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#wrote all of this in one single morning
berlinnelity · 10 months
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listen, has no one ever thought about hijacked!effie?
like, think with me: during the rebellion, effie gets taken in by the capitol (among other capitolites, of course — such as peeta and katniss' stylist team; mainly those who had connections with the rebels) due to her "association" with the mockingjay, haymitch, peeta, all that jazz.
so, she gets the usual capitol treatment; especially, she gets electroshock torture (which leaves her with a lot of aftermaths, both physical and mental, that i'll get in a hot minute), but, in the end, she doesn't know shit about it, no one let her into things, although she had her suspicions that something was happening. she only wasn't sure what it was.
once they realise that she hasn't got anything, they don't kill her, — not like they did with portia, really, though that one was into the rebellion alongside cinna — deciding that she could have a better use. the reason why they hijack her is fairly simple: they wanted to use her as an experiment, before hijacking peeta. since her relationship with haymitch and the overall rebels is well-known, they messed her memories with them up (so, yeah, hijacked!effie wouldn't be so fond of anyone in the rebellion, as her vision of them was altered and all).
when the experiment succeded, they followed and did the same with peeta.
eventually, comes that operation, effie's taken along with the victors. she gets in district thirteen, absolutely wild lmao. woman was managing to put up a bigger fight than johanna, they've had to sedate her lol.
haymitch just gets to see her after sometime. when he does, however, effie's looking like an absolute wreck: she's all yellow flesh and bone, truly, skinnier and thinner than he's ever seen her (and that's quite saying something), sunken cheekbones, bruised all over, ribcages so prodruting through her skin it seemed they would pierce her. the mainly thing was: her right eye was bloodshot. that white part was utterly scarlet.
"hey, sweetheart," he goes to her, threading so very softly — he had been there, you know, when they got her to the medical center in thirteen with the others; he'd seen how— erratic, for the lack of a better word, she behaved when the doctors did so much as try and touch her — as he walked towards her. he's not quite sure what to say to her, in honesty. "you alright?" he manages, eventually.
she's quiet. unusually so. he knows they didn't do so much as to turn her into an avox — of that, he's very aware, you know — and still, her silence is eerie at best, and uncanny at worst. it worries him to a certain degree, really, because effie could never spend three fucking minutes without saying a single word, but she's been through a lot. in the end, he's concerned, yeah, though he's somewhat unsurprised by that; couldn't have the woman be tortured with electroshock on a daily basis and expect her to come back the same, could he?
he bends down a little bit, enough to get closer to her face. his thumb hovers beneath her eye, and he doesn't touch immediately. she remains in silence, still, even as he approximates; he can see how her gaze follows his every move, how her eyes go along with his movements. there is something in her watch, something he hasn't really seen before. now, he vaguely recognizes it as the same thing he saw in peeta's (that particularly dangerous glint) when the boy saw katniss, but he brushes it aside.
there shouldn't be any reason for them to do the same thing with effie, he supposes. there's certainly no reason, too, for him to be dwelling about that right now. so, he changes his concentration to the subject at hand, his head crooking to the side. he's no doctor, by any means, whatever the fuck they did to her eye, it clearly ain't right. "the fuck happened to it, sweetheart?" he asks, already expecting her to, before answering the question at all, scolding her for his lack of manners; yet, the scold never comes. his eyebrows knit in worry.
he observes her, taking every detail he possibly can. her hair, which he supposed must have been always so silken (supposed, because he's scarcely seen her natural hair at all; he's had the chance to just once or twice), looked like a fucking rat's nest with how knotted it was; her eyebags were purple and reddened, her skin pale, and he could see all the curves of her veins, fine as rabbit's hair. her nose seemed to be crooked, and there were bruises at the sides of his face. he sighed, speaking at last, "can you talk?"
finally, his thumb touches the skin beneath her eye. it's saggy, almost grainy when he does. well, he didn't think there was moisturiser to apply in the cells, anyway. things succeed all too quickly, then — one minute, she's sat in the bed with that thin hospital gown and a horrible posture; the other, she's taking off the IV drip from her vein, taking off the needle and somehow launching towards him, aiming for his neck — specifically, his jugular.
he feels the cold glide of the needle for an instant, on the verge of truly piercing through the vein, before he can react; his fingers wrap around her wrists. it's not a hard task, not with how weak her body inevitably is, not with how frail she seems (and he hates to attribute such words to effie; for as long as he has known her, at least seventeen years, she has never been one to be described as frail, not in physical nor psychological way). she's rather quick, though. he'll give her that.
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homuncvlus · 15 days
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Buy me a coffee
THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE TWO HOURS ASKING FOR THINGS IS LITERALLY MY WORST FEAR BUT FUCK IT WE BALL
my mum could really use £30-40 for groceries. We've spent a lot of money fixing stuff this month like replacement pipes and central heating (that really should be our landlord's responsibility..). She only has £150 left but we've still got bills to pay later this month so not much to spend on food and other necessities. Universal credit + her wage doesn't get paid until the end of the month (something is coming next week too but idr) 🥲
Usually we ask family and close friends for borrowing money but no one has been able to lend any aaa
No pressure to donate whatsoever — but if you have some extra money, any support would be greatly appreciated mwah <3
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babvblue · 1 year
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guess who finished her zine for her course (: the zine she had multiple meltdowns over (: the one she didn't think she'd get done (:
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i've been thinking about beyond ascension again, since i've been rereading. like most of the other things i posted more than a year ago, thinking about it is incredibly embarrassing. but objectively i know i'm happy with it. posting things just has a way of making them seem cringe. anyway i still find it funny that i watched this terrible show, became irremediably gripped by these terrible villains, wrote this entire thing, and completely totally forgot temutai existed. sorry. that guy can just stay unredeemed.
#tong fo being a bartender is also#a set in stone headcanon of mine#the kind with no canon reference but that you simply know by divine vision to be true#and it was really important to me that at the end of the story he leave the valley of peace and not return#because that is not po's responsibility#and po deserves a space to heal and not have to be reminded anymore of these things#i have a lot of thoughts about this fic it's one of the longest things i've ever written in one go#which isn't much compared to other authors but for me it was a big thing#and i think it's cute how similar some of it ended up being to the fourth movie#which is probably a reason why i liked it so much i was like#yes yes yes yes this is it for me#OH making this post just reminded me of ANOTHER extremely dark fic i wrote about a cartoon panda#this one unpublished but one of my favorite things i'd ever written#braces episode from we bare bears you will forever be famous and hysterically inspiring to me#the thought of other people seeing this makes me cringe horribly but i'm trying to build immunity#fun fact for the fun fact lovers my whole ao3 account was me trying to build immunity#that's why the first few fics were once a year evenly i was doing my best to rid myself of shame and it NEVER worked i was literally#equally as embarrassed and terrified for months afterward every single time#but we stay silly and continue gently pushing our boundaries for self growth opportunities#now i think i just write certain things with posting in mind which makes it easier than feeling like i'm exposing things#that weren't supposed to be seen#that's all thank you for listening to random thoughts from sunny at four in the morning#🌃#i would give this the fandom tag but i don't want random people to witness me
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crunchycrystals · 11 months
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someone on reddit made a chart comparing what songs are on each edition of midnights and my favorite comment under that is "you shouldn't need a chart to figure out what songs are on an album you're buying"
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chososdiscordkitten · 4 months
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pairing: Gojo x afab!reader content: no use of y/n or pronouns, NO PLOT JUST PORN, BREEDING KINK, mentions of PREGNANCY and BABY TRAPPING, unestablished relationship, gojo is such a tease, dirty talk, doggy, teasing, fingering, oral (f receiving) , he eats it from the back, eye contact, cervix kissing (?), multiple orgasms, gaslighting (?), Gojo doesn't know when to shut the fuck up, no after care sowy word count: 3.3k
(a.n) wrote this cause i couldnt stop thinking abt the 'plap plap plap get pregnant get pregnant' meme lol also have y'all noticed I have a thing for cream pies lol? wrote this listening to 'Martillazo- Dani Flow'
MDNI
What you had with Satoru wasn't a ‘relationship’ in his words. It wasn't dating, or a situationship. He just liked you, he liked being around you.
And most of all, he liked fucking you. But recently he had been toying around with the idea of one day telling him this arrangement wasn’t enough anymore.
And knowing Satoru, he wouldn't ask you for anything more serious. Not because he didn't want it too, but he didn't want to seem weak in front of you. Especially in front of you.
And I mean how humiliating would that be? The strongest asking you for a relationship? The mere thought made him cringe.
But he didn't like thinking that way, he didn't like thinking of you finding someone else that can give you a real relationship.
So Satoru tried to think of ways to make you his, and only his. Ways that didn't involve him confessing his feelings. Marking you up with hickeys on your breasts, bite marks on your shoulders.
Eventually finishing inside of you every single time. The sight of your cunt leaking his cum made something deep inside of him flip.
Now the sole purpose of having sex; for him, was to fuck his own seed into you. Over and over again. Secretly hoping that one day you'd present him with a positive stick.
Sad look on your face as though you were expecting him to act negatively. Asking him what you were supposed to do now. Only for him to hug you close and tell you he'd take care of you. Holding your face to his chest as you let out silent tears.
A smile creeping onto his face knowing that if that day ever came, that's how he would make you his forever.
Not once did he ever express these thoughts to you, but the first time he fucked you raw, you asked him if he had anything. Satoru gave you an over excited grin with a quiet mumble, “Nope.” before sliding inside of you.
Eventually you started noticing his incessant need to always finish inside of you. Even if you were sucking him off, he'd tell you to stop right before he'd finish. Not wanting to waste a single drop. But you never stopped to ask why, letting him fill you up anytime he wanted.
You should've known something was wrong when he backed you against a corner the second he saw you, a sinister smile on his lips as he traced his hand down your side.
That very morning Satoru came to the conclusion that he had to fill you up anytime he had the chance to. Hoping that maybe this time it'll happen.
“I missed you~” he hummed, Taking his hand and guiding your thighs to open the slightest bit. Pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips, confusion adorning your face as you kissed him back.
“I just saw you yesterday.” You smiled, pulling away from him. Taking your bottom lip into your teeth as you felt his hand caress your bare thigh.
“I knowww-” he hummed, tracing his hand down in between your thighs till he felt the warmth radiating from you. Taking his fingers and pressing them against your clothed cunt. You huffed out quietly at the pressure, looking into his eyes and feeling warmth brush against your nose.
Letting out a small giggle when he felt how messy your panties were. “I haven't even done anything yet-” he smiled, blue eyes staring holes through yours. “And you're already this wet for me?” he hummed, tracing his fingers beneath the band of your panties. Y
ou looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, letting out a small sigh when he circled his middle and ring finger at your entrance. Seeing you writhe beneath him, “Satoru-” you whined, knowing if you didn’t say something he'd just keep teasing.
“I think you missed me too.” he smiled, sliding his middle finger inside of you slowly, gasping when he felt your cunt pulse around him. 
The back of your hand pressed against your mouth so you wouldn't make too much noise. “Don't be that way-” he hummed, taking your hand from your face and seeing your eyebrows pinch together, slipping his middle finger out slowly, pressing it to his ring finger and slowly sliding himself back inside.
“I did-” You exhaled, the curl his fingers took making you close your eyes. “I missed you.” you gasped, feeling his fingers press against the spot that made you rise to your tiptoes. This made Satoru giggle,
“Oh? But didn’t you just see me yesterday?” he mocked you, the edge of his palm pressing against your clit as you huffed at his words. His long fingers pumping inside of you, too slow for your tastes.
Whining a forced “Please” as you felt his palm tease your throbbing clit. He smiled looking at your expression, knowing you were getting to the pinnacle he wanted you at. Slowly pulling his fingers out of you, smile on his lips as he watched the disappointed look on your face form.
Leaning in and pressing a wet kiss onto your blushed lips. You were hesitant to kiss him back, but you did. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his tongue inside your mouth, swirling against your own tongue as he hummed.
Satoru’s eyes half lidded, watching you submit to him as your hand found their way to the side of his face, the other on his bicep. Gripping onto him as though your life depended on it, this only made Satoru smile against you. Pulling from your lips and trailing his hands up your oversized t-shirt. Making direct contact with the upper part of your hips. Groaning against you as his fingers felt slight goosebumps form at his trailing touches.
Placing a wet kiss onto the corner of your mouth, peppering kisses towards your ear. Licking a long stripe onto the shell of your ear that made you squirm.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you all day.” he whispered, his breath making you shift against the wall. He took your hand into his, slowly guiding it to feel his strained cock in his pants. Feeling it slightly twitch against your touch, he let out a low groan as your grip on his print tightened.
You smiled with a quiet huff, “Then do it-” you teased. This only egged Satoru on. His hand tight against your hip as he flipped you over quickly, your chest now pressed against the wall. You pushed your ass out against his hips. Your hand grazing the print his cock left in his pants. Leaning to your ear almost groaning when he felt your fingers graze past his caged tip.
Letting out a smiley gasp, “See how you have me?” he purred into your ear, making you move your hips against him. 
You whined feeling his hand roam from your hip onto the plump of your ass. Rubbing the clothed skin lovingly, “So pretty for me.” he smiled, hooking his fingers onto the sides of your panties and sliding them to your knees.
Back arched and your hands now on the wall to brace for what's coming to you, “Put it inside-” you whined, grinding your bare bottom against his clothed cock in hopes he'd hurry up a little.
“Oh? You need me that badly?” he teased, making you turn your head slightly to look at him. You let out a needy ‘Mhm’ as his eyes widened at the sight of your face. “I know- I know.” he cooed, seeing how flushed your face was.
“When have I ever failed you, hmm?” he asked you, already knowing the answer. Taking his hand and undoing his belt, shoving his black briefs down and wincing when the tip of his flushed cock hit the air. Spreading your cheeks slightly, inhaling through clenched teeth as he saw your cunt glimmer.
Taking the two fingers that were inside of you previously and sliding them down your core. Shivering against his teasing touch. Letting out a low whine when you felt the tips of his pale fingers brush against your clit. His mouth slack jawed as he saw how slick you really were. 
The mere sight of you made him fall to his knees. Almost in prayer as he came eye to eye with your pulsating cunt with a small gasp. Taking both of his hands and placing them on your ass. You squirmed, feeling his breath against your cunt, pressing yourself closer to the wall when you felt his tongue lick at your hole.
You moaned his name which only made him push his nose further into your cunt. His tongue slowly lapped against your clit as you squirmed.
Taking one of the hands that was on your ass and trailing it down to the back of your thigh. Taking his thumb and rubbing light circles against your clit, drawing his tongue back to your hole as he worked you.
The feeling made you gasp sharply, Satoru’s eyes started to roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around his tongue. Throwing yourself back onto his face slightly.
His tongue wasn't enough, you needed all of him inside. Groaning against your cunt as he felt his cock start to leak, the sounds you were making made his head feel dizzy.
Your eyes screwed shut, frustrated whines leaving your lips as you arched your back even more. You felt yourself start to get back to the feeling he ripped away from you moments earlier.
“Satoru-” you whined, feeling his grip on your ass tighten. “M’close-” you whimpered, cheek against the wall and feeling him smile against you.
His thumb quickening against your clit makes you gasp, muttering a quiet “Right there-” as you felt yourself come undone with a shivering moan. Satoru greedily slurped at the wetness that slipped out of your cunt, you let out a small opened mouth pant at the feeling. 
Placing a small kiss to your cunt before standing again, cock laid against your lower back as he lifted the hem of his jacket throwing it off along with his shirt.
Taking his lip between his teeth, sliding his hands from your ass up your back. Rubbing slowly up your back beneath your shirt as you shifted against him. “Impatient aren't you?” he smiled, taking his hands and guiding you to take your shirt off. Tossing it aside and he saw your exposed back.
“Need you inside ‘Toru-” you whined, feeling his hands trail up your back and land on your shoulders. Placing a wet kiss onto your nape before his hands trailed to your jaw. Leaning over and pulling your head back, seeing your eyes lock with his.
'Tsk tsk tsk’ he smiled “Naughty, naughty.” he cooed when he saw you let out a small whine. Knowing as much as you'd tell him to shut up, you liked hearing his unnecessary comments. Taking one of his hands and grasping it around his cock.
Trailing his hand to rest below your chin, pulling you back further. Smiling before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Lining himself up with you cunt, pursing his lips as he looked at you, lips parted with small pleads falling from your lips.
Pressing the tip of his weeping cock against your entrance, pinching his eyebrows together and inhaling. Letting his jaw fall at the feeling. The corner of his mouth curled into a smile when he saw you close your mouth and see a small grin on your lips.
Sucking in air through pursed lips when he felt your cunt suck him in, “You're so greedy~” he hummed, making your lips part and scanning his features. Sadistic blue eyes staring into yours as he pulled himself out of you slowly.
That stupid smirk not leaving his lips before thrusting into you again, this time only rougher. Making you clench around him, gaining a groan from his lips. His hand letting go of your jaw and holding your hips as he slowly dragged himself out of you. Your hands back onto the wall as you heard him let out low groans behind you, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you.
Closing his eyes and throwing his head back, mouth open as he let out loud groans. His hands guiding you back onto him like you were some toy. The sounds he was making made you reach one of your hands back to grasp his. “Fuckkk” he moaned, feeling you squeeze around him. 
The side of your face pressed against the wall harshly, feeling Satoru quicken his pace. Hissing through clenched teeth, almost like you felt him in your throat. Eyes screwed shut as you fucked yourself back onto him. This made Satoru stop his thrusts, his hands easing their grip on your hips.
Looking down with half lidded eyes, seeing you fuck yourself onto his cock. Seeing how your ass stuttered against his hips. “My god-” he huffed, seeing how desperate you looked bouncing off of him.
He leaned over, hunched over your back before whispering in your ear. “Lemme cum inside of you, yeah?” He smiled, huffing against your ear as he thrusted into you. You only nodded your head ‘yes’, hearing him let out a stifled laugh.
“I wanna hear you say it~” he purred, making you clench around his cock.
“Satoru-” you moaned against the wall, making his hips speed up against you. “Please come inside-” you whined, hearing him let out a shaky breath against your ear.
Knees trembling as he straightened his back and thrusted into you quicker. Feeling his weeping tip kiss your cervix, “You're so deep ‘Toru-” You moaned, feeling the grip on your hips tighten, hearing a breathless laugh leave him.
Quickly snapping his hips into you, pushing you further into the wall as you let out a loud whine. Hearing him mumble something but not being able to comprehend what it was. His cock drilling into you as your eyes squeezed shut.
Satoru pulled out once more shaky hips struggling to push back into you. Feeling his tip twitch inside of you. Warm liquid trickling inside of you as he groaned loudly. His pants now around his ankles along with his briefs.
 “Again.” he whispered. Making you furrow your eyebrows at how his cock was still hard inside of you. Starting to thrust inside of you again, his thrusts were more sloppy as you moaned.
“Toru-” you whined, hearing his heavy breathing behind you, hands pulling you back onto him as he started raising your hips slightly. Standing on your tip toes as he took the hand that was on yours and raised it. Pressing it against the wall. Fingers intertwined as he thrusted inside of you, being able to hear just how messy your cunt was getting.
His hand on your ass making red marks form on it from how hard he was gripping onto you. “Wait-” you whined, feeling his chin rest against your shoulder. Thrusting inside of you at a new angle. Not being able to see it but you knew his face had a dopey smile plastered onto it.
“That doesn't sound like a safe word~” he purred, his cock brushing past your sweet spot quickly making you let out a small whine.
“Right there-” you gasped, being able to feel his tip now nudging into the spot that made you moan uncontrollably. Squeezing your cunt around his cock, making him let out a drawn out whine right next to your ear.
Feeling yourself come undone on his cock. It didn't take long for Satoru to come again, lazy hips thrusting into you as his chest heaved. A bead of sweat dripped down his temple as he looked at his hand that engulfed yours, pinned to the wall and seeing how your fingers intertwined with his. He let out a huff, moaning a string of ‘I’m cumming’ into your ear. Slow thrusts as he felt a shiver run down his spine. 
Satoru took a second to catch his breath, taking the hand that was on your ass and placing it to the side of your face. Lifting his chin from your shoulder and looking into your eyes. Seeing his flushed face, lips parted as he leaned in to kiss you. Sloppy tongue in your mouth as you felt his hips start to move again.
Opening your eyes mid kiss in surprise. Seeing him looking at you with half lidded eyes. Swapping spit with him, making it drip from the side of your mouth. He pulled away, straightening his back. Dropping your hand from the wall and landing it on your ass. His lip trembled between his teeth.
Thrusting into you slowly, but making sure to get as deep as he could. Satoru’s incoherent mumbling made your ears hurt trying to understand him.
Feeling his hips press against you everytime he thrusted, but his teasing words were no longer in the air. A few whimpers and whines followed by the quiet whispers he said to himself.
You called him through a whine, not hearing him respond or halt his movements. You looked back to him, calves burning from being on your tiptoes. Seeing how focused his face was, so focused he didn't even notice you looking at him. Your eyes locked on his lips.
Blurry vision attempting to focus on what he was saying through your moans. Trying to make out what he was saying over and over again. ‘Get’ you heard, feeling him thrust into you quicker. His eyes glued to the sight of your cunt sucking him in, a ring of white at the base of his cock.
You squint your eyes trying to focus on what he was saying. Finding it difficult to hear through the steady sound of your ass plapping against his hips.
‘Get pregnant.’
Your eyes widened when you heard his words clearly now. Furrowing your eyebrows when you realized he had been mumbling this whole time.
You turned your head back around, small gasps leaving your lips as he sped up. Now being able to hear the string of the demand from his lips clearly. You closed your eyes, holding back the whines that threatened to leave your throat.
Feeling his hips stutter against you. Satoru screwed his eyes shut and threw his head back. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the overstimulation against the tip of his cock.
A low groan leaving his throat as he came inside of you one last time. Feeling his knees weaken as he panted. You were gasping for air. Feeling how full your cunt suddenly felt. Satoru sighed, feeling his cock finally softening inside of you. Wishing he could stay inside of you to keep all of what he pumped inside of you. 
Your brace on the wall eased, slowly easing yourself down from the tip of your toes. Satoru’s forehead resting at the back of your head as he caught his breath. Closing his eyes and sighing. Leaning down to press a gentle kiss onto your shoulder.
Wincing as he slowly pulled himself out of you. Hoping nothing oozed out of your cunt. You turned yourself slightly, looking up to see his flushed face. Eyebrows furrowed as you contemplated asking him.
“Am I crazy or did I hear you saying ‘get pregnant’?” You questioned, seeing his face drop quickly before smiling again.
“No idea what you're talking about.” He grinned, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Looking into your eyes as though he wasn't lying right now.
“But if you want me to- all you have to do is ask~” he hummed, pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyebrows stayed furrowed as you mentally questioned if you did hear him say those two words.
-
pt 2 here
every time I think to write something short it always ends up being longer than 1k words. what is wrong with me. also I am a big fan of the whole topic of Gojo into breeding. started this at 5:35 pm- finished at 11:50 pm. nonstop. I need to be put in a cage
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a-b-riddle · 5 days
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Part 2
Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.
For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.
Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.
Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.
For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.
But it wasn't.
And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.
Did they still want this?
The answer was clear.
You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.
Jesus.
A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.
You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.
You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.
Kyle.
Fuck.
Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.
Maybe that was just as bad.
What are you up to today?
That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.
You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.
E-mail the publisher back.
Change the locks.
You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.
No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.
So you didn't respond.
You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.
You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.
You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'
It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.
Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.
But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.
You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.
You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.
Fuck.
That almost got you.
You almost answered it.
Almost.
You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.
And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.
Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.
Not that you would really hear it again...
Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.
On my way. We need to talk.
It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.
The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.
Not my taste, Dove.
Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.
I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.
Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.
The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.
Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.
Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.
You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.
You just hoped you didn’t regret it.
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landosjpg · 23 days
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mischief | ln
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the one where your boyfriend has a bad race.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~0.7k
warnings: smut (minors dni), pwp, p in v, unprotected sex
note: lando’s special helmet is so hot it had me thinking all types of things all weekend so i couldn’t help myself. wrote this during the red flag after an all-nighter so excuse any possible spelling mistakes :)
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lando had a bad race. he had even missed on a podium for a little mistake he’d made during his last stint.
it really shouldn’t matter that much, really; he’d had an overall great weekend. but everyone knew how lando was and how he used to get in his head over those things every time. this one time, however, he wasn’t sad.
he was just pissed off.
once the race was over and he got out of the car, he didn’t even bother taking a few minutes to talk to his engineers. instead, he took your hand and practically dragged you to his driver’s room, promising his team that he would be back in less than fifteen minutes to complete his media duties.
he hadn’t even had time to take his helmet off, and of course he hadn’t explained what he was up to. but before you could think about it, he had you bent over the nearest surface as soon as he slammed the door of his driver’s room close.
the sudden roughness of his movements stole a yelp from your lips, making you look up at him over your shoulder. he probably caught on the confused look in your eyes, because before you could even say a word, his gaze found yours and he asked:
“can i, please?”
the hint of neediness in his voice made you instantly nod, he didn’t had to explain what he wanted. with your quick answer, he proceeded to quickly undo his suit just enough to free his hardening cock.
luckily for him, it was hot that day so you had decides to put on a sundress that very morning. his fingers slowly caressed your thighs up to your hips, pulling the skirt of your dress up with them and revealing your soft skin to him.
he couldn’t help a groan from escaping his throat as he saw the wet patch that was already forming between your legs; and without wanting to waste any more time, he gently kicked your feet to spread your legs open and with two of his digits, pulled your underwear to the side.
“so ready for me,” lando mumbled, his voice low and muffled under his helmet.
before he placed his cock at your entrance, his fingers gave your clit a gentle tap, making you squirm and moan under his touch. then, he quickly slid inside of you, filling you completely with one swift movement.
one of his hand found your hips as he started thrusting into you relentlessly, gripping your body as the other one pressed against your lower back, holding you down in place.
the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot inside you with every single movement of his body, and soon you couldn’t keep the sounds to yourself.
aware of the thinness of the walls and not wanting people to hear you, the hand that was pressed in your lower back slowly creeped up to your hair, holding it in a fist before he pulled you up, your back against his chest.
quickly, his hand found home in your mouth, covering it to muffle your oh so sweet sounds as you looked at his eyes behind his half-open visor.
despite of the helmet covering his face, you could see the lust in lando’s pupils, which was enough to send you over the edge, your walls strangling his cock as you came around him with a muffled cry.
feeling your hands trying to grab onto him and your pussy getting even tighter as he kept fucking into you, it didn’t take him long to reach his own high, filling you with a loud groan.
he stilled himself inside you, his grip on your hip softening and his hand dropping from your mouth, letting you catch your breath again.
you felt your boyfriend’s arms circling around your waist, keeping you close to him before he murmured a low “i love you” in between labored breaths.
after a few seconds in which the only sound that could be heard were your gasps for air, a knock on the door took the two of you back to reality, someone reminding lando of his media duties.
he sighed and took his helmet and balaclava off after putting his suit back in place. not without giving you a peck on the lips, he left you in his driver’s room and rushed to his interviews, a lot more calm that only a few minutes before.
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readychilledwine · 3 months
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Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.
( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)
Here Without You
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Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.
Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating
A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.
*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*
💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙
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You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.
Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.
You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.
The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.
Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.
You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.
You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.
You were alone.
And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.
The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-
You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.
This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.
Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"
You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."
Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.
You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.
It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.
"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"
You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."
Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.
"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"
"Lucien and Tamlin."
Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"
"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."
He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.
Your bed had never felt so soft.
Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.
His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.
Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.
But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.
Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.
But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.
The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.
The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.
The look of a father mourning lost time.
Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.
"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"
Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."
Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.
If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-
The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."
An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"
Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."
Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"
"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"
Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."
Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."
Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.
Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.
Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."
Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"
"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."
Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.
"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."
Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.
He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.
You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.
He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."
You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.
Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."
He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."
"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."
He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."
"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.
It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."
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@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.
My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.
General Taglist:
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
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bucks-babe · 20 days
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Slip Up
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Pairing: Notsovirgin!Bucky x f!reader
Summary: While having fun with your boyfriend, an accident occurs, leading to another first for Bucky 
Warnings: Wrong hole, Bucky cums so much, squirting, Bucky is a sweet boy, unprotected p in v, anal, anal fingering, dirty talk, small mention of prostate cancer (Like one line), Bucky is an innocent baby, anal to vaginal fingering (DON’T DO THAT), Bucky calls reader a whore once, but it’s sexy, overstimulation?, daddy kink (I can’t help myself), Bucky is becoming a dom??, no crying during sex (I know, shocker) 
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Part of the Virgin!Bucky series. It can be read as a stand alone as well. But you shouldn't read it alone because it's filthy! And it's worth it to see Bucky becoming more and more a lover of Sex! Beta read and idea from the incredible @buckys-wintersoldier Blame her for the filth you are about to read. She’s the one who put this idea in my head. I can’t be held responsible for the feelings you experience. However, any and all mistakes are my own. But you wrote that!!!! A lot of filthy ideas which dropped my jaw and let my pasta almost fall out of my mouth!
You and Bucky have been fucking like rabbits ever since the day he lost his virginity to you. He was addicted to the feel of your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, never lasting more than a few minutes, but able to keep going thanks to the serum coursing through his body. He wonders if he will ever be able to last longer. You say you don’t mind that he can’t control how fast he cums, but it doesn’t make him feel any better that he can’t.
Even with that thought nagging at him all the time, the moment he enters you his mind goes blank, only able to think about how wet and tight you are. Never experiencing anything like it before. Almost every night you have to change the sheets, the sheer volume of his cum too much for your body to handle; however, that doesn’t stop you from fucking him every damn day, waking him up with blowjobs when he has morning wood, or the way you beg for him to cum in you just one more time.
Bucky understands now. He understands why people go so crazy over sex. The pleasure you give him makes him weak in the knees, not a single thought in his head, only the urge to fill you up over and over again. 
That’s how he ends up in bed, railing you. Legs thrown over his shoulders taking his brutal assault. He’s gotten more confident each time he fucks you. He may not last long, but he makes up for it with how many times he can cum and keep going. The both of you writhing in pleasure, him drawing seven orgasms from you already, eating your pussy for over an hour. 
He wasn’t too far behind, cumming inside of you three times and once down your throat. The sounds of your fucking is louder than ever, your squirt mixed with his excessive loads making you wetter than ever. “Fuck, doll, this pussy is so fucking wet, filled up with my cum. So fucking dirty, letting me use you like this, fucking you like a damn toy. God, my cock is so fucking sensitive, gonna blow again. Yeah, you want that? I bet you do, you dirty whore.”
One thing that Bucky has found out he really loves is dirty talk and degradation. He loves when you do it to him just as much as doing it to you. It makes his cock somehow even harder. Each push of his hips is met with a harsh slap of his thighs meeting your ass and the vulgar sound of the excessive wetness of your pussy.
“Shit, doll, gonna cum. Gonna cum so goddamn much, make this pussy overflow. Shitshitshit, fuck, m’cumming.” His balls pull up, forcing so much cum out of his cock that he swears he’s about to pass out. His eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels you squirt all over him, another wave of cum bursting from him. The force of your orgasm pushes his cock out, but Bucky was brainless now, having cum so much he was losing control of his body.
His hips never stopped moving, almost not noticing that he wasn’t in your pussy anymore, too lost in his own pleasure, cum still flowing from him. He tried to put his cock back in, needing to keep you full of his cum, but the amount of cum and wetness made a slippery mess. At the next thrust of his hips, his cock slides down, not entering your welcoming pussy, rather trying, and failing to enter your ass.
Your hole tight and unwilling to stretch on such short notice takes your breath away. The pain is instant, shooting from your hole all the way up your spine. “FUCK!” You push Bucky off of you with so much force he almost falls off the bed. Curling on your side, you try to gasp for air, the pain knocking the wind out of you. 
Bucky is knocked out of his stupor, cock immediately softening when he sees how much pain you’re in. “Doll, what happened? Are you okay?” Ice drenches his spine. He barely started having sex and he’s already hurt you. Everything was fine seconds ago and now you’re curled up in the fetal position gasping for air. 
“I’m okay, Bucky, I’m okay.” It comes out breathy but you try to compose yourself for your boyfriend’s sake, needing to comfort him, letting him know he didn’t do anything wrong. You roll over looking at Bucky who looks like a kicked puppy. 
“What did I do?” His voice is thick with unshed tears. You’re the last person he ever wants to hurt. You motion for him to come closer to you. At first he hesitates, not wanting to accidentally hurt you again, but you insist so he follows.
“You tried to go in the wrong hole, sweetheart. That one doesn’t open up as easy.” He whines. Bucky can’t deny that the thought of his cock in your ass hadn’t crossed his mind more than once. But he couldn’t ever find the confidence to ask you. Of course he knows that you would never judge him, but he didn’t know that he wasn’t the only one who was interested.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, doll.” You cut off the rest of his apology, not wanting to hear him talk badly about himself. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. A lot of people do that, they just have to prep for it.” That gains Bucky’s attention. Other people want to do the same thing as him? 
“I-well-they do?” Bucky can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He was terrible at having any conversations about what he wants to do in the bedroom, too afraid to ask.
“Yes, they do. If you want we can try it too. We just need to have some prep beforehand, so you’ll fit inside of me and it won’t hurt.” 
“It hurts you?” There was no way that Bucky would do anything if it would hurt you. He gets off on your pleasure just as much as his own. Why would anyone want to do something that hurts their partner?
“Not when I’m prepared. You have to work that hole open because it’s not usually meant for that kind of stuff. It’s supposed to feel good for the both of us.” That makes his cock twitch. The feeling of your pussy is so different from the feel of your mouth. They both drive him crazy, but the thought of what your ass would feel like has his cock rock hard in a matter of seconds.
“Can we, uh, can we do that?” His cheeks were on fire, never having been so embarrassed to ask for something in his life. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, not wanting you to see his face. The sound of your giggle makes him curl further into you, feeling the vibrations through his chest.
“Of course we can, sweetheart. I’ll show you what to do, talk you through it.” It soothes Bucky, knowing that you’re there to guide him. To show him how to please you. He has no clue what he would do without you.
“Have you done this before?” Bucky knows he has no right to be jealous of any of your exes when he is the one who gets to be with you, but the image of someone else taking that hole annoys him.
“Only by myself, but I’ll show you how to start.” Gently, you push Bucky off of you, making him sit up on the bed. He stares down at you with so much love you almost just beckon him back to you, wanting to keep him in your arms forever. Nonetheless, you spread your legs, showing him your swollen, cum filled cunt.
You see Bucky’s cock bop with a pulse of arousal at the sight. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Bucky watches as you flip over, ass up in the air causing him to moan. You glance back at him with a smirk, but continue on your mission. Opening the drawer to your bedside table, you pull out a bottle of lube, tossing it to Bucky who easily catches it.
“What is this? What’s lube?” You move back into your original position, drawing Bucky’s attention away from the bottle. 
“Well, you gotta get in there somehow. It makes everything slicker, less painful. Open the bottle, sweetheart and put it on one of your fingers. Then I want you to circle my hole with it.”
Bucky whispers a quiet, “oh fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” underneath his breath before popping the cap to the bottle open and putting a generous amount on his finger before bringing it to your rim, circling it just like you said. 
“You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. Always listen so well to me.” Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily at your praise, wanting more.
“Can I put one in now, please?” Oh, your baby was desperate. You look right into his eyes and nod, letting him know he can. “Shit, you’re so tight.” You only gasp, the feeling of his finger inside of you is so much different than your own. He slowly pumps his finger in and out, curling it to find your spot. His brows pull together in concentration, not being able to find it. He has to put his ego aside and ask for help, he knows it. “Doll, can you show me where it is?”
“There’s no g-spot in my ass, sweets.” This stops his finger, his head immediately falling, not wanting to look into your eyes. He knows men have a prostate, it was a whole deal back in the day with men getting cancer. So why didn’t you have one?
“But, what about your prostate?” The poor thing. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He doesn’t know any better and he just wants to make you feel good. The last thing you want to do is make him feel bad for something he didn’t know. 
“Oh, sweets, women don’t have them, only men do.” This was a very awkward conversation to have when Bucky’s finger is still in your ass, just sitting there unmoving. Bucky bites his bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with you. Why can’t he do anything right? First he tries to spear you with his cock in your ass and now he is trying to find a damn prostate that you don’t even have.
“M’sorry, doll. I didn’t know, I just thought everyone had one.” Bucky feels the blood slowly leaving his cock from the mortification. You felt your face heat up too, the pressure of his finger a constant reminder that he was inside of you. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just move your finger like you would your cock. All you have to do is be gentle and you’ll get the hang of it.” When he finally looks up at you he has the sweetest pout on his lips. Keeping eye contact with him, you trail your hand down your body, meeting his hand where it resides inside of you. Wrapping your hand around his, you guide his movement, slowly trusting his hand until he starts to move it on his own.
“It feels so tight. How am I going to fit in there?” Just the thought of his cock in the hole that is struggling to accommodate one finger has the blood rushing right back into his dick. 
You let out a small moan, enjoying the feeling of Bucky’s finger, much better than your own. “You can add another finger, sweets, just be gentle.” Bucky’s breath hitches, cock desperate to be inside you, but he knows he has to wait. He brings his middle finger to your hole, rubbing it the way he did the first; his first finger still inside you. After a few seconds he gingerly pushes his second finger in, extremely aware of the stretch around his digits.
“Oh fuck, want to feel you around my cock so bad.” Bucky knows that as soon as he puts his cock in you he’s going to cum. It took so long for him to not cum immediately when he’s in your pussy. Even so, he still can’t last more than a few minutes. It’s still a shock to him that he didn’t bust as soon as you took him in your mouth for the first time.
Bucky keeps up the pace with his fingers, ignoring the ache in his cock. When you tell him to add another he eagerly does so, wanting to stretch you out as fast as possible while keeping you comfortable. You see his hips jerking, trying to find relief from the pressure building up in his balls.
“Spread your fingers for me, sweets, stretch me out for your fat cock.” The whine that leaves Bucky’s lips has your cunt throbbing and your ass clenching around his fingers. He does what you say, like he always does, and the moan that leaves the both of you is salacious. “You like that, huh? You like the thought of your fat cock in my ass, sweets?” Bucky can only groan, frantically nodding his head, his dick somehow getting harder.
“Please tell me you’re ready. Need my cock in you so bad, doll.” He looks like he could cum just from the sight of his fingers in your hole. You take pity on him, not being able to stand the thought of him not being inside you any longer.
“Yeah, sweets, just need more lube.” As quickly as he can while still being tender, he removes his fingers and desperately searches for the bottle, squirting more than enough on his cock. Skooching closer to you, he spreads your legs, lifting you up so he can stare at your stretched hole. He places your legs on top of his thighs, looking at you for confirmation before grabbing his cock and lining it up with your entrance.
Slowly pushing in, he can feel the resistance of your ass, yet it was still so welcoming. Bucky’s eyes roll back, his metal hand wrapping around the base of his cock, trying to stave off his orgasm. “Doll, I can’t, fuck, it feels too good, I- oh fuck, m’cumming.” Bucky only had the tip of his cock in your ass. He was vaguely aware that he shouldn’t push the rest of his cock into you so the hand holding the base of his cock moves up his length, jerking his cock to help ride his orgasm out.
“Fuck, sweets, I can feel you filling up my ass. You’re going to make me leak all over the bed.” This only makes Bucky whine more, hips jerking slightly, still trying to stop himself from slamming the rest of his cock inside, but the feeling of his cum shooting in your ass it too hot so you move your hips, trying to take more of his cock, while he’s still cumming inside of you.
“Ohhhh fuuuucck, that’s so good, so fucking good, want to stay inside you forever, keep this tight ass wrapped around my cock all the damn time.” More cum shot out of his cock with renewed vigor. Bucky thought he was about to pass out, fighting off the feeling because there was no way he could miss a second of being inside you. 
His head was thrown back, not able to control his head. You felt your pussy throb, slick leaking down to where his cock rests in your hole, clit pulsing, hard and begging to be touched. You couldn’t help yourself, rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock that was still hard but not shooting his load anymore. “You’re so fucking big, sweets, stretching me out so much, never felt anything like it before.” It wasn’t a lie, it never felt like this with any of your toys, the fact that Bucky’s load was supersized doing nothing to quell your arousal.
“Bet I could feel myself if I stuck my fingers in your pussy. Massage my cock through your walls. Bet you would like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah, I think you would.” Bucky had no room to talk about how needy you were when he busted as soon as his tip was inside of you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when you’re already cock drunk just from the few shallow thrusts of your hips.
All you could do was moan and nod your head, wanting to feel him everywhere. Bucky had to use his flesh fingers, needing to feel his cock through your pussy. Without preamble, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, immediately curling them to feel his cock through your thin walls. “Fuck, doll, you’re so fucking perfect, taking my cock so well.” 
He couldn’t hold out any longer, pulling his hips back just to slam them back in, the sound of your leaking slick mixed with all the lube around your ass made a sinful sound. Just that one thrust knocks the wind out of the both of you, only to catch your breath to wantonly moan. “How does it feel, doll? How does my fat cock feel up your tight ass?” The slapping noises only got louder with each thrust, each harder than the last. 
“So good, daddy, so fucking good!” Bucky’s hips stutter, cock aching to cum, but he can’t, not yet.
Your moans mixed so sweetly with Bucky’s whines and groans. His fingers rubbing his dick every time he pushes back in. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Need to feel you milk my cock. Need you to milk daddy’s cock for him.” You shake your head, not able to process the pleasure he’s giving you, having already had seven orgasms. “Yes, you can, doll. I need it, need it so fucking bad.”
With his fingers still thrusting in your pussy, his metal hand comes down to rub your clit. Your hips jerk, trying to get away from the cool metal but you have nowhere to run. He fucks you even harder, urging the cum from his balls. You don’t even feel the coil tighten in your belly, overwhelming pleasure sneaking up on you. 
You can’t even scream, eyes rolling back, somehow mustering up the strength to push his hand away from your clit. With your ass clenching so hard around his dick, he can’t hold out any longer, cumming in your ass. He feels the wetness of your squirt push his fingers out, wetting his stomach and making his thrusts just that much easier. 
His orgasm is just as silent, knocking the words right out of him. He can’t even breath, veins in his forehead bulging, face turning red. This one doesn’t last as long, his balls being drained from all the cum he’s shot out in the past hour. Right before Bucky passes out, he sucks in huge gulps of air, trying to come back down to earth. You both lay there, eyes dazed, looking at nothing, covered in cum, lube, and squirt. Neither of you care, you couldn’t even if you tried. You’re the first to speak, voice hoarse from all the screaming you’ve done.
“We’re going to do that again.”
Bucky can only get out one word, “yeah.”
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arlertwhore · 20 days
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader
synopsis: paige is your sneaky link & you wear her jersey to surprise her after a game.
warning (s): smut → dom paige, slightly sub reader, power play, pussy eating, fingering, nipple sucking… etc MINORS DNI
word count: 1.5k
author note: not edited, wrote late at night, and rushed ending kinda.
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Paige Bueckers was NOT your girlfriend. Neither of you even had the bandwidth to focus on romance — her, with an intense basketball career occurring outside of her dynamic with you, and you, an essential slave to your university studies.
That's what made it feel like fate when you guys first met at the Uni New Years Party. Genuinely, you both believed so, and had told one and other that before fervently making out in the washroom that exact night. Granted, you were both insanely drunk, but Paige could recount the story like it was yesterday that she saw you, single, hot, and dancing unbotheredly, though it'd been three months already."Gosh, you were just sooo cute. I was asking KK & all em', 'Who is she? How is she single?' And then they're like 'Oh, she's focused and questioning, not the romantic type,' and I was thinking, 'She's perfect.'"
Despite knowing that Paige and you are not dating, and that she really appreciates your understanding of casual, which is why she's consistently fucking just you, you can't help but feel butterflies when she describes your existence as perfect.
As an athlete, a great one at that, nothing was ever perfect to Paige. Except for you. And shit, whenever you recalled her slew of admirers at your school, on the net, and among her fans, the fact she deemed none of them were worthy of her undivided attention like she had with just you made you spiral.
You loved being her only girl. You loved being the epitome of perfection to Paige Bueckers, UConn's star. Her game tonight, televised, had ran late, and you thought she'd be too exhausted to come over and play, however, after winning, she was fired up and soon sent you a picture of her in an Uber, telling you she was on her way.
Most nights, sometimes early mornings, it was the same routine. She would come over, you would buzz her into the building, let her into your apartment, and she'd shower before fucking you into oblivion whichever way she pleased. It was always fun, varying some nights. This night though, to celebrate UConn's first win of the season, you surprised her by wearing her jersey. 'Bueckers' read the back, '#5'. When you opened the door, Paige was wearing a white shirt, grey sweats, and glasses, her hair in a half-neat, half-disheveled bun. She looked so hot.
You could feel yourself getting wet at the mere sight of her. She was on her phone due to the wait for you to open the door, and she hadn't yet looked up from the gadget as she chided playfully, "Let's start opening this door faster, ma. I waited long enough to get to you all-da—" She stopped; blue eyes fixed upon your body and her jersey and your body in her jersey. You giggled teasingly. "You like it, P?" you asked, guiding her much taller stature into your apartment by the wrist with considerable ease. Paige, who usually held control, was left dumbfounded at the sight of you. "My gosh, baby," she murmured softly, the wrist you'd just been previously holding pulling you closer into her body as the other hand rubbed down your smaller frame, smoothing circles into your lower back until she gripped a handful of your bare ass, making you moan. "Paige!" you whimpered, cheek against cheek, breathlessly. "C'mon, P, play nice with me." you purred sensually. She licked her lips, pleading, "C'mere," her voice low and laced with desperation. You wouldn't listen, though, reveling in your effect on her and how she was breaking, wanting to be in control for once. You buried your face in the curve of her neck, tracing tender kisses along her most sensitive spot, coaxing out heavy, breathless sighs from the taller blonde. Your hands found her hair as you sucked a spot onto her neck, intertwining into it and unraveling her updo as you worked on her, leaving it in disarray.
"Y/N," she exhaled shakily, "Baby, quit that, or I'm not playing nice with you tonight." she warned, tone determined to repossess her dominance. Paige never really called you 'babe,' or 'baby,' — nothing sweet like that. Typically, her nasty mouth — the one that satisfied you and degraded you all at once — was calling you a dirty slut or whore, and when it got intense, she'd make you call your ownself things. She was immensely losing it talking sweetly, and this was a stark reminder.
"Do you want me stop, Paige?" you murmured, pausing briefly only to speak before delving into her neck again, licking a hot stripe up her new purple hickey before nibbling on her ivory skin. Paige suppresses a groan, reducing it to a tiny indelible noise.
"I do," she responds positively, her hands on your waist, smoothing down your ribcage before gently lifting your jersey up until her hands were underneath it. "I don't know if I wanna keep this on you or take it off," she husked conflictedly, kneading your tits.
"You're so fuckin' pretty, angel, you'd look so good both ways." Paige surprised you when her hands fell low again, lifting you up and forcing you to cling to her body as she carried you toward your bedroom. The entire way there, your lips had been pressed against each other's, and though it was risky, you trusted Paige's coordination as an athlete. Before no time, you had made it safely into your bedroom, and she gently placed you down on the mattress before stripping off her white tee.
After discarding of it somewhere amongst the dimly lit room, she slides her body between your legs, pressing her pink lips against yours and her strong knee into your bare bottom half, the friction causing you to whimper into the kiss. Moments later, she pulls away from the kiss briefly and gazes down between you both, inspecting the now dark grey sweatpants for any signs of damage, her mouth slightly agape as she marvels at the sight of your slick that's coated her pants. "You're such a slut," she says in a sultry chuckle, "I can't believe you're this wet for me and I've barely even touched you yet," she breathes out in disbelief.
"I'm your slut, Paige. Touch me," you beg. She slips her fingers inside you, torn between focusing on the way your face contorts in pleasure as she scissors you open or on how effortlessly you accommodate her lengthy digits. She decides on both, using her free hand to push the jersey up before latching onto your nipple and sucking gently, as if she's unsure about how you might respond to the intense pleasure you're experiencing.
She watches you attentively, so beautiful and immersed in pure pleasure, your mouth parted with little gasps falling from your gorgeous lips as Paige presses against the sensitive pad inside your pussy that aligns with your clit on the outside. She ceases sucking. "I want to watch you play with it," she states. You're dazed, out of breath with your head cloudy, and you manage to murmur, "W-what?"
Paige doesn't say anything. She resumes her attention, this time on your left nipple, nibbling gently, and she guides your hand down to your clit with her free hand, assisting you in beginning the circular motions upon it. The stimulation of each pleasure zone on your body has you arching your back, whining out Paige's name in a mantra. "Fuck, P, mmph," you gasp, body on fire, "Please don't stop, mommy, I'm so fucking close." you plead, voice trembling with need. You swear you could hear your heartbeat momentarily, the intensity building to an unbearable crescendo as you teetered on the edge of release. But Paige did say she wouldn't play nice, and she smirks up at you deviously. “Tell P how good she makes you feel,” she commands, her pace slowing to an agonizing speed as she relished in the power dynamic at play. You knew the game she wanted to play; still tinged with the frustration from your earlier encounter where you had taken control.
Too horny to care, you proclaimed, "You make me feel so good, Paige,” voice filled with longing. “I love your fingers so much, yes,” moaning as she gently accelerated, indulging your desires just as you indulged hers: submission, each of you surrendering to the other’s needs, finding pleasure in the delicate balance of power and desire. "Good girl," she praises against your chest. "You're a good fucking slut, right?"
You nodded, "Yours." closing your eyes, unable to keep looking into hers. She looked too good. Paige was fortunate that you were rendered immobile by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. If you could move, you'd pounce on her with an aggressive kiss. Her hair cascades around her shoulders, her glasses still perched on her nose, and that cute appreciative smile she gives you as she nastily, relentlessly fucks her fingers into you sends butterflies swirling in your stomach.
It'd been three months being with Paige and the fact that the golden star of UConn is here, with you, not even an hour after basking in the spotlight of victory, is surreal. She generally was. It was surreal to gaze upon such a stunning girl as you reached the peak of bliss, cries of pleasure mingling with the realization that you were climaxing, hard and long. And through it all, she maintained eye contact, talking you through it, her gaze unwavering. "Cum on my fingers, baby, I want to taste you. I want to see you do it. C'mon," she coaxes, her voice dripping with desire as she urges you on.
You were drowning in her. And soon enough, she was drowning in you, having creamed all over her fingers. Paige pumps thrice more before bringing her fingers to her mouth, her tongue swirling around them as she savored your taste, gaze locking with yours in a dirty exchange of desire. "Tastes as sweet as you are," she remarks, chuckling softly before offering her fingers to you to clean off the rest. "Say ahh," she commands, and you eagerly comply, seeing the benefits of giving into Paige, sticking out your tongue out to allow her to place her fingers into your mouth. "I want them spotless," she demands, her tone filled with authority as you bob your head, licking the remainder of cum off her fingers. "Suck on them," she says, her eyes smoldering with desire as she watches you suscept, eager to fulfill her wishes.
When she's satisfied, she kisses you deeply, her lips igniting a fire within you as you revel in her taste. As she stands up, removing her bottoms, you can't help but admire the sight before yourself. Paige, the girl you were with, had the most exquisite pussy you'd ever seen. You were grateful to be the only girl allowed to experience it, but it truly was a treasure. The harmony and balance of each feature always left you in awe, and you excitedly anticipate the pleasure of eating her out, knowing that it's a demonstration of your complete submission to her. You don't wait. The instant her sweats come off, you yank her by her bra, pulling her onto the bed. There's no time for her to assert dominance as you take control, dropping to your knees below the bed and holding her knees in each hand like they were stirrups.
Her underwear still on, you tease her, licking a stripe against her clothed cunt, tongue flexing at her clit and dampening the spot. "Love this pussy," you groan, voice filled with desire as you used a finger to play against her folds, eliciting a frustrated moan from her. "Stop, Y/N," she pleads, voice scorned with true confliction, torn between the desire to surrender to pleasure and the need to regain control.
"Just wanna hear it once, P," you smirk up at her. "Say please, Number Five." She bites her lip, throwing her head back, causing her glasses to fall off, her bare eyes now locking with yours. It's difficult to maintain your composure under her intense gaze, but you manage, licking another small stripe against her underwear, causing her to jolt. "A-ah, fuck," she moans, trying to close her legs, but you hold them open. "I just wanna make you feel good, Paige, and I can tell you wanna feel good too. Say it."
She exhales, her voice pleading, "Please, Y/N," as she pulls her underwear aside, revealing her glistening pink folds. Your mouth waters. "Can you eat my pussy?" she asks, so politely you wanna kiss her, but you wanna eat her more. She holds her underwear to the side, and you accept the invitation, tongue exploring her wetness with fervor. Her hands flies to your head, something to anchor herself onto as she squirms away from your powerful tongue. You coast her back, however, and suction her clit into her your mouth, moaning into her pussy. Paige isn't a loud girl, but she's having trouble restricting her moans. The scent of her arousal fills the air, driving you wild with desire as you delve deeper, savoring the taste of her essence. As you continue to lavish your attention on her, the intensity of her pleasure builds, her grip on the sheets tightening and knuckles turning white as she writhes beneath you. You feel her body quivering with each flick of your tongue, moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. You spit down onto her, making it sloppy, merely adding as a plus to the rawness of the carnal energy between you two. Her wetness coats your lips and chin, the sound of your movements mingling with her cries of ecstasy. And as you bring her to the brink of release, a tear runs down Paige's face, a testament to the overwhelming intensity of her pleasure. But you don't let up, determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure and beyond. With each lick and suck, you push her closer to the edge, until finally, she shatters beneath me, her body convulsing in waves of bliss as she succumbs to the ecstasy of her climax. The night was far from done. Your jersey was still on, and you still wanted to play.
guys i wrote this because there’s lit no Paige smut on here pls pull thru
Send me req btw!! I’m def considering writing again
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baddiewiththebook · 7 months
Text
ONE OF THE BOYS
-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]
-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!
Part 1 [Part 2]
-> <-
Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.
“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.
You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”
“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”
Right.
Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.
The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.
Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”
You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.
Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.
“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”
“No, no,” you shake your head.
“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”
“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.
The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”
Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.
“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”
“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”
Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.
“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”
“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”
“It’s my skin-,”
“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”
“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.
-> <-
Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.
Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.
“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.
Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.
“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.
They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.
“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.
Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.
And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!
It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.
No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.
Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.
“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.
“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.
“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”
“Really?!”
“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”
“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”
“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”
You nod. “I’ll be there!”
“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”
Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.
Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.
Whatever story floats.
Eddie strums a sour note.
“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.
Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.
You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.
Practice would resume tomorrow.
And you were forever and eternally frustrated.
-> <-
“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”
Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.
That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.
“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”
“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.
“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.
There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.
You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.
Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.
You knew better.
Yet, here you are.
Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.
“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”
You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.
“There’s this boy-,”
“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.
You wave your hands. “Robin!”
“Go on!”
“I just - I want to grow up a little.”
The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.
“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”
Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”
Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.
“The usual, Eddie?”
Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.
Robin snaps back into reality.
“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”
Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”
“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.
Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!
“What? It’s just Eddie!”
Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.
“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.
Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”
“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”
“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”
You brush your dirty t-shirt.
“Robin-,”
“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.
Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.
“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.
Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”
You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.
“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”
“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.
Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.
“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.
The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.
Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.
“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”
“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”
“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”
“Clues and shit?”
“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”
“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.
“It’ll be fun!”
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”
You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.
“How could you do that?” You shame her.
Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.
“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”
“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”
“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”
“Robin!”
“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.
Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.
“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.
Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”
No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.
You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.
“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.
Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.
“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.
You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”
“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”
You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”
Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.
“Hey!” You protest.
She pauses. “Right, put it on.”
“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”
“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”
You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”
“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”
You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.
“Makeup!” Robin insists.
Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.
Lip gloss that tasted like honey-
“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”
You take a spin in the mirror.
“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.
Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”
You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.
Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.
Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.
You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.
You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!
You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.
“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.
You knew it.
“Erm-,”
“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”
Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”
You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?
“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.
“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”
“The guys?” You blurt.
“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”
“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.
In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.
“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”
“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.
A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.
“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”
Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.
She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.
“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.
You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.
A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.
“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”
Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.
“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”
“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”
You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.
“It’s stupid,” you tell him.
Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”
You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.
“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.
Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”
“Really?”
“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”
Your cheeks heat up.
“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”
You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”
He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”
You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Erm- you know.”
“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”
You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.
“We should clean up,” you tell him.
Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”
You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”
“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”
“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”
“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."
"You caught onto that?"
"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."
"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.
"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."
Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.
The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.
Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.
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PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)
Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3
Touch
Miguel O'Hara x reader
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(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist
summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)
warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI
a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best. 
wc: 1.4k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on. 
He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.
"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?" 
He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired." 
"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."
He waves you off with a flick of the wrist.   "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."
"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll. 
You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily? 
It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads. 
His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling. 
"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake." 
You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it. 
"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."
You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek. 
"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips. 
You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up. 
"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.
He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away. 
"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."
"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him. 
"No. Touching."
Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting. 
He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest,  you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact. 
Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss. 
"Mierda. Baby, please-"
"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed." 
"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?" 
"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven. 
You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip. 
"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"
When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds. 
With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them. 
"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"
He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so… 
"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath. 
Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him. 
"Fuck off, Miguel."
"Baby, I'm sor-" 
"Fuck. Off."
Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know. 
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wordstome · 5 months
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kosovo maiden (könig x reader)
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Well, I did it again, gang. I wrote another story based on a painting. This one is by Uroš Predić in 1919, and was posted to Tumblr here (thanks to arcana-imperii for posting!)
I don't know anything about Kosovo, so the reader here isn't explicitly Serbian ;; please forgive me. Also, apologies for possibly inaccurate ambiguously late-1800s setting, medical information or German. Please enjoy!
2.2k words
There are soldiers in the field.
You heard the sounds of battle early in the dawn, the piercing explosions of gunfire and cannons ringing out as the sun rose. You weren’t concerned at first: it was far enough away that you felt safe enough to carry on as usual. But the gunfire drew closer and closer, and by noon you could hear the shouting and the battle cries, driving you trembling into your attic with terror. Mercifully, the fighting peters out as the sun sinks lower in the sky, but when you finally work up the nerve to peek out of your window, you find to your horror that the grassy field adjacent to your humble little home is littered with the bodies of dead and dying men.
Without a single further thought to your own safety, you grab a lantern and a pitcher of water and rush into the night.
It’s awful. Most of the men left behind are already cold, some whose eyes you have to shut yourself. The ones who were able to be saved were likely evacuated by their comrades, so the only ones left to face the cruel nighttime are the ones who won’t see the morning after. A few are still conscious when you find them, but you have little more to offer them than a gentle touch and one last drink of water. Their eyes are what will haunt you most after today: slick with tears as grown men weep, all semblance of courage and proud masculinity stripped from them as they face down their imminent demise. It’s terrible, heart-wrenching, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. You’re the only living thing left that can offer them comfort in their last moments.
The jug of water dangles from your hand as you trudge through the field, looking for anyone at all that you can provide help to. You’ve long abandoned any hope of finding someone you can save when you come across him: the giant in the grass.
It’s well and truly nighttime at that point, your lamp the only source of light upon what seems like a sea of human misery. The light hits his face, and you gasp. Your first thought is of how huge he is, at least 200 centimeters if he were standing. Your second thought is of how handsome he is…
You jolt to attention as he shifts and groans. He’s alive! Shaking some sense into yourself, you don’t hesitate to rush to his side. Your hands roam across his body, assessing the severity of his injuries. To your surprise, he doesn’t seem to be mortally injured. They’re severe, to be sure—he won’t be able-bodied for weeks. But he’s far from at death’s door, only confused and dazed…had his comrades only left him due to his sheer size?
Using your hand to support the back of his head and neck, you tip some water into his mouth in an attempt to revive him. The man cracks an eye open, regarding you with feverish wonder.
“Ein Engel…” he murmurs. You’re too elated that he’s alive, so you don’t actually properly hear what he said. With light, deft fingers, you tear strips of his tattered shirt and use the cloth to wrap up a scrape on his arm and stem the flow of a very nasty-looking wound up along the broad plane of his torso. To your alarm, however, the man seems to slump, his head laying back as if he’s about to lose consciousness.
“No, no,” you cry in panic, shaking him without heed of his injuries. “Sir, you cannot sleep here, I am unable to carry you…you will die out here!”
He mumbles something inaudible, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn’t passed out on you yet, but you have to act quickly to properly care for his wounds. You shift your body so you can maneuver his uninjured arm onto your shoulders. Luckily, he seems to comprehend what you’re trying to do, and manages to stumble to his feet while leaning his weight on you.
It’s an awkward, fumbling dance, considering your earlier assessment of his height was correct—he’s a huge man, and his torso alone nearly dwarfs your entire figure. But with a good measure of patience, you manage to get him moving towards your house. It’s high time you returned home, as well: your stomach roils as you remember what happens to corpses left outside for scavengers to find.
The two of you stumble through the doorway of your home, you murmuring soft affirmations and encouragement to the man. He makes no indication that he understands what you’re saying, but he’s nodding along, responding to your gentle tone. You guide him to lay on your bed, his body visibly relaxing as he sinks into the mattress.
You bustle around, lighting candles, stoking your fireplace, and rummaging around for medical supplies. You return to him with a basin of warm water, a cloth, and some bandages—before stopping dead in your tracks.
In the low lamplight out in the field, you hadn’t noticed the color of the man’s uniform, much too preoccupied with his signs of life. But now the truth is laid bare in front of you as you take in his attire, eyes traveling over his broad body—
You’ve just taken in an enemy soldier.
The man has seemingly fallen asleep, likely exhausted by the battle and the effort it took to get into your home. That does nothing to assuage your fear, though: what are you going to do if he passes away right in your bed? Even worse, what are you going to do if he wakes? Will he be hostile? Will he attempt to take you as a hostage to secure safe passage out of his enemy’s territory?
It's clear to you, though, that if you don’t help this man, he will die. His wounds could easily turn septic, and then he’s a goner. You steel yourself and approach him, kneeling at his bedside.
You work slowly and carefully to reveal his injuries, wincing when they’re completely exposed. He’s no longer bleeding profusely, but he will absolutely need stitches. For now, you settle for cleaning them with a damp cloth, trying to keep infection at bay.
He must be well and truly knocked out, because he doesn’t even stir as you wrap his arm securely with clean bandages. You’re much more hesitant to deal with his chest wound: if he wakes and struggles, he could make it much worse. But his unconscious state affords you the best opportunity to stitch him up…
You furrow your brow and go to find a needle.
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You’re awoken by a gentle touch on the shoulder.
You stir from your sleep, wondering what your mother could possibly want at such an early hour. At least she put the fire on—you can hear the crackling. But why is your bed so hard? Did you fall asleep on the floor? Actually, now that you think about it, you do recall dozing off on your sheepskin rug last night, because—
Your eyes shoot open to see a huge, hulking figure standing over you.
The soldier startles when you scream, scrambling to move away from him. He cuts an intimidating figure in the early morning light: he towers over you in a state of undress, the bandages you put on him last night splotched with rusty dried blood. But you calm down as you realize he means you no harm, his hands outstretched in front of him as a show of peace: no weapons.
“Wo bin ich?” he asks. You squint at him. That sounds like German, but you can’t speak a word of it.
“I don’t speak German,” you try. He tilts his head, looking as puzzled as you feel right now.
“Never mind all of that,” you say, shaking your head and pushing yourself to your feet. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!” The soldier watches with amusement as you press your hands against him, careful to avoid touching his chest where you know his wound lies, in an attempt to get him back into bed. He allows you to do so, lying back down like an obedient dog.
“Muste pissen,” he murmurs as you fuss over him. You shoot him another confused look as you check the stitches you put in his chest wound. All seems well, you note with relief.
“What?”
He huffs a sigh. He gestures towards the door, and then then to his…oh.
“I see,” you say, cheeks feeling hot. You can’t bear to look at his face, but when you do, you find he’s watching you with amusement.
You tap his chest with a finger, then mime a sewing motion. “Don’t get up on your own from now on, you could tear your stitches,” you tell him, pointing to the door and then to patting your own chest. “I’ll help you.”
He snorts, but nods. You start to unfurl the bandages on his arm, heart twinging with sympathy as he grits his teeth in pain. You bite your lip in chagrin as the wound is revealed. It was much less severe than the one on his chest, but it’s doing much worse: pus and fluids are leaking everywhere, and to your horror, you think some parts of the torn flesh might actually be turning green.
“Es sieht schlecht aus?” he asks, concerned. You put on a smile you hope is comforting and rise from his bedside to go downstairs and rummage through your cupboards.
You return to him holding a bottle of liquor, the strongest you could find. He seems to realize what you intend to do, and shifts slightly to allow you better access to his arm.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper to him. “This is going to hurt.” Without further warning, you dump a good amount of alcohol on his wound.
“SCHEIẞE!” The bellow of pain that rips out of his throat seems to shake the very foundations of your home. You wince as he hollers and lays back heavy against your poor little bed, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat. That can’t have been pleasant…
“Das tat schlimmer weh, als die verdammte Wunde überhaupt zu bekommen,” he grits. You give him a sympathetic little pat before withdrawing to get the bandages.
He’s calmed down by the time you return to him. He watches you curiously as you wrap him up nice and snug, then turn your attentions to his chest wound. The stitches are still in place—it seems he was careful when he relieved himself—but you still need to clean and dress the wound. He lets out a sigh of relief when you opt for a clean cloth to dab away the dried blood instead of the liquor bottle.
You work quickly and efficiently, worried about him catching a cold with his chest out like this. You also can’t deny that the whole situation is starting to make you a bit shy—a foreign man, and an attractive one at that, is in your bed, shirtless, and you’re all but sprawled out on top of him to get up close to his injury. By the time you’re done, you’re fully blushing at the closeness of the contact between the two of you.
“You should be alright, it’s a good sign that you lasted through the night and haven’t developed a fever yet,” you tell him as you gather up the soiled bandages to be washed. “You’ll need to stay in bed so I can keep an eye on you—”
You’re drawn up short when you look up to see his face. Far from the angry scowl he wore when you disinfected his wound, his expression now is almost…admiring? You shift slightly, caught off guard by the adoration in this stranger’s stare, and your arm brushes against something solid and warm.
You stand up as if burned, turning to see what you just touched. To your chagrin, you find that the soldier is…well, he’s hard.
You whirl around to fix him with an outraged look, but he only laughs at you with obvious delight. What a pervert! You’re so flustered you don’t know what to do or where to look, but you’re stopped by the sensation of him reaching up and pressing a hand to your face.
You stare at him, wide-eyed, as he strokes your cheek with a sort of reverence that stops you in your tracks. “Mein Retter…” he murmurs. “Entschuldigung. Ich konnte nicht anders.”
You huff, recognizing that he’s trying to apologize. “You don’t act like an injured man at all,” you complain. A spark of mirth comes into his eye at your pouting tone as he just chuckles at you. You turn to walk away, yelping when you feel his hand brush against your bottom. You shoot him with a deadly look as he laughs again.
You scurry away, feeling awkward and hot all over. You had been so concerned last night about whether you should stay in the same house as the potentially dangerous soldier, pacing the floor and biting your nails as you pondered whether you should give him up to the local authorities. In hindsight, you’re glad you didn’t—they would surely have locked him in a cold cell with nobody to look after that festering gash on his shoulder, to say nothing of his chest wound. It was worth it to risk waking up to a man angry and spitting hatred at you, if you could save his life.
But now you’re realizing that you hadn’t considered the opposite possibility: that the soldier might like you a little too much.
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ein Engel = an angel Wo bin ich? = Where am I? Muste pissen = had to piss Es sieht schlecht aus? = Is it bad? Scheiße = shit Das tat schlimmer weh, als die verdammte Wunde überhaupt zu bekommen = That hurt worse than getting the damn wound in the first place Mein Retter = my savior Entschuldigung. Ich konnte nicht anders = I'm sorry. I couldn't help it
Once more, I wrote this in a frenzy akin to being possessed, so it's a little short. But there will definitely be more! Thank you for reading <3
@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely
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leclerced · 6 months
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dirty little secret | mv1
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summary: based on this request, max is dating his rival/best friend charles's younger sister and loses the no nut november bet he made
warnings: 18+ minors dni unprotected sex. wrap your willy before you get silly!
author's note: i actually kind of hate sibling pairings usually, but i woke up three hours ago and accidentally created a mini universe around this idea and i am in love with it? i wrote 4k+ and this is 1.8k of it, let me know if you'd like to see more of peach and max. requests are open!
masterlist
This was a dangerous game they were playing. Peach had flown out for the last few races of the season to support her brother and her secret boyfriend. She hated that they made this bet a week before, that she hadn’t taken him completely seriously when they were facetiming and he said he wasn’t going to fuck her the entire month of November when she joined them for the last month of the season. He said he didn’t want to get caught, and they’d already gone so long, one more month wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it was No Nut November and he’d already agreed to do it with Lando and Charles. She scowled at the mention of her brother and changed the subject, forgetting about it until she snuck into his hotel room that night and he told her he was serious. They made out and dry humped for an hour while she reasoned with him then begged him to fuck her.
Max could have fucked her when she flew in on Halloween, but he didn’t want to be slow and gentle. He wanted to grip her hips, choke her, spank her, leave bruises all over her body. And he couldn’t do that when they would be seeing his brother first thing in the morning for breakfast. He was going to wait until they were back in Monaco and he could hole her up in his penthouse and have his way with her without anyone to see the marks he left on her. It helped that Lando had drunkenly proposed they do no nut November since they were all single, and there was no way he was going to tell Lando the reason he couldn’t was because he had a secret girlfriend. Lando and Charles were gossips, and wouldn't stop interrogating him until he gave in and admitted who he'd been screwing.
The first few days were fine, she tried convincing him to touch her, to fuck her, but he'd just kiss her while rocking his hips against hers until he felt like he was going to burst if he didn't stop, then he'd roll off of her, or push her off him and fall right asleep. She'd toss and turn with the uncomfortable heat between her legs until she fell asleep. They made it all the way until Vegas before she got him inside of her. They'd gone out celebrating another record breaking win of his, and he'd gotten lost in the feeling of her lips on his as she drunkenly stripped them both down back in their hotel room. She was on top of him and he'd forgotten about the bet until she slipped him inside of her for the first time in months and sighed into his mouth. He'd frozen, a moan trapped in his throat as he tried to ground himself when she began rocking her hips against him. She wanted to cry when he rolled them over, relieved that he was going to take over and fuck her like she'd been craving. But he just kissed her slowly and stayed completely still. She tried rolling her hips into his but he gripped her hips with a bruising forced and pushed her hips into the bed, "Stop. Don't fucking move or I'll pull out."
She whined, tears welling up in her eyes, "Maxie," she slurred his name painfully, "Maxie, please, please, I need it."
He pressed his face into her neck and shook his head, "We have eleven fucking days left. You can wait." She whimpered and he felt her fluttering around him as he kissed her neck. "Just go to sleep, peach." She sighed and sniffled, and he pulled back to see tears rolling down her temples from the corners of her eyes. He kissed them away and cupped her cheeks in his hands, "You can be good for me, can't you schatz?" She nodded wordlessly as his lips brushed her cheek and he murmered, "You're always so good for me, pet." It took her an hour to fall asleep around him as he pressed kisses into her skin the entire time trying to relax her, but it was pure torture that she couldn't bare asking him to stop.
They slept like that for the next week, him finding a way to slip inside of her and lock her in his arms so she couldn't slip away in the middle of the night. They'd wake up sore and uncomfortable from not moving all night, even in their sleep they couldn't stop touching each other. He thought they would make it until a week later he woke up to her rocking back against him and he could feel his orgasm bubbling in his stomach. He tightened his grip on her to still her and bearily hissed, "Stop moving." She squirmed in his arms and didn't respond other than a sigh as his tighter grip pulled her impossibly closer. Max blinked his eyes open and felt how relaxed she was against him, her body was limp in his arms as he pulled his face away from where he'd buried his face in her back. She was still asleep as she fucked himself on his cock. He groaned as he untangled his arms and rolled away from her, pushing her onto her stomach as he rolled onto his back.
He was counting his breaths, had just hit ten when she shifted next to him. Her arm pulled out from underneath her stomach and she blindly reached out to him. her hand hit his stomach, right next to his aching cock and she froze as he fingers touched the puddle of precum on his stomach. "Don't touch me." he hissed as she turned her head to him. She licked her lips as she sleepily fluttered her eyelashes at him and took in the sight in front of her. Her fingers dragged through the mess and she teasedingly murmered why not? as she pulled her hand to her mouth, lips parting so she could suck her wet fingers into her mouth. He swiftly inhaled through his nose as he watched her hollow her cheeks around her fingers. "I'm going to cum if you do."
She sighed at the taste on her tongue and sucked her finger tips clean before she removed them and mumbled "Miss the way you taste." His cock twitched and he rubbed his face as he groaned, he was so close to cumming, the words almost did him in. He felt her fingers run across his stomach again, collecting more of his cum to taste, he assumed. He opened his eyes again just in time to see her hand slip from her lips a second time then retreat beneath her body and her eyes flutter shut as she gasped, "Fuck, Maxie, I miss the way you feel. 'M so wet for you." He watched as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in a sigh, and he realized she'd started touching herself. He felt his resolve crumble at the realization, at the sound of her sighing his name as she arched her back.
Max couldn't stop himself as he pushed himself up and crawled on top of her, trapping her legs on either side of his as he straddled her. He bit his lip at the sight of her glistening cunt, her fingers already soaked as she ran them through her lips and circled her clit for him, putting on a show now that he was behind her and watching. He didn't say anything as he lined up with her entrance and slowly pushed back inside. She expected him to stop when he bottomed out, but he began fucking her at that agonizingly slow pace as she swirled her fingers around her clit. She wasn't going to last, she had been dreaming about fucking him and woke up feeling her clit throbbing between her legs. She felt so good like this, still half asleep and drunk on pleasure, her entire body was sending waves of pleasure to her brain and she wanted to spend the rest of her life like this.
It only got better when he leaned down and pressed his chest to her back as he kissed her shoulder. Max could hear her breathing quickening as his lips kissed her skin and his hands roamed her body, squeezing her hips and ass before slipping under her body to grasp at her bare breasts. He was trying so hard not to cum the moment he slipped back inside her, he just needed to push her over the edge so he could feel her gushing around him and he would fall apart with her. He quickened his pace a bit, needing to feel her cum around him as soon as possible, and pulled her hips up to meet his. The newfound urgency in his thrusts and his cock hitting that spongy spot inside her made her mind spin as she suddenly cried, "There, right there, 'm gonna-" her words were cut off by a moan as she shuddered beneath him and he felt her release around him. It was a domino effect, as soon as his cock felt her clenching around him he froze in place, teeth sinking into her shoulder as he finally came.
She writhed beneath him, rocking her hips back into him as much as she could with his weight on her. She loved the feeling of him releasing inside her, it made her orgasm hit her even harder than she thought as she sloppily rubbed at her clit. She couldn't make up her mind, her fingers stilling because she was too sensitive, then circling the over sensitive bud because she needed to feel herself clench around him again to make his cock twitch inside her as it dripped more cum.
Neither of them said anything for a long while, he kissed the bite mark he'd left on her shoulder then rested his cheek on her back while they caught their breath. "Couldn't last four more days, huh?" She finally teased and he laughed.
"Woke up to you fucking yourself on me, can't blame me. Almost came when I woke up, barely stopped myself."
She whined and he felrt her clench around him at his words, "You should have just fucked me awake. Rude of you not to wake me up by filling me."
He groaned and pressed his face into her warm, soft skin. "You're going to get me killed." She giggled as the bet he'd made with her brother and their friend resurfanced in her mind.
"Guess this means you lose. Can I tell Charlie?" She was teasing him again, he knew it, but it made him nervous.
Max stiffened on top of her, "No. No. You are not telling your brother. We are not going public by saying you made me lose this fucking bet."
She giggled gleefully and reached back to curl her fingers into his hair, "Better shut me up then, if you wanna keep me your dirty little secret."
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onlyseokmins · 8 months
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babymaker • c.s.c
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Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah
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Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.
Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor. 
University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits. 
Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement. 
You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror. 
Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.
"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.
"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way." 
"Of course, as long as it's convenient."
"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.
You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom. 
All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"
Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?
Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."  
"You're a busy man."
"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."
"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."
"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."
"Yeah, okay."
While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum. 
"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."
"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.
"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea. 
Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.
"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"
And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 
This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?
Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!
It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.
When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.
You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.
The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened. 
Safety. Security. Seungcheol.
Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.
And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.
Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.
You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile. 
Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.
Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal. 
He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.
You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.
It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop. 
When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.
And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more. 
These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair. 
He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.
So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only. 
The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.
Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.
The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for. 
But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.
"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."
What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.
But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?
Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man. 
Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.
"Kiss me."
And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.
"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."
"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.
"Not like that, up."
Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.
This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.
"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind. 
Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.
"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"
"No… s-sorry."
"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"
Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.
"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."
"Most times, not."
"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"
The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.
He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.
So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt. 
When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.
He waits for you to surrender.  
Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.
Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"
It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.
"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."
"Thought you'd never ask."
No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"
It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.
"Bullshit."
"Bet."
"You love it when people stare at you." 
There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."
"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."
Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.
"What?" 
"You like me, don't you?"
It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "
"Forget about my cock for a bit." 
"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home. 
Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."
"… Alright."
"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "
"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"
Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."
"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."
"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"
The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.
"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."
"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."
He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.
Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"
"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "
Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."
"Wh-what?"
"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you." 
Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."
"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."
"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."
He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."
"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."
"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?" 
"Yeah… because you love me!"
There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.
"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."
Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin. 
You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."
"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"
"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"
"'Cause you never clean."
"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."
"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."
"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"
"… Six months."
Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"
"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"
"Oh yes, because that's the point here."
"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."
All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"
"Do… do you not like it?"
"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."
"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "
"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"
A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."
"Choi Seungcheol."
"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."
It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp. 
"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"
"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?" 
Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.
"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."
"You're so sappy, what the heck."
"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."
"Testing?"
"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"
You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."
"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"
"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.
But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.
Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.
"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."
"So that's what you meant by test…" 
The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.
It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."
And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.
Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement. 
Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.
He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before. 
But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.
"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.
The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.
A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.
You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"
"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"
"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."
"Oh? And how so? What for?"
"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.
"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."
"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…" 
"You don't sound sorry." 
Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.
Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions. 
He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"
"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."
"Brat."
"You love me." 
"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."
You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."
"I'm never mean to you."
"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."
"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."
"Wha — ?"
The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.
He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.
"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."
"Mmph, ah… only yours!"
No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white. 
It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.
But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are. 
"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."
"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."
"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."
"Jus' want, just want your dick."
"I know, baby."
Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.
"No!"
In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside. 
He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."
A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.
"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."
Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.
"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat. 
"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."
"Yeah, all yours, baby."
Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure. 
That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness. 
The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.
"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"
"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"
"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."
A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips. 
You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own. 
He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.
"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.
"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"
"I'm serious. I love you."
"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."
He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."
"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."
Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"
"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."
"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."
You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"
"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."
"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."
"Love you too." 
"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return. 
"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"
You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.
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onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©
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