietly, pushing her boyfriend’s mouth away from her most sensitive area. “Shit.”

“All good?” He messily wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning down to give her a chaste kiss. “Still missing the hair?”

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

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#harry styles #harry #harry smut #harry fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut

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literaila · 3 months

Text

stress baking

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you bake a cake and satoru tries to distract you

warnings: mom guilt (angst), fluff, satoru, etc.

last part | next part

year five.

“ooo,” satoru reaches a hand across the counter, fingers about to contaminate everything in the kitchen. “frosting.”

you're slouching against the oven, trying to pretend like the cakes have been cooling long enough to frost when he comes in.

and you know immediately that you've been caught. satoru can read your mind with a mere glance most days, and so you try to avoid his eyes. because really--you don't need (or want) his input about this

you slap his hand away, turning away from the cakes. “don’t touch,” you tell him, glaring. “i don’t know where your hands have been.”

satoru grins at you, leaning against the counter so he can observe your corrupted workspace. “i can assure you that you do.”

you roll your eyes, flipping a cake pan over. it shouldn't take too much longer, really. just a couple... hours.

“what is this? did i forget about a birthday?” he looks up suddenly, startled. “was it yours?”

you scoff, moving every edible thing away from his reach, and still don't look up at him. but you can still feel every moment he makes, like a secret intuition.

as if knowing this, satoru smiles, leaning his elbows against the counter, face in hands, just watching you. “nah, i wouldn’t forget that.”

“hmm, when’s my birthday again?”

“it’s… uhhh a day. once a year," you make a face, scrunching your nose away from him, and he resolves. “the best day of the year?”

you ignore him--and your stupid instinct to look at his face, in his eyes, and observe every expression he makes--wishing that cakes were sturdier. it's late enough that you already know this is going to be a disaster. can you make cement appetizing?

“no, really,” satoru waves a hand in your face. “what is this?”

“it’s a cake.”

“for what?”

“tsumiki.”

he raises a brow, tapping on your forehead to get you to pay attention to him. “is it her birthday?”

“no, you deadbeat dad, her birthdays in may.”

“right.”

you roll your eyes again, cutting the top off of the cake. still, you try to keep your eyes concealed from him. your entire being--even though you're well aware that it's futile.

satoru can feel it when you cut yourself shaving in the shower, so it's likely that he already knows what you're doing.

and exactly why you're doing it.

but, you can play chicken with him for hours. you're very used to pretending like he doesn't know what you know that he knows. very very good.

“sooo..." satoru drawls, voice bright and smiley. like the demon he is. "what’s it for?”

you sigh, wanting to throw the excess cake at him. “can you use some critical thinking skills? just once, please?”

“why would i do that when you could just tell me?”

unforunately, the two of you both know that he's not going to leave without an answer. he's purposefully using your greatest weakness--his face, your heart, your irritating want to tell him every thought that crosses your mind--against you.

but who's fault is that if not your own?

“she’s worried about a test tomorrow,” you say, slowly, finally turning to look at him, trying not to wince. “so i’m making her a cake.”

satoru is already grinning, hand partially covering his mouth. you glare at his terrible attempts not to laugh at you.

at least his eyes are pretty. his cheeky eyebrows and stupid knowing look. without the view, you know, satoru would mean absolutely nothing to you (and everything, of course).

“will it give her superpowers?”

“shut up, gojo, what are you doing to help?”

“not worrying about it," he answers easily, "tsumiki’s a genius, she doesn’t need your anxiety too.”

“i’m not anxious.”

he smiles at you, tilting his head.

you crack, trying not to squeeze the offset spatula in your hand. “whatever. last time she got in a fight with akio you tried to buy her a kitten. i’m not taking your criticism," you look away from him, frowning. but before he can say anything, you add. "or your advice."

“the kitten wasn’t just for her,” he says, whining. “it was an addition.”

“an addition i was going to take care of.”

“tsumiki wouldn’t have to worry about a test if she had a soft, cute, cuddly little baby kitten to cuddle with.”

you refrain a smile. “that’s redundant.”

“you changed the trajectory of her life by telling me no. she'll probably go to prison now," satoru sighs, shaking his head at you.

“yup. it’s all my fault.”

he laughs, reaching a long arm over you to try and steal some frosting again, but you grab his wrist and push it away. he frowns, but asks, “are you going to let her eat this for breakfast?”

you pause, looking back at him (he's already smirking because you've had that conversation a dozen times) then you look back at the cake you’re currently mutilating. “um…”

satoru shakes his head. “so she doesn’t even get to have any until after the test? what's the point in that?"

"the point," you say, glaring at him. "is that it's nice. i want to do something for her."

"bake a cake?"

"shut up."

he laughs again. "you're such a nerd."

"you can leave now."

"what'd she say?" satoru asks, smiling up at you, brow perked. "'i have a test tomorrow?'"

you huff, waving him away. "fine, no cake for you."

"tsumiki probably didn't even tell you," he continues, cockily. "you probably read it in an email and immediately turned on the oven."

"you are not helping."

satoru snorts at you one more time, and then he stretches as he straightens up.

your eyes dart towards him--and the sliver of skin you can see peaking out from under his shirt, very attuned muscles--and then away. you're not being caught again.

but satoru is already smirking at you as he rounds the counter, hands traveling to your waist automatically, squeezing you to him--in a very uncomfortable position, by the way.

he nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing obnoxiously.

"satoru, i'm busy," you say, trying to sneak out of his hold. unfortunately, he's way stronger than you are.

your hands have been blocked by his hold, and you set down the spatula, forced to bend to the will of this very irritating co-parent of yours.

"you're so cute," he says, cooing into your head.

"i'll pour oil in your hair."

he laughs, again. "then you'll have to take a shower with me."

you push him away, finally, scowling. he only moves back a couple of inches. "not happening."

"you realize that you're crazy, right?" satoru asks, still smiling, but a bit differently. it's less arrogant and more adoring. like he's completely star-struck, lost in the entirety of you. "this isn't news to you?"

"i'm not crazy. i'm being nice."

he continues to smile at you, ignoring your carefully pointed scowls and the harsh way to continue to frost the cake. "tsumiki will be fine. even if she fails her test, or gets sick, or..." he shakes his head, shrugging. "pulls the fire alarm so she doesn't have to take it."

"i hope you're not encouraging the children to fake an emergency."

"she's the smartest kid in that class, sweetheart, she'll do fine. and would it really matter if she didn't?"

you pause, biting your lip. no, it wouldn't matter, you should say. you should just tell him the increasingly worrisome thoughts that have been collecting in your head the past couple of weeks. you should've just helped her study more or made sure that she was feeling comfortable, or double-checked on her grades another time, or--

"well, she can have her cake as a reward," you say, instead, ignoring that last bit.

you both already know the answer anyway.

satoru is quick to wrap an arm around your shoulder, gentler this time, pulling your head to his chest with an impenetrable hold. "what's this really about?"

"nothing."

satoru's lips twitch, and it's silent for a moment, your disheartening 'nothing' ringing through the kitchen.

he's so stupid. and you hate that he knows what's wrong already, but that he's gonna make you say it. and you hate that it's sweet, in its own, very annoying way.

and then you break.

you sigh, a grumble coming from the back of your throat. "i just think i've been too worried about megumi lately. i mean school and missions and..."

satoru raises a brow at you. "okay?"

"and then there's you, too," you add, giving him a look. but it's dropped very quickly, as you look down to the floor. "do you think i've been paying enough attention to tsumiki?" you ask, softly.

tsumiki has always been good at taking care of herself, that much was obvious when you met her--when satoru told you what the two kids had been doing for months, all on their own.

but you don't want her to have to take care of herself. or feel like she should, just to make it easier on you both.

she's far too people-pleasing, far too sweet to tell either of you if you're missing something. she could have a broken arm and walk around like nothing was wrong until you finally asked.

you swallow, then continue. "you and megumi are important, but i don't want her to feel ignored just because i've been preoccupied."

"wow. i'm just a distraction to you?" satoru asks, pouting.

"you know what i mean," you whisper, shrugging.

really, you know these are just venomous thoughts. trying to hit you where it hurts.

but there's that part of you that isn't sure. if you're usually wrong, why shouldn't you be right this one time?

"you pick them both up every day, feed them, put them to bed, help with their homework..." satoru shrugs, never seeing the things that you do; stronger than you'll ever be. "how could she feel ignored?"

"well, i've been spending more time with megumi trying to figure out his shikigami. and you and i have been going over those books, and tsumiki can't be a part of any of that so she probably feels left out, and i haven't been doing anything with her anyway--"

"woah," satoru interrupts, a brow raised. "what's wrong with you?"

you glare, trying to push him away to no avail. "get out, satoru. i need to finish this."

"no, i'm serious." he holds a hand to your forehead. "are you sick? did you hit your head on something?" both of his hands grab onto your face, squeezing your cheeks together.

"stop," you say, muffled from his pinching.

"you're so..." satoru shakes his head, every word going unsaid. "she doesn't feel ignored. she couldn't, because you're very clingy."

"not as clingy as you."

satoru laughs, pinching a bit harder in retaliation. "okay, so there's two of us. at this point, tsumiki is probably looking for other families to go live with."

"she wouldn't leave megumi."

his grin widens. his eyes are thoughtful, careful. "you spend time with her every day. you probably know more about her schedule than she does. megumi is..." satoru tilts his head. "difficult, and a priority. but tsumiki knows she is too."

"i just don't want her to feel lonely. or unimportant," you whisper to him, eyes darting down to his chest.

you know that it's a natural reaction, to want more for your kids. to want to protect them from your own feelings, however different the situations might be.

when satoru tells you that tsumiki reminds him of you there's that scared, cowardly little girl who recoils in response, flinching away from that idea. you never want her to feel like you do, to be like that little girl.

but unless you can erase history, you're not sure that it's possible.

satoru's eyes soften, looking at you. he breathes out, letting go of your face finally. then he leans down so his forehead rests against yours, shaking his head. "you're the most ridiculous person i know."

your eyes are forced upon his and you finally crack a smile. "have you met yourself?"

"megumi spends more time with us because he doesn't have any friends," satoru tells you, ignoring your glare at the statement. "tsumiki's just cooler than him."

"i'm gonna let him hide your blindfolds."

satoru rolls his eyes, but he shakes his head again. he's just staring at you, so you know that he's not going to entertain your pity party any longer.

at least he knows that there's no point in arguing when you're not going to listen to reason.

you nod, looking away from him, back to the counter of destruction. "okay, i'll just finish this for her. i already started, so i might as well--"

"finish it in the morning," satoru says, finger forcing your face back to his.

"not how that works, satoru."

"put everything away, and finish in the morning," he repeats, trying ridiculously hard to sound stern--but it's almost impossible with the smile that leeches onto his face. "she can have some after school."

"but i just want--"

satoru shakes his head, shaking your jaw with his hand. "you're tired. go to bed."

you cross your arms. "since when i have i ever done anything you said?"

"since i said so," satoru answers, as a finality.

and then he lets go of your face and wraps his arms around your waist, getting a secure hold so he can pick you up, hoisting you across his shoulder before he can say anything.

it's about as gently as satoru does anything, but still surprisingly comfortable.

you squirm against him, though, ignoring that thought, making sure not to squeal at the sudden feeling of being swept off your feet. the children are asleep. "put me down,” you hiss at him.

"nope. it's bedtime."

"satoru gojo, i swear--"

he just laughs, removing you both from the kitchen and continuing down the hall.

but instead of stopping at your door and depositing you in your bed--probably finding a key to lock you in with--he continues to his own room, opening and door and spinning around so he can shut it softly.

you don't have the time to question his motives or meanings before you're already trapped in the enclosed space with him, with none of the willpower to argue with him.

your room is cold anyway.

satoru walks you both over to the bed, laying you down in his usual spot, head against the pillow (he ignores the glare you have pointed up at him).

he shrugs off the sweater he's wearing, throwing it somewhere behind him like the teenage boy he is, and then lays down.

right on top of you, of course.

his body is sprawled across yours, your shoulder digging into his chest. but his arms are on either side of you as he holds himself up so that he can continue to look at you.

he has boxed you in completely. and just his eyes on yours keep you from any viable means of escape.

you breathe in his face and frown. "i hate you."

"shhh," satoru is grinning, his face bright enough to be seen in the dark. "we're sleeping. can't hear you."

"you're heavy, satoru," you complain, pushing at his chest with an ounce of strength. it doesn't work because you don't want it to.

satoru pretends to snore, but he's still several inches above you. his face is close enough that you can see little scars, and the flecks of white in his eyes. he's looking at every part of your face, every single inch of your being.

your eyes should focus on his, but you're used to this. so, after a moment, they trail across his face, to the bridge of his nose, and down to the swell of his lips.

there's light coming in from his window, the moon flattering satoru completely (not that he needs any help).

and, right now, as he keeps himself just above you, satoru's smile is gentler than ever.

it lacks the bravado, the carelessness he usually exudes. but it's full of something else, probably something more.

and you're the only person that gets this smile. the slightly drowsy, completely sure one.

so you keep your eyes on it for a moment too long, but it's really not your fault at all.

you could just kiss him and fall asleep.

he's looking at you like that's what he wants you to do, and you know that you're probably looking at him the same way. a simple kiss and the two of you would pass out, unbothered by the aches you'll wake up to, or the body weight that could suffocate you.

but you've never made things that easy.

when satoru leans down, his entire back tensing, muscles probably straining from staring at you for this long, you sigh.

satoru pauses, moving back a centimeter, checking your eyes for something--his are bathed in temptation, basking in desire, and you're sure that yours are just an echo of all of that.

but it's the perfect opportunity.

he leans in again, but you interrupt.

"i still need to put everything away," you whisper to him, cheek twitching.

satoru groans and his head falls against your shoulder.

you tangle your hands through his hair and giggle into his ear until you can feel the goosebumps across the skin of his biceps.

"so, tsumiki, how'd your test go?"

you glare at satoru, trying not to look at how tsumiki reacts. you've decided that you don't care.

tsumiki is always happy, satoru told you this morning, she might be on drugs.

and, well, you couldn't quite disagree with him (the first part, not the second. he got a smack for that).

she nods, forking her piece of cake again. "good," she answers, through the bite that's already in her mouth.

"was it a hard one?"

"nope!"

satoru gives you a look. a very familiar 'i told you so' look.

you roll your eyes, giving megumi a piece of cake which he takes begrudgingly.

"shut up," you tell him.

next part | series masterlist

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mintmatcha · 7 months

Text

cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader

You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.

You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.

Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.

"Do you work tonight?" he asks.

You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.

"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."

The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.

Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.

It's teeth are extra sharp today.

"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."

A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.

"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."

The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.

"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."

You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.

"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.

"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"

"Tricked?" he scoffs.

"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."

Fingers squeeze at your hips.

"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."

“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.

“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."

He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."

This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.

"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."

The overhead fan whizzes.

"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"

Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.

You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.

Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."

That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.

"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.

"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."

You understand the implication.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.

"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."

Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.

Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.

But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.

"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.

"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."

He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.

"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.

The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.

"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.

"Yeah," he says, "You're right."

The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.

All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.

"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."

He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.

"Let me get you something to sleep in."

For now, it's enough.

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jjsfavgirl · 6 days

Text

NSFW alphabet • j.maybank

Enjoy this!!

Warnings: p in v sex , oral m and f receiving , shower sex , dirty talk , fingering , aftercare , corruption kink , sex toys , dom! JJ , sub! JJ , dom! Reader , Sub! Reader , eating cum , oral fixation, size kink , smoking weed , mentions of UTI , male masturbation , talk of erections? , teasing , quickies.

18+

A- after care | JJ is BIG on taking care of you after you have sex, because of how rough he is afterwards he’s a big softie. Lets you wear his shirts, even sits with you in the bathroom checking on your while u pee as to avoid a UTI, he’ll then carry you back to bed place a kiss on your forehead then cuddle you till you both fall asleep.

B- body part | as much as he loves your personality my man is an ass man at heart, always squeezing your ass while you’re bouncing up and down on his cock, giving it it firm slap whenever you are just existing in your house. He always gives you his smaller boxers just so he can see your plump bum cheeks sneak through the bottom.

C- cum | my man cums HARD. Especially if he doesn’t masturbate for a while his white liquid comes out in strings after strings. He makes many jokes about being a proclaimed “artist” after he’s covered 90% of your body in his seed. Your face, your tits, your stomach,your ass, your thighs.

D- dick | JJ is fucking hung, he always thought he was average due to all the porn he’s watched. But when you first fooled around at the château, you were on your knees in front off JJ as he was man spread on John B’s couch when he quickly fumbled to open his belt and slide down his long cargo shorts which caused his large hard length to spring out of his boxers. He loves the thought of his big dick pressing against all the walls in your cervix , doing the stomach trick just to see him tip above your belly button.

E- experience | he had slept with quite a few girls before he met you, but once he did he stopped fooling around with girls out of respect in case you one day felt the same. He has experience on the sex side of things but he lacked the emotional connection with most his previous partners so when he met you he almost cried the first time you had sex. ( my poor touch starved baby ).

F- favourite position | he doesn’t understand all the really intricate positions he just thinks fucking is fucking and you don’t need to be mid twister match in order to have an orgasm. His favourite position is simple, you laying in his bed, his hands beside your head as he plowed into you from above, looking down at your orgasm face in awe.

G- goofy | his highness depends on how silly he is during sex. If he’s high he’ll be laughing and smiling the whole way through, it’s ten times worse if you’re both high, it’s just a laughing mess. But both fully sober and not in an intoxicated state he’s more serious.

H- hair | he has never once dared to try shave down there. Out of fear he might slice off his dick and also how much you begged him not to whenever he randomly brought up the subject of even trimming his pubes.

I- intimacy | the way he shows his intimacy during the act is with his words. He’s very vocal during sex. Doing so well for me baby , you can take it I know you can , c’mon princess cum for me , you’re so beautiful , m’fuck love this pussy.

J- Jack off | he is just as feral with masturbating as he is with sex, he’s cut down on his masturbation since you started dating ( always being able to have you get rid of his erections ). However, before you were dating my man would have to run back into the château bathroom after a day of watching you play volleyball with the other pogues in your tight pink bikini as your tits bounced around and almost slipped out every time you ran over to JJ in order to high five him.

K- kink | he isn’t the most kinky person ever, but he loves the thought of completely ruining you (corruption kink I think this is ) . If you’re a good girl kook he’ll love plowing into you and reminding you what your family would think about their A+ perfect daughter getting fucked rough by a dirty pogue.

L- location | he is a mostly bed sex guy. He doesn’t want to get caught or let anyone else see you in the orgasmic state that’s only for his bright blue eyes to see.But he loves surprising you by jumping into the shower with you, lathering your tits up with soap as he blows his load into your from behind.

M- motivation | he’s mostly turned on by just you in general. Your whole being makes him hard. But his main thing is kind of weird. It’s you being nice. If you smile brightly at him my man is bricked up immediately, or if your having a conversation with the bar tender as they’re making yours and his drinks he’ll watch your face intently as you smiled and laughed with the girl across from you ( if it’s a man it’s a different story ).

O- oral | as much as he loves getting his dick sucked, his favourite thing ever is pleasing his girl. He’s always eating you out, every spare second he has his tongue is exploring your folds as his finger enters your dripping hole. His tongue will flick and suck your clit as his fingers will brush against your gooey g-spot. ( he will also know that you have a massive oral fixation and will always bight his biceps whenever he’s wearing a short sleeved shirt or no shirt at all.)

P- pace | usually his pace varies during sex depending on the type of sex , sometimes he’ll be rough and fast and quickly overstimulate you enjoying watching you squirm but the other time he’ll be slow, allowing you to fully adjust to his size and stretching your walls, he will talk you through it and place kisses all over your face every time he lent down to your face.

Q- quickie | no matter how rough and fast he is, JJ isn’t the biggest fan of quickies, of course he will fuck your quickly in your pink bikini before going on a boat trip with the pogues but he prefers sex sensual and slow.

R- can’t think of one :( the prompt I’m using says risk for R but I can’t think of any I’m sorry guys :)

S- stamina | my man is fucking energetic , never once stopping to take a break during sex or take a breath while eating your pussy. But the second you both pull back, chests heaving up and down and heavy breaths filling the room he’s out like a light, falling asleep immediately or being stuck in a fucked haze.

T- toys | JJ doesn’t own any toys for himself but enjoys using your own toys on you. He’s not into the whole BDSM thing but he’s willing to use your vibrator and dildos on you so he can watch you in overstimulated pleasure.

U- unfair | JJ fucking Maybank is the biggest tease known to man. He will tease you from the second you get on the HMS Pogue. Hand on your thigh which inches closer to the hem of your bikini, pulling you into his lap and gripping your bare hips with his ringed fingers and lightly rubbing you against his hard erection.

V- volume | he’ll always try and match your volume, if your quiet, he’s gunna be quiet. But, he will always be talking you through it . M’Doing so good f’me baby , taking me so well , this pussy was made for me.

W- wild card | a random head cannon: he always tells John B and Pope that he’s the dominant one always. Which is pro dominantly true. Sometimes . Sometimes he’ll crumble under your touch as you’re overstimulating the poor boy by grinding forwards and backwards on his long length as it hits all the right places inside you, his hair was soaked in sweat at the tips as his ringed hands cling tightly to your bare hips, moving you in all the place he wanted causing his head to tilt back in pure ecstasy.

X- X-ray | under his clothes (we’ve all seen in obx cmon my mansey is fine) he has very tough muscular arms, his abs are formed into a perfect six pack which makes you drool every time he’s on top of you thrusting into you while you whine and beg for more.

Y- yearning | luckily for JJ he was blessed with a girlfriend with just the same sex drive as him. Let me just say for the first month of your relationship all you and JJ wanted was to be with each other inside all day, every day. Let’s just say you still go at it like rabbits and nothing has changed.

Z- zzzz | after sex, JJ’s eyes will to shut but he knows that he has to take care of his princess first, cleaning up his left overs from between her thighs, placing a soothing kiss on her still sweaty forehead before carrying her to the toilet for her after-sex-piss before carrying her back to bed and tossing one of his weed smelling shirts over her head with a smile.

Enjoy!!!

#jj maybank #obx netflix #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #obx fanfiction #outer banks #obx fic #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank smut #jj x reader #summer #nswf post

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prettygirlmjmjmj · 7 months

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Feminine hygiene tips

Here are some of my favourite feminine hygiene tips. Remember that your area down there is not supposed to smell like flowers and fruit, a neutral scent is completely fine. If you are really concerned about the scent or feel that something is not completely healthy down there, I would really recommend visiting a gynaecologist, even if it's only for peace of mind! Enjoy these tips and I hope you find them helpful.

Drink more water and organic cranberry juice. Drinking more water has so many benefits overall, but cranberry juice is especially good for preventing infections down there.

Try to wear looser cotton underwear. It's much better for your health and prevents bacteria from sweat down there. It's much more breathable and overall cotton underwear is so much better for you! Plus there are so many adorable styles.

When on your period try to change your pad or tampon at least every three hours. If you struggle to remember this, try setting a reminder on your phone as it is so important.

If you wear fitted jeans or trousers, make sure they aren't super tight if possible, this can cause odour and infection.

Hair down there is completely fine and normal, don't feel ashamed for having it. If you do decide you prefer not having it, shave lightly with a clean and sharp razor to prevent cuts or damage.

Always wipe front to back (yes this advice is so basic, but it's still super important!!).

Don't wash that area with hot water, instead use warm water. If you want to wash with a soap or body wash, pick a very mild unscented one such as Dove or products formulated for babies.

Try and eat more fruit and vegetables, they are so good for your overall health.

If you are concerned about risks of infections or UTI's, try cranberry pills.

Try to shower as soon as you are done in the gym or at the very least change your underwear and wash down there.

Before you shower clean round the area with q-tips.

Make sure yours or anyone else's hands are clean and recently washed before you/they touch you down there.

Use men's razors instead of women's razors. They will allow you to shave in a way that is closer and cleaner.

If possible try to sleep without underwear or at least in loose, clean underwear.

Try to avoid scented products down there, they can throw of your PH and cause irritation.

Get regular check-ups with your gynaecologist. Your doctor can help you with your concerns, ensure everything is healthy down there and give advice to help.

Use fresh towels. Re-using towels can put you at risk for infections down there or other health issues.

If you do shave down there, do it towards the end of your shower when your pores are open, shaving will be much easier.

Be very gentle when washing down there, take your time and wash slowly.

Learn more about the four stages of your cycle (I might do a post on that later, so keep an eye out <3) so that you can better understand your health down there and how it should feel. This can also help you to get more in tune with your body and it's needs!!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this and found some of the tips useful. All my love mj.

#glow up era #that girl #glow up #self care #self development #glow up journey #self love #it girl #hyper feminine #hygeine #girlblogging #girl blogger #pinterest girl #big sister advice

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 4 months

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A/N ::: This is mostly SFW with a few little NSFW's at the end. I'll put a cut there for those of you that don't wanna see that part.

Breakup HC's

SFW mostly

When you break up with Draken, he's a hot mess for a minute. He stops eating.

Starts sleeping anywhere but his bed because it still smells like you. Mikey's house. Takashi's couch. Anywhere he can catch a minute of peace and drift off into an unconscious bliss.

He can't look anywhere without seeing your face.

Can't listen to anything without hearing your sweet, pretty voice singing along.

He stops showering for a while.

Stops braiding his hair, settling for a top knot instead. It doesn't matter, anyway, if you're not there to play with it. He might even just shave the shit off. What's the point of having hair if no one is going to run their fingers through it while you’re watching a movie together or if they play with it while you’re out on a midnight bike ride/fun run.

Doesn't eat much anymore. Nothing tastes as good if you don't make it.

Quits watching tv. He seems to always find himself flipping through channels around the same time of the day (when your favorite shows were on).

Promises that he's going to wash all of his clothes "soon" to get the last remaining fibers of your being off of them.

Can't bring himself to change his sheets just yet, despite him avoiding them like the plague.

Doesn't bitch about how sad he is to many people. Just his really close friends. Mostly Takemichi because no one he knows is more in touch with their feelings than he is. Takemichi just gets it.

(NSFW-adjacent under the cut)

When he does shower, either from being able to smell himself or the guys literally dragging him kicking and screaming into his bathroom, he tries to but fails at jerking off. Thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. Licking and sucking on him. It just makes him more sad.

One of the guys would take him out one night to a stripclub. But not anyone that is close to him like Mikey, Mitsuya. They would understand the hurt he's feeling and probably respect that. For a little while, at least.

They'd buy him a lapdance with a stripper that looks the exact opposite of you to help him forget about you. But while she's shaking her bare ass in his face and rubbing her tits, making that slutty face at him trying to get a reaction, Draken can't even feel his dick twitch.

When Draken finally musters up enough ... life force (? cuz we all know that's what it takes sometimes to get off your ass after a bad break up) to do laundry, he fuckin' finds a pair of your panties. His favorites on you. There was nothing special about them. They were white cotton with lace around the waistband and tiny pink hearts scattered all around. He just always thought they were cute. Mikey walked in and yanked them from his hand and threw them in the toilet and flushed them.

"The fuck, Mikey!" Draken said. He was so worn out that he couldn't even find the energy to yell about it.

"You'll thank me later, Kenchin. You'll thank me later."

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @ryuuc00chie

#draken headcanons #tokrev #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokrev x you #tokrev x reader #tokyo rev x reader #draken #ken ryuguji #ryuguji ken

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morallyinept · 6 months

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STRUNG UP - A Dave York Christmas One Shot

Summary: You and your husband Dave are decorating the tree for a surprise in the morning for your girls. However, you get testy with him, and Dave finds an inventive way to keep you in check.

Pairing: Dave York x Wife!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader has hair long enough to pull.)

Word Count: 3.5K

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/triggers - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks)/consensual restraint/husband & wife dynamics/very mild Daddy kink/Dave comes with his own warning.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Love me some angry Dave. Oof. 🥵

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤

“Are you really going to moan all the way through this, baby?”

His tone is clipped as he stares at you through a mask of stony lines on his smoothly shaved face.

The knot of Christmas lights inside his hands are wriggly; bulging like a serpent trying to coil itself around his arm, and if that isn’t enough to test his patience working through this mess, he now has to endure your sniping and muttering away under your breath at him too.

Like you have been, all day.

It’s the Holly Jolly time of year when all he wants to do is utterly stab someone in the neck. Dave’s fingers twitch at the mere thought of it.

The most wonderful time of the year where predicted arguments always flare up over what gifts to get the girls, how many gifts to buy the girls.

Fisticuffs ensue about the gift wrap not being cut in a neat, straight line and the bow doesn’t match.

‘Shall we get a turkey or a salmon this year, Dave?’

‘I don’t like salmon.’

'Since when?'

'For the last 43 years of my life.'

'Oh. Then we’ll get a turkey.’

'Baby. The turkey is too big for the oven.'

‘Then we’ll get a small one.’

'But you always cook it until it’s dry...’

The time of year when all Dave really wants to do is get absolutely shitfaced to avoid making small talk with your father, and only have to stress over whether or not he’s going to make it to the bathroom to puke after one to many chasers, or whether it will just land over his dress shoes instead in a brown, lumpy puddle.

But no. He has to endure your temper tantrums and sulks, and watch as you shit over everything festive, and in return his Christmas mood is certainly darkening.

You’ve both planned to completely transform the lounge into a Christmas wonderland for the girls whilst they're asleep upstairs, and it isn’t exactly going according to plan.

First, Dave smacked the back of his head going up into the attic for the tree this afternoon and it still smarts now.

And you’ve done nothing but whinge all day about Amazon sending Molly’s stocking with her name spelt wrong on the stitching.

‘Dolly? We have a Dolly York now? Sounds like what you'd name a dog. Dolly.'

‘Baby, we have plenty of time to order another one.’

'That’s not the point, Dave. You expect some certain care when ordering a personalised gift. I’ve a good mind to call them and complain.’

'You already are…’

You throw a glare at him that leaves a black eye, and go back to pulling tinsel out of the box you’ve made him lug down from the attic, slighlty concussed.

The tree isn’t even fully put together yet he acknowledges; it’s still in pieces around the floor from where you had dragged it out of the box, and that grates on him also.

“You haven’t put it up yet, so why are you bothering with the decorations already?” Dave remarks sourly.

You glance briefly at the tree pieces as if they’ve offended you and carry on rummaging around inside the box.

“The star is missing.” You moan absentmindedly.

“No, it isn’t.”

“It’s not in the box here.”

“It has to be. It’s where I threw all that shit last year.” Dave sighs; his thumbs loop through the sting of lights as he pulls some out of the twisted chunk of wire and bulbs.

“Oh yeah? Then where is it, smartass?” You put to him with a scowl.

Dave rolls his eyes and stands, throwing the puzzle of lights to the floor and stomps over to the box.

“You know, if I find this star, I’m going to shove it up your ass!” He warns you with a frowny snarl. You sense he means it as well.

“I’m going shove it up your ass...” You mock, impersonating his voice.

He mutters obscenely to himself, grinding his teeth and swooping his large hands inside the box.

He tosses tinsel and baubles around like the choppy seas, and begins to panic inwardly when he can’t see any trace of it. It isn’t in there.

Shit.

“Told you,” you say, proudly.

Dave looks about the room, which resembles a band of elves that have thrown up glitter and stardust all around it, whilst you’re still throwing shade up in his face.

“Well, you look mighty fucking stupid now, baby. It’s there, in the fucking tinsel pile.” Dave says, reaching for it.

He then shoves it into your hand and snarls at you darkly.

He goes back to detangling the lights and you’re silent for a little while as you finally put the tree together.

You step back to look at it when it’s finally standing.

“It’s a little on the slant.” Dave remarks.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes. It is.”

“You need glasses.” You say, with a pout.

“I’m telling you, it’s wonky. If you want a wonky tree, then fine.” He huffs out, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ah fuck!” You step backwards - to examine the tree’s vertical straightness for yourself - and crush a wayward, escaped bauble with your foot.

“Careful, you’ll cut yourself!” Dave mutters as you kick away the broken pieces.

He’s managed to get a string of the lights spread out in front of him that are tangle-free at long last.

“Too late,” you huff, and plonk yourself down on the floor, pulling off your sock and examining the underside of your sole.

He comes up to you and has a look for himself, stroking the curve of your foot with his thick fingers when he informs you it’s just a light graze.

He tickles your arch gently and you throw another glare at him.

“Don’t.” You warn, knocking his hand away.

“You’re so fucking pissy today,” Dave says to you pouting; that bottom lip of his inflated and shiny as he mocks you with an unsympathetic growl.

You snatch your foot away from him and stand up with a deep set frown.

“Is it your time of the month or something?” Dave questions, with knitted eyebrows.

“Fuck you, asshole.” You snip back to him.

Dave sighs out and shakes his head. A petulant argument is not what he wants to endure anymore. He’s had enough of your crap. To Hell with you and your fucking wonky-ass tree.

“Fuck this shit; you can decorate the tree your damn self.” He decides that he isn’t going to entertain your drama anymore. Your moaning and grumbling all day has grated away on his last nerve.

“Yeah, well I don’t need your help anyway!” You yell after him.

“Keep it down, you’ll wake the girls up.” He seethes. He disappears out of the lounge like a hurricane.

You sigh out in a massive huff and pick up the string of Christmas lights and plug them into the wall to test the bulbs aren’t blown.

How the hell do Christmas lights get tangled when they’ve been sitting in a box all year, answer me that? I mean, you roll them up carefully and neatly and then what, do they just move on their own volition or something the minute your damned back is turned? Quick, she’s not looking - tangle-tangle... Fuck!

You begin unwinding and weaving them whilst grinding on your teeth as you try in vain to separate them, but seemingly knotting them up the further you go, and undoing all of Dave’s work with them so far.

Meanwhile, Dave can hear you cursing away to yourself in the kitchen as he makes himself a strong coffee, feeling it best to stay out of your way or he’ll hang you with some tinsel if you carry on like this.

He reaches into the cupboard for a mug, sighing.

He can feel how wrangled and wrought his shoulders are, craning his neck from side to side as it cracks, realising that your shitty mood has now spread and infected him, and that shit isn’t going to fly.

“Oh, Dave, you’ve tangled them up even worse than they were!”

He hears you berating him from the lounge, and he slams down his coffee mug on the counter top so hard, the bottom of it chips.

He forgets about the coffee maker, grinding his teeth when you huff out - a little louder and with added dramatics - from inside the lounge.

He marches straight in there, his mouth a hard, thin line and makes a beeline right for the lights. He tears them from your hands so fast they whip around his legs with the intense speed.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” You hiss at him, all snarls and scrunched up face.

He wraps the twinkling light string around his palm a few times as he stares down at you with hard, dark eyes.

"Get up." He growls.

"No."

Dave then yanks you up onto your feet as you yelp. “Turn around.” He instructs with a no-nonsense attitude.

You shake your head and fold your arms in defiance.

“I said, turn a-fucking-round!” He hisses at you and pushes you against the sofa, shunting you forward so you’re bent over the arm of it.

Your arms go to your face to stop your fall, but he wrenches one back and you get a face full of cushion anyway.

“Dave, what the-”

You feel him wrap the light string around your wrist before he reaches for your other, quickly and skillfully, as you try to resist.

He snatches it back, his fingers tight around you. You feel him crush you against the couch with his pelvis, holding you in place, and can equally feel how hard he is against your behind.

Dave pulls back your other arm and wraps the lights around, lashing your wrists together with them tightly.

“Untie me!” You muffle at him. “I’m fucking serious, Dave!”

You feel his hand slide over your mouth, squeezing your cheeks as you twist.

“I am sick to death of your fucking whining and moaning today, baby.” Dave says ignoring you, and you can tell he’s pissed off - majorly pissed off.

His usual jaunty, laid back mood was shit all over by your petulant ranting and sulking over something or other that he has no idea about, and frankly doesn’t care how or why it's bloomed in the first place.

Perhaps you’d just woken up that way, perhaps you’re PMSing like a bitch - hell, maybe he's even done something to fuck you off - it doesn’t matter.

It just needs to stop and it needs to stop now.

And he knows a way to get it out of your system.

He unbuckles his belt, you can hear the metallic chink of it, and he pulls down your leggings and panties revealing your ass and pussy sticking up at him.

Despite your protests, he can see how slick and shiny you are as it seeps from your lips. He zones in on your weeping cunt, like looking through the periscope of his MK14, and locks onto his target.

“Dave,” you whine.

"Dave," he impersonates. He spreads your cheeks to get a better look. Your pussy clenches, your slick glistens at him.

You feel him run the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in you.

"Dave, I... mmm, please..."

“Shut the fuck up.” He snaps to you and then shoves his cock deep inside you without any warning whatsoever.

“OH!” You cry out as he shunts, jolting your whole body forward further over the couch as he thrusts inside.

He fills you wholly; your cunt sucking him him as he grunts when he breaks through and bottoms out instantly. Your gasp is ragged, stolen from your throat.

You’re so wet, dripping; he knew you would be despite the angry front you'd presented to him - the moment he'd asserted his dominance over you, you were utterly frothing - you always were when Daddy ran the show.

“Oh fuck!” You groan out, as he snaps his hips into you in a brutal pace.

He holds onto the lights wrapped around your wrists, feeling the warmth ebb from them inside his palm. They make little, glowy silhouettes on your butt cheeks in brightly different colours as he ploughs into your sopping pussy.

“Ah yes!” You mewl as he fucks you hard.

"There we go," Dave grunts.

Your slick is more frothy around his cock each time he pulls out, seeing it shiny and bubbling around his shaft. Squelching over him, and it's a pleasant sensation that he can watch and enjoy all day.

He growls out in satisfaction at it.

An aggressive ballet ensues of him pulling you about as he drives himself deeper into you; your hands tied behind your back with those colourful lights glittering in blues, reds and oranges as he fucks you hard in the lounge amongst the clutter of Christmas baubles and streams of tinsel.

An explosion of festive carnage around you both as he goes to town on that pussy, fucking the bad mood, that has lingered over your head like a storm cloud all day, right out of you.

You can only stand there, bent over, and take it from your husband.

“Oh shit, Dave! Shit!” You pant out as your body shudders; hair sticking to your face, and you can feel it tangling inside your mouth as you whine out.

Your face is pushed further into the sofa cushions as he grunts and growls behind you moving at warp speed, muscular thighs slapping agaisnt your ass cheeks like someone in the room is clapping.

“What, nothing to say now, hmm?” Dave hisses in your ear, bending over you as his cock drives deeper inside your wet, fleshy lips.

"You've been running your mouth all day and now you're suddenly speechless, baby?"

He sweeps the hair out of your face, his mouth running the length of your jaw and he tugs at your ear lobe with his teeth. His breath is bouncing in the back of his throat as he puffs like he’s going for his morning run with each thrust he hammers into you.

You gasp out; breath and voice literally taken away by him ploughing so deeply into your pussy.

God, you’re always so tight around his cock, and the feeling of it blows his mind each time he enters you. It always feels so new and exciting, no matter how many times you’ve fucked since you’d got together all those years ago.

Even pushing out two of his kids hadn’t loosened you up that much, clearly you do your kegels. But taking you like this - punishing you with his cock - is the way to go about it today. No time for Mr Nice Guy.

“Love this tight pussy squeezing around my cock, baby,” he sighs out, standing back upright.

He grips a hold of your arms in the Christmas lights and pulls against them as he shunts into you.

He keeps you bent over and unable to move or repel against him; you’re just simply stuck there being fucked by him, exactly how he wants.

It’s a rough, hard fucking and all you can do is take it as you’re trussed up with the lights, face smooshed into the couch cushions whilst he does it and trying not to suffocate.

Teeth biting into your tongue to mute your whines and moans, but they still flow out of you anyway.

Dave wrenches you backwards so you’re standing upright a little, and steps with you so he can bend you over in the middle of the lounge without anything to support you now, just the lights keeping you anchored in his grip.

His hand slides up your front and grips around your throat, pushing your head up to him as he fucks you from behind.

"That's it, baby. Take my fucking cock."

Your eyes try to find him, darting into the back of your head as his fingers squeeze tightly around your jaw.

“Aaaahhh...” You cry out as he tunnels in deeper, pulling you back onto his dick and the hard, hammering sound of him inside you echoes around the room.

When he’s had enough of you like that, he lets you go, stretching out your back whilst he pulls his slacks off fully.

You clock him tugging off his sweater with a massive, angry and swollen boner protruding out of his pelvis.

Holy shit…

“Lay down on the floor. Put your arms above your head.” Dave instructs in an agitated growl and you comply, albeit with a brewing grin.

“Good, keep them there like that.” He warns and he slides your leggings off your legs completely.

“Shall I call you Daddy as well?” You tease, smirking at him whilst he glares at you.

Oh, he’s so hot when he’s mad...

“Don’t fucking push it,” Dave simply says as he slams back into you without warning again and you gasp; a loud, guttural moan emanating from the pits of your stomach.

“But then, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh fuck!” You wail out, your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head, whites on show like you’ve been possessed as he works those hips back and forth like a machine gun.

“Yeah, who’s your fucking Daddy now, hmm?” Dave simply remarks with a slick grin as he jolts into you hard. “You want Daddy to fuck you some more?” He says in a condescending voice.

“Mmm, Dave! God yes...” You groan.

“Maybe this will shut you up now, hmm? All you needed was a good fucking, baby.”

“Yes... yes!”

“Maybe I should just leave you like this all Christmas... Hang you up on the tree!” He roars as he fucks you faster and like he’s trying to climb inside your body.

“Oh God!” You wail around him as your pussy starts leaking all over his cock again.

“Look at me when I make you come!” He demands, pulling your jaw towards him with his fingers and thumb clamping around it and forcing you to face him.

He feels you contract and jerk, your thighs shake and your neck cranes as your whole body tenses up before eventually letting go, and you soon flop under him like jelly, panting.

“Dave!” You rumble, your body shaking and all the tension that had surmounted all morning explodes out of you as the wrangled tension uncoils itself and you let it all go fully. “Fuuuccckkk!”

"That's it, baby. Like that. Come all over Daddy's cock..."

He fucks you exactly how it should be done; hard, and without any relenting or mercy. This man, your husband, can make your pussy sing, make it trib and hold the high notes without taking a beat.

“Oh, oh...”

“This is what happens when you're a moany bitch, baby.” He pants into your face, sweat forming in the line of his hair on his forehead.

“By that logic, I shall never stop moaning...” You chime out, hair splayed all over the floor and tangled in tinsel as you tense and shake.

Chuckling evilly, he rides you through your orgasm, only pulling out of your twitching pussy when he’s ready to shoot his load.

And he knows exactly where that’s going to go.

“Open your fucking whiny-ass mouth.” Dave instructs as he begins pumping himself, shuffling up your body on his knees either side of you on the carpet until he’s almost sat on your chest.

His cock is above your face as he pumps hard and fast. The slick sound of your wetness making it slap inside his palm.

You open up, tongue hanging out, and waiting for him to fill it.

He pumps out and grips a hold on his thigh, angling his cock towards your mouth as he comes, and it splashes across your lips and tongue where you swallow down what flows into your mouth.

“Fuck!” Dave grits as he watches you take it all, all of that glossy, thick cream and then lick the reddened tip of his cock, sucking on the end of it gently to get to the last of it.

He feels the tip of your tongue furrow into the slit of him and it makes him shudder.

“Mmm...” You groan, licking your lips and smirking up at him; your hands still trussed up in the lights above your head on the floor, and some of his come splashed across your cheeks.

Dave stands up, fully naked as the day he was made, except for his reindeer Christmas socks, as you still lay there on the floor, somewhat paralysed and utterly blissed out.

“Can you untie me before I get third degree burns from these lights?” You ask, sitting upright slowly.

Your hair looks like you've already been electrocuted - it's all over the place.

Dave pulls his sweater over his head and glances down at you somewhat indifferently. “Depends, are you going quit your whining now?” He asks you as he reaches for his slacks.

You nod and smile thinly at him. “I’ll try.”

He pads over and kneels down, running his thumb across your cheek, scooping his load onto it and holding it out for you. You suck it clean and you're convinced you can hear a tiny groan at the back of his throat.

Weaving the light string from around your wrists, he’s dismayed to find it tangled again in knots.

“For fuck’s sake...” He mutters as he plonks his butt on the floor and begins the arduous task of detangling them again.

You stand up once the feeling returns to your legs, and dress. You then retreat into the kitchen.

You come back in a few minutes later with a steaming hot coffee for him, and place it beside him on the floor.

“Peace offering.” You say, stepping over his long legs.

“Thank you, darling.” Dave mutters.

“See, I’m not a complete bitch after all,” you smirk.

“We’ll see how the next hour or so goes, shall we?” Dave remarks looking up at you with the bundle of glowy lights in his palms.

“Maybe I’ll do it on purpose, you know so Daddy can tie me up and punish me again...” you peep, grinning.

You hear Dave snicker through a snort, and look down at him to see his piercing, dark eyes stare you out over the rim of his coffee cup.

You reach up and put the star on top of the slightly askew Christmas tree proudly. “Perfect.”

“It’s still wonky.” He replies.

"Don't start." You scold, reaching for the tinsel.

Dave doesn’t say anything else about it when you pick up a bauble and simply toss it at his head.

He notes that bold move down mentally. Daddy will make you pay for that later.

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #dave york x reader #pedro pascal characters #dave york the equalizer 2 #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york x female reader #dave york x wife!reader #christmas stories #jett's writing

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genderkoolaid · 10 months

Note

It's honestly really validating to read your thoughts on butch identity. I kept myself from fully accepting I might be a gay trans man for a long time because being a butch woman was so integral to my identity (I wept after finishing Stone Butch Blues. It was like being seen for the first time) and I hated that it felt like there was no way I could be both. So I was sort of performing trans man comphet and trying to convince myself I liked women just so I wouldn't lose that word. There's so much gender nuance to being butch that I feel like gets lost when we only focus on the sexuality aspect of it.

"There's so much gender nuance to being butch that I feel like gets lost when we only focus on the sexuality aspect of it." Yes!!!!!!

I came out very young (elementary school) as a lesbian, and cut my long hair to a pixie in the same year. And then shortly after began realizing was I was trans as well. I spent essentially my entire life being visibly queer and visibly queer-masculine a lot of the time. And this affected so much, because I latched onto "butch" extremely young and that became my model for my gender. I never shaved largely because, due to reading about butches, I felt that it was part of my path, even though I also knew it distanced me from others. My sense of masculinity and masculine fashion has always been deeply butch, regardless of my gender. Its such a deep and integral part of me and has been my whole life. I truly feel that I can't not be butch. I don't relate to a lot of "female socialization" both due to being autistic and being visibly queer; I always knew that, while being categorized as "girl," I was also never going to be a "real girl," and everyone knew that. Becoming a butch adult felt more natural than puberty.

Which is why its so annoying that people center butchness on sexuality, and specifically romantic-sexual attraction to femmes!!!! Because while I have, in fact, dated femmes (arguably I dated too many cis femme women who I felt I had to walk on ice around to avoid scaring them with my butch gender), like I said, my butchness is a natural part of me. Being queer is a part of being butch, but the way we talk about butchness makes me feel like people can only view it existing in relation to romance (and femmes). And obviously because of radfeminism, trans men & mascs' unique relationships with butchness have been largely ignored in any way besides "I used to be butch, but now I'm a Normal Straight Man!" & also the general erasure of transmasculinity in lesbian history. Lesbian spaces have always been a haven for trans people, because for a long time in the West, your options were generally "move to a new town and go completely stealth for as long as possible" or "find your local lesbians and be a dyke within a community." There's a reason "butch" has always held so much gender nuance. Radclyffe Hall, who wrote the famous lesbian book The Well of Loneliness, has been argued to have been transmasculine- but the idea that butches may truly call into question the gender binary causes too much anxiety, so we have to constantly re-affirm that butches are above all else women. I'm a firm believer that butch4butch relationships have long been a way for gay trans men to indulge their desire for men within the context of lesbian identity (because all the trans guys are fucking each other and always have been).

Anyways. yeah. let butches exist beyond our sexuality. Understand that "butch" carries so much color and cannot be reduced down to a simple binary concept.

(Also anon, if you haven't, you should read this article about transmasculine comphet wrt gayness).

#please read The Transgender Craze Seducing Our [Sons] btw its so good #m.#ask box

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slushycoookie · 3 months

Text

Shaving His Hair

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader

Word Count: 776

Content: Fluff, lice, Miguel's curls are gone and he's bald! (No not really)

Summary: After an unexpected lice outbreak, you have to cut Miguel’s hair.

A/N: Miguel when his hair is shaved is hot as hell, I don't care what anyone says. Also this one is kinda connected to the washing his hair post I did so if you wanted to read that too, here.

There was a lice outbreak in HQ.

You would think a bunch of superheroes could combat a bunch of little bugs but no.

Miguel ordered anyone who had said lice to get it taken care of in their dimension. Or go to the infirmary for treatment. The leader of Spider Society thought he was safe. Trying to avoid anyone who had potential contact with someone with lice. He was wrong. That’s why you two were in the bathroom. His head was in his hands as he sat on the toilet while you laid out the required tools. All set up like you were about to conduct surgery.

“This was your idea.” You reminded him while putting on rubber gloves. “The doctor said we could try the treatment and see what happens. You don't have to cut it.”

Miguel’s head shook, not wanting to look at what was about to happen. “The doctor said my case was more serious. It's best to cut it all off.” You were about to argue some more. Try to get him to see reason. But he stared at you with large eyes, knowing what he had to do despite not liking the decision. “It's my hair.”

He was right.

You wanted to support him, reassure him you were always going to be on his side. So you got the clippers ready. You weren't a professional but you knew how to cut hair. You surfed the internet to look up tips to make sure it wasn't uneven. Miguel wanted to get everything over with but you were determined to make his hair look nice.

The buzz from the clipper filled the bathroom. You started from the front, placing his head back to get a good view. The device hovered over his hairline as you wanted to give him one more chance.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes.” Miguel huffed, “I'm not changing my mind.”

“Alright, alright. Just checking.”

You ran the blade towards you, chunks of hair falling off and hitting the ground. Bye bye curls. Your eyes couldn't help but go wide at the fact you could see his head. Now you were picturing how he would look shaved. With that sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Miguel was going to be attractive regardless of his hairstyle.

“Any day now…”

You stuck your tongue out at him before continuing. Dragging the clipper down his head. Locks cascading down on his covered shoulders. You did your best to get all the extra hair you could, making sure he didn't look a hot mess.

Once you were done, it was time to wash it. You suggested doing it at the kitchen sink as you didn't feel like going in the shower.

“Really? We're doing this in the kitchen?” He asked.

“Don’t worry. I already cleaned it.” You pointed down to get him to bend over. Thank goodness for stools as you stood on it to get a good angle. The shampoo for lice had a minty scent. Almost medicinal when you rubbed your fingers along his scalp. The scent was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes. You hoped your partner wasn't having a worse time due to his enhanced senses.

“How you doing?”

Miguel grunted and you couldn't help but snort. “I'm fine.”

“At least one of us is.” You blinked repeatedly to get yourself together before rinsing him off. As much as you weren't a fan of the shampoo, you wanted to be thorough. Much to yourself and apparently his chagrin, you did another wash. It was better the second time around, your eyes getting itself together this time. There weren't any complaints from Miguel either.

With the lice vanquished and the prevention solution working, you dried him off with a towel. You grabbed the mirror from the bathroom and held it up to his face to see what you did. Miguel examined himself. Head tilting from side to side while trying to see how he looked.

“My head…it's so…square looking.”

You snickered, “It's a very handsome square look.”

Miguel playfully glared at you, “So you agree? That I'm square?”

“When you wear those glasses, yeah.” He pulled you in for a hug, not tolerating your teasing. “Okay, okay! I'm joking, you actually look pretty handsome.”

He held up the mirror once more. Seeing yourself and him in the reflection. “I do?”

“Yes. My handsome baby.” You peppered his face with kisses. The medicinal scent from the shampoo still lingering. “Oh by the way, you should find the person who started that outbreak. So this doesn't happen again.”

Miguel pursed his lips, having the same thought. “Yeah, good idea.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #slushycoookie writes

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col-islander43 · 11 months

Text

Haircut

Mat Barzal x reader

Warnings: none

Word count: {1,033}

"No, you're not." was your immediate response after Mat walked into your shared bedroom, claiming he was getting a haircut.

He stopped in his tracks, his brows drew together, and a pout formed on his lips as he stared at you in confusion. Trying to keep it together, you asked "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he continued walking toward the bathroom "Nothing. My mom said the same thing when I told her I was getting my hair cut. It's just a bit creepy."

Joining him in the bathroom, you sat on the counter as he got out everything he needed to shave, he liked doing it the traditional way. There wasn't much to shave, just a bit of stubble, but he got used to having his face clean-shaven. So against your wishes, he was going to shave, you loved his facial hair and you were open about it.

"How about you sleep on it and make a decison tomorrow?" you bit your lip to suppress your smile when he gave you the same look from before as he applied shaving cream to his face.

"Babe, I already decided. I'm getting my hair cut on Friday I just have to make the appointment." Stepping in between your legs he handed you the razor, knowing you loved helping him shave even if you loved his facial hair more.

You had until Friday to convince him to not cut his hair since today was Tuesday "It's not fair, you know? You shave your beard, and you'll cut your hair which by the way didn't grow that much, what am I supposed to look forward too?" the teasing tone lacing your voice seemed to escape your boyfriend as he stared at you with his mouth wide open.

"You did not just say that!" his disbelieving tone and facial expression made laughter burst out of your mouth, hiding your face in his chest, careful to avoid the shaving cream.

You placed a couple of pecks on his exposed collarbone before looking up at him again "I'm kidding, love. I find it unfair because when I cut my hair you throw a fit for days."

"That's diff-" he cut off his sentence when you leveled him with a look that spoke for you. "Ok. I can't promise that my decison will change, but I'll sleep on it, only because you asked. Now give me a kiss, I'm getting touch starved."

You were about to protest, but before you could get the words out he had given you a peck on the lips which resulted in shaving cream covering small parts of your face.

---------

Laying on your side you watched the sun shining through the blinds, gently caressing Mat's face and highlighting all his features that you loved. Like every morning, you softly traced all his features with your thumb, the other hand raking through his hair, careful not to wake him up.

"I think you've memorized my whole face, you probably already had it memorized the first week you stayed over." His gruff morning voice startled you even if he was whispering.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." You slowly retracted your hands, placing them on his chest but Mat wasn't pleased with that decision. He pulled you closer, shaking his head as he placed your hands in their previous positions.

"You didn't wake me, but I'll get upset if you stop all the caressing. I'm feeling loved." The boyish grin that took over his face told you he was teasing you, but you continued your caressing because you liked doing it.

"You are loved. I love you. And I'll tell you every chance I get. Also, if you really want to get a haircut I'll suck it up and accept it, but your mom said she'll disown you." your voice was slightly above a whisper as he opened his eyes, confusion taking over his features.

"I love you too, but when did you talk to my mom?"

You chuckled when his lips formed into a pout, pecking his lips you caressed his brow "Yesterday. After you called her and went to the store to buy the cookies you claim are for me but eat your weight in. She sounded desperate and I can't blame her."

His jaw dropped as he softly pinched your waist "What's that supposed to mean?! Also they are good cookies."

You shrugged your shoulders trying to come up with a good answer "Baby, you're pretty, you're gorgeous, you're handsome just the way you are. You don't need a haircut."

He kissed your forehead as a way of thanking you before quickly pulling back "Hey! Don't avoid the question."

"I'm not avoiding the question." You definitely were "You don't need a haircut, it's a decent length." you gently pulled a couple of strands before pecking his lips "Especially after what happened last time." you murmured under your breath.

"What did you say? Speak up, sweetheart." He said the words in a low voice, the smirk on his face revealing he heard you loud and clear.

"Nothing." You looked down avoiding his gaze, but that didn't last long because he placed his finger under your chin lifting your gaze. He shook his head telling you he wasn't going to let this go.

"Speak up, baby."

His words made you squirm slightly, he knew exactly what he was doing "I said, especially after what happened last time. We're both a bit scared, babe. You said you were going to trim the ends and then you came back bald."

He burst out laughing, rolling onto his back and dragging you with him so you could lay on his chest "I wasn't bald."

You hid your face in the crook of his neck as your face slightly reddened "There's a difference between trimming the ends and getting a buzz cut. If you really want to get a hair cut I can trim your ends."

He pulled away slightly, his brows drawn together "You can do that? Why don't I know this?"

"I can trim ends I have done it before. And you never asked."

"We have been together for 2 years, how can I not know that?"

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

Hi, Hi. School finished a couple of weeks ago so I'll try and post more.

Feedback is appreciated, hope you guys enjoyed!

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #new york islanders imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #frankie writes...

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sketchy-rosewitch · 11 months

Text

Let’s Be Somethin’ Else: Bo Sinclair x f!reader

Warnings: abusive parents, crying, sobbing, mental and physical abuse, 3 year age gap, (Bo is 21, you’re 18.), smoking, reader has long hair then short hair. if I missed anything tell me

A/N: Y’all I started this shit over a month or two ago. Finally finished it. Also haven’t written for Bo in a minute but yeah :)

“Bo…” You croak into the phone, your hands shake as you continue to mess with your tar covered hair.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds panicked, you don’t mean to freak him out but you don’t know who else to call or talk to.

“Th-they put tar in my… my HAIR! Please come over, I’m begging you. Bo Please!” You sob into the receiver.

“Shh, shh, okay. I’m coming over. Just give me a minute.”

You can’t help but nod as if Bo is already in front of out then put the phone back on the stand and sink to the ground touching where they put it. You tried everything and nothing worked. Your family was gone before you even got up. Your pillow was ruined and so was your hair.

Bo busts into the house what feels like moments later and comes over to you quickly. Looking at your long sticky hair he frowns. Your breath shakes. He pulls you up and you go into the upstairs bathroom.

“They ruined it. My parents ruined my hair. They told me to stop talkin’ to you and I told them I wouldn’t cause you mean too much to me and now my hair is fucked!” You blubber, he takes your face and shushes you lightly, wiping your tears away. “You have to cut it Bo, I know I-I can’t cause, I’ll fuck it up more!”

You body moves away from him and you dig through the bathroom drawers trying to find the shears your mom uses to cut your siblings hair.

You find them and hand them to Bo then face towards the mirror. You watch carefully as Bo hesitates and let’s put a deep breath before takes a chunk of hair and chops it off. A sob escapes your mouth and Bo shushes you gently, he takes more and more hair off until all of the tar covered hair is in a small pile.

His fingers run through the short hair. “I ain’t good at styling it but I’m gonna try. Do you have a razor?”

You nod and go to the same drawer you got the shears from, you take out the clippers and he plugs it in, turning it on.

“I do Lester’s hair, and mine but you can see it ain’t that good.” Bo laughs gently and runs his hands through his curly hair. You shake your head smiling at him always having a way to make you feel better. Tears stain your cheeks but you try and brush them away.

“No, no it’s beautiful Bo. I love your hair.” You whisper, your fingers run through it before quickly pulling away out of shyness. You’d had a crush on Bo for the longest time. Honestly you’d have to pat yourself on the back for hiding it so well around him. One wrong move could ruin the friendship between you two.

You turn around and face the mirror again. Bo turns the clippers on with the longest shield your dad had and shaves parts of your hair to get it more even. He goes over your ears and chuckles lightly when you shiver. He turns the razor off and wipes the remaining hair off your shoulders. His icey blue eyes look at you through the mirror but you look down trying to avoid getting too flustered.

“You look beautiful.” He mumbles. You feel his fingertips graze your skin and your breath hitches.

“Thank you Bo. You’re a really good friend.”

His hand quickly movies away as if he burnt it against your skin. “Of course.”

You look at the hair on the floor. “Should probably get this cleaned.”

You leave Bo in the bathroom to get the broom and dustpan.

He sighs and puts away the scissors and razor. He then pulls out the bathroom trash can and you come back with the broom and dustpan. He takes the broom from you and you crouch down with the pan.

Bo sweeps up the hair and you tap it into the trash. You take the broom from him and walk back downstairs, he follows you.

“Do you want somethin’ to eat? I can make you somethin’.”

“No, I’m good.”

You nod your head. “Okay, did you wanna do somethin’ then? I mean you’re free to leave whenever I don’t wanna keep you. Sorry for having you come over I-“

“Let’s go to the back.” Bo cuts you off, he takes the lead and grabs your hand taking you to the tire swing that hangs from the large tree in your backyard. You sit opposite of him and hold your feet up while he kicks you two off.

For just a second you feel nine years old again. You and Bo used to run and hide in your backyard when the other kids became too much for one of you. Then you’d spend your time playing back there until your mom or dad yelled at Bo to get away from you.

God you hate how they hate Bo. Bo is everything to you. He’s an amazing friend even if he was troubled. One second he could be charismatic and charming, wooing any girl he pleases, the next, hot-headed, screaming and throwing a fist into someone’s face.

Sometimes he got pissed at you, he never touched you during these fits of rage though. Afterwards he wouldn’t verbally apologize but he’d take your hand and squeeze it a few times in apology. Then he’d look at you and you’d look at him and smile and the conversation would shift.

He told you one night when he was drunk that it wasn’t your fault, you just do something to him and he doesn’t know what it is, it hurts and it pisses him off.

You never told him it was probably love. Why would you? That’s hopeful thinking first of all and second of all he’ll shake it off and your fantasy of being with him will die.

“I think you should come live with us.”

You shake out of your daydream and look at Bo like he’s crazy.

“What?!” You almost laugh, his face scrunches and reddens, specifically his ears and nose.

“I said, I think you should move in with us. I don’ like you stayin’ here. ‘Specially since you’re grown now. Deserve to be respected. You already know Vincent and Lester respect you. I do too.”

You shake your head. “My dad will come with a shotgun to your house and shoot you right… there.” You say, extending your index finger to between his brows. “We wouldn’t want that Bo.”

“I’d shoot him first and you know it.”

You snort and shrug your shoulders. “Still, it’s not that easy ya know. I’m scared of them. I bet they’d do somethin’ so much worse than shootin’ you in the head or puttin’ tar in my hair.”

Bo purses his lips, then you hear the phone ring from inside the house. You almost stumble while getting up and fast walk to the phone in the kitchen to see who it is.

“What took you so long?” Your mother’s voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard when you pick up.

“I’m sorry, I was-“

“Don’t make excuses. I don’t wanna hear it. Your siblings, daddy, and I are stayin’ at your grandma’s for the weekend. Don’t fuck up the house or you’ll get worse than that damn tar in your hair.”

“Yes ma’am.” You mumble, the phone hangs up, anxiety piercing through your hands like a thousand needles. Bo is standing at the entrance of the back door. You turn and smile slightly.

“Do you wanna sleep over? Parents said they’re at my grandparents for the weekend.”

Bo nods his head, “Course I do.”

Somehow the day got caught up with you two as you went on a walk to the creek and played down in the water together, skipping stones, splashing and diving into the water took up most of the day.

The sun sets as you and Bo head back up to your house. His hand is holding yours, this makes your chest tighten and face heat up.

He’s not staring at you, but you’re staring at the side of his face. There’s almost no emotion, his lips are at a frown and eyes are focused on the pathway ahead.

Crickets chirp and a slight breeze comes through the trees.

You focus so roughly on Bo and the silence between you two that you don’t notice the rock Bo so clearly avoids, your wet shoe hits it and you fall bringing your crush down with you.

“Gahd damnit!” Bo shouts, you flinch.

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry I should’ve- I should’ve watched where I was goin’ I’m sorry!” Your body trembles and you sniffle, trying so hard to hold in your tears. Bo looks at you.

“Ah shit, I’m sorry baby- just shocked me s’all. Don’t cry, please it ain’t your fault.”

Bo wipes the dirt off his jeans and helps you up.

He takes his flannel and wipes your hands off gently, you still shake and he looks at you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya. C’mere.”

You fall into his arms and he kisses your head. “I’ll protect ya. I always will don’t ever think I won’t. I’ll never hurt you.”

“Okay- okay. I’m so sorry. Should’ve watched myself.” You whisper, he shakes his head and you two let go and finish your walk back to your house in a comfortable silence. Bo lightly caressing your hand.

Bo pulls out a pack of cigarettes and sticks one in his mouth as you two watch a movie in the living room. You look over at him about to light it and snatch it from his mouth.

“Not in my house!” You gasp, Bo pulls out another one and smirks. You hate that he smokes.

“They ain’t gonna know, come on.” Bo says lighting it. “‘Specially since your father seems to smoke right in this very room.” Bo comments after taking a drag. You huff at him and play with the stick in your hand, contemplating lighting one yourself. It’s bad but it’s not like you don’t wanna try it at least once.

“Picked up a bad habit from your Ma, Bo. I don’t like it.” You frown and squish the cigarette. Bo takes it from your hands.

“Vincent got her art skills, I got her cigarette habits. Wonder what Lester got.” Bo jokes, flicking some ash into the tray. You smack his knee.

“That’s not funny… but, if you picked it up from your mom, then I picked it up from my dad, so lemme try.” Your fingers reach to grab the half burnt cigarette. Bo takes it easily in his other hand and stretches far it out of your reach

“Ah ah ah, bad for your health sweetheart.” Bo blows smoke from the corner of his mouth. Your heart swells up. Why does he have to look so attractive like this?

“Well then you shouldn’t be doin’ it.” You frown. Bo smiles.

“Care about your health not mine, honey.”

Your hands sweat at the newest pet name he gave you. “You shouldn’t call me that.”

“What? Honey? Why not? Suits you.” Bo takes another drag from his cigarette before ashing it out.

“Cause then it’ll make it seem like we’re somethin’ else.”

You’re on your knees, with your hands folded in your lap. Bo is relaxed into the couch. He smirks. “Maybe I want us to be somethin’ else, honey.” He licks his bottom lip. Your heart feels as though it’ll burst from your chest. You shake your head shyly before joking,

“You say that again and I’ll have to kiss you.”

Bo sits up slow and takes your face in his hand, he leans in real close, your noses practically touching.

“Maybe I want us to be somethin’ else, honey.” His voice is raspy, practically a whisper, your stomach jumps up and the two of you lean in. You kiss his mouth and taste the tobacco and menthol on his lips. His other hand comes up to fully cradle your face. You grab onto his and deepen it.

You let go and look at Bo. His face is flushed. “So let’s be somethin’ else.”

“Sounds good to me. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Well, since we are boyfriend and girlfriend now. I think our first priority is goin’ up to your bedroom.”

“Bo Sinclair!” You push him playfully as the two of you laugh.

“I meant.. nah you know how I meant it but if you just wanna lay together we can.” Bo offers. You nod and the two of you stand up, completely forgetting about the movie.

Bo slides off his flannel and jeans making you flustered.

“Oh come on we grew up together.” Bo puts his hands in his hips. You bite your lip.

“Yeah but.. I dunno.” Bo walks slowly up to you and pulls off your shirt. He takes your bra off and pulls your pants off too. Then he walks over to your drawers and looks around trying to find a top for you to wear.

You cover yourself trying to keep your modesty in some way.

Bo smiles as he comes back over. “Come on honey. It’s okay.” He kisses your forehead and pulls the top over your head. You finish putting it on and the two of you lay down under your covers. Your pillow case had been replaced and thrown away along with you hair.

Bo takes you in his arms and kisses your head. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbles.

You smile up at him.

“And you’re handsome.”

He smiles back at you. “Your family ain’t ever gonna hurt you again okay?” Bo’s grip tightens slightly. You furrow your brows but nod. Not bothering to question his change of tone.

“Okay, Bo.”

#bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x reader

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