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#THEN and only THEN can I listen to 'Feel Special' by TWICE
mrfoox · 1 year
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.... I feel bad bc my friend is sad ) :
#miranda talking shit#I feel a bit guilty too... I think thabks to my meds i am taking this better than normal but yeah#Fabian and me have only like spoken twice over the past month or two? Which is not much#Considering we have basically talked almost daily for years (a minimum at once per week) ...#The irony is that he implied that he was too big of an part of my life before we had this ... Break#... But as far as i know the few friends he have... Are the ones we have in common. Two irl friends . And me#Hes .... Been feeling lonely. He is now. He wants to talk to people etc and im like ): ...#I... Like oliver said 'i think fabian takes solitude a lot harder than you do. He does mind being alone' and yeah...#I think i may have unintentionally made him rely on me rather hard for socializing... For years hes basically only been in my social 'hot'#Zone. And now he have ended up in my 'cold' zone for the first time for this long... Like oliver said i dont mind solitude.#I grew up playing pretend on my own 80% of my time at home. Now i can get in isolation periods where im focusing on a video game#And literally not... Talk to anyone for a month or more. Then i talk to someone again and i realize i had been lacking social time but i#Dont actively... Feel it. I only get lonely at night badly id like to share bed with someone. But ... Yeah. Fabian is probably used to#Getting all this attention from me constantly and now im... Not providing it. Bc im focusing on other people socially...#I said im glad he shared feeling lonely with me and that i am here for him etc but...#I feel like ive failed him. Is failing him. Idk... I know its not my fault and so on but... My social... Functions have many downsides#I probably make people feel very special. I love to listen and ask about everything and encourage them and such. But then i can just stop#Talking for a long period of time and its .... Its never intentional but its how ive always been. Its why ive always kept to having like 3#Friends up until becoming an adult and now jts... Its hard. I love many people and i want to give them as much of me as possible at a time#So instead of dividing myself to everyone always... I give one or two people all my attention at a time
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just-jordie-things · 8 months
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if you look, you can tell - fushiguro megumi
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word count: 6k warnings: swearing, i think that’s it summary: megumi finds himself eavesdropping a conversation between the rest of his classmates when he hears his name pop up.  the way you jump to his defense and have only sweet things to say about him has him second guessing the way he feels about you. ___
“It just doesn’t really make sense to me.  I get you guys are friends and all, but how can someone like you be friends with someone so…. Cold?”
Megumi was never really one for eavesdropping.  Not only because it was immature and would only cause drama, but because he’d never really felt a need to.  He can’t recall a conversation he’d ever stumbled upon that he deemed interesting enough to listen in on.  In fact, he’d rather find that everyone else was busy with conversation so he could slip out and do his own thing unnoticed.  A habit he’d picked up in his younger years when he still shared a living space with the white haired special grade sorcerer.
But for some reason, right now was different.
Maybe it was because he was the topic of conversation.  Maybe because Itadori, Kugisaki, and (y/n) were the ones around the corner.  Or maybe it was because something tugged on his heart strings when he heard Nobara’s admission.
He was headed to the common room to retrieve the book he’d left in there this morning, and hadn’t even realized all three of his classmates had the evening off from training and assignments.  He’d heard that they were talking as he’d approached, but didn’t halt in his steps until he realized they were talking about him.
“I think he can be nice,” Itadori defended weakly.  “I mean… I just met him, I guess,” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, realizing he didn’t actually have much evidence to back up his statement.  But he was too nice of a guy to straight up gossip about his new classmate.  “Maybe he’s just quiet?” 
(y/n) nodded thoughtfully, knowing this to be true.  She figured she knew him better than the two newbies, and that was why they’d come to her with their curiosities about the stoic shikigami user.  Having been born and raised in Tokyo, she’d been introduced to Megumi long before they enrolled at Jujutsu Tech.  Although their friendship hadn’t truly sparked until their enrollment, she’d known him enough to understand him, his mannerisms, his fighting style, his strict routine- all of these things that she’d never really thought twice about before, she now realized sort of made her the on site Megumi- Expert.  She even chuckled a little bit at the thought.
Because back then, back when she first met the grumpy boy that was thrust before her by one Gojo Satoru, with an eager grin and the promise of “Look Megs, a friend your age!” She would have never thought she’d be in this position now.
“Megumi has always been reserved” She agrees to Itadori’s comment, but her voice is distant, clouded with something else as her mind grows too occupied.
It took some time after their first meeting for Megumi to grow on her.  Understandably, because he wasn’t exactly looking to grow on her.  He wasn’t looking for friends his age- he wasn’t looking for friends at all, really.  Whatever disease that had riddled his guardian’s mind in order to have him setting up playdates with this girl must have been fatal.  Or at least he’d hoped.
Time and time again she was dropped off at the Gojo-Fushiguro residence, or at the park where they were expected to play.  Time and time again Megumi barely spoke, barely looked at her, and hoped his blatant disinterest would be enough to deter Gojo from setting up anymore of the stupid playdates.
And honestly, (y/n) never really knew when that changed, or understood why it changed.  Her lip was caught between her teeth now as she thought it over, trying to trace back her steps to find the point in time where their acquaintanceship blossomed into true friendship, which she could confidently call their relationship now.
“Yeah, does he ever let anyone in?” Nobara scoffed, but she didn’t mean for it to come across as harsh as it sounded.  She had just felt awkward whenever she was around the raven haired boy, not knowing how to fill the silence as easily as Itadori.  “It just doesn’t make sense to me,”
From where he stood around the corner, Megumi slumped against the wall.  This is when he should have walked away, and forgotten he’d ever heard anything.  He shouldn’t have cared what they were saying about him, and he shouldn’t have been surprised that the new students didn’t feel buddy-buddy with him.  But there was some invisible force keeping him firmly in place, and intrigue won over logic in his mind as he waited to hear the rest of the conversation.
“I get you guys are friends and all, but how can someone like you be friends with someone so…” Nobara trailed off, and Megumi felt his heart drop to his stomach.  
He shouldn’t care.  This shouldn’t matter.  But then Nobara finally found the word she was looking for, and Megumi had never felt an ache in his chest quite like this before.
“Cold?”
Cold? His mind clung onto the word, picking it apart viciously.  Is that really what everyone thought of him? Is that really the image of himself everyone perceived? Again, he supposed he wasn’t the most expressive person, it wasn’t like he expected them to be singing his praises, but he certainly hadn’t expected that.
Before he could convince himself that he was being silly, he found himself frowning.  Never before had he cared what anyone thought.  As someone who actively kept people at arm's length, Megumi couldn’t think of a time he ever thought twice about someone else’s opinion of him.
And just as he’s ready to scoff and walk away, forgetting his book once more and deciding to never think about this moment of weakness again.
But then (y/n’s) speaking up.
“Cold?” She repeats the word, and Megumi stops in his tracks again at the tone of voice she takes.  His brows furrow and he’s leaning against the wall again, trying to decipher what the emotion that riddled her tone was.  Anger? He wondered, puzzled.  Humor? 
Raising from his stomach like it had been brought back to life, his heart stutters in his chest.
“Megumi’s anything but cold,” (y/n) argues, in that same tone of voice that he’d never heard before.  She follows it with a chuckle that sounds anything but humored.  “He’s the warmest person I know” 
Really? Megumi almost laughs to himself before remembering he was trying to stay hidden.
“Really?” Nobara gapes back at her, and (y/n) nods furiously.
“Absolutely,” She declares, firm in her stance.  “I’ve never met anyone like him.  He’s one of the kindest, most caring people I’ve ever known, you just have to know him, I suppose,” 
Honestly, hearing her argument, Megumi’s not all that sure what she’s talking about.  But he continues to hover in the hallway, now dying to know more.
“Megumi’s not like everyone else,” (y/n) says, her voice softening as she tries to explain her old friend’s habits to her new friends.  “He’s quiet, yeah, he’s always been that way.  But he’s not cold.  He’s quite the opposite.  He… he has a really big heart…” She trails off, chuckling to herself a bit.
I don’t know about that, Megumi thought bitterly, only for his face to heat up at such a sweet accusation.
“He probably wouldn’t say the same,” (y/n) speaks his thoughts exactly.  “But it’s true.  Megumi shows he cares through actions, not words” 
“Ohh..” Nobara and Yuuji spoke in unison.
(y/n) giggled a bit at the both of them.
“He’ll grow on you,” She tells them kindly.  “It takes time, but… Megumi’s one of the greatest friends anyone could ask for.  I’m certainly lucky to have him in my life” 
If Megumi wasn’t blushing before, he certainly was now.  Even though no one was around to see, he found himself tucking his face into the collar of his jacket to hide the way his cheeks flushed with color at her openly affectionate words.
“Wow, (y/n), that’s really sweet,” Yuuji cooed.  “You must be very close, how long have you known each other?” 
“Well, a while,” (y/n) thought it over.  “Gojo tried to set us up as best friends when we were younger.  But I wouldn’t say it really worked till a year or so ago.  But I mean what I said, I respect him a lot.  He’s a really good person,” 
Really? Megumi smiled to himself at such a blatant lie.  She would think that.
“He always helps me when I need it, especially when it comes to training, or studying,” (y/n) goes on to explain.
Well, he supposed that was true.  But he just wanted her to excel in their field, she had so much potential, it was only right to help her when she needed it.
“And he is kind of a secret gentleman,” She goes on, dropping her voice as though sharing a secret.  “Even before we were close, he’d carry my things for me, or open the door, pull out my chair…” She trails off as she recalls all the instances.
Megumi nodded to himself, confirming that she was telling the truth.  But that was just the right thing to do, Gojo had raised him right in that area, after all.  You treat women with respect, but he also believed in treating people the way he wanted to be treated.  Those two things seemed to overlap when it came to her.  So again, he realized that (y/n) was right about him.  He was starting to wonder if she knew him better than he gave her credit for.  Or even better than he knew himself.
“There was one time when we were younger…” She smiles at the memory.  “We stole a cookie out of Gojo’s stash, he broke it in half for us, and then gave me the bigger piece” 
Nobara and Yuuji take note of the way her eyes glaze over with fondness as she remembers the day.  They hadn’t even been friends yet, it was one of the instances where she was dropped off and left with him for hours in the hopes of the two of them becoming friends.  In fact, that particular day, she’d spent most of the time flipping through magazines with Tsumiki.  Thinking about it now, however, (y/n) wonders if that was the first bridge between them.  The uneven halves of a chocolate chip cookie being a shared secret from the white haired man knocked out on the living room couch.  She makes the mental note to ask Megumi if he remembers it that way.
“Aww!” Nobara clasps her hands together as she fawns over the simple memory.  (y/n) can’t help but laugh a little at the way her classmates treat Megumi’s soft side.  “He must’ve had a ‘widdle crush on you!” She teases in a cartoonish voice.
Megumi’s eyes widened upon hearing the declaration.  Had he come across that way? His heartbeat picked up with anxiety, and he worried about what (y/n) would have to say next.
Because he certainly didn’t have a crush on her.  All those nice things he did for her, he did because they were friends, they were all things friends would do, right? Helping her with training, carrying her bag when she complained about her back hurting, cooking her dinner when she said she hadn’t eaten all day, taking her to that movie she wanted to see even though he thought it was predictable and cheesy- Megumi was sure that was just being a good friend.  Whether or not he wanted to do those things for her was out of the question.  
Just as she’d said- he showed he cared through actions.
Nevermind what he thought.  Nevermind if she was the prettiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.  Nevermind if she had the kindest heart he ever had the pleasure- or luck- of meeting.  Nevermind if she proved time and time again that she was the most wonderful person through and through- 
Megumi thought he was going to throw up just thinking about it.  But he couldn’t help himself.  He thinks about her most hours of the day, he realizes now.  He waits for her to text him back, he wonders what she’s doing when he’s not around, tons of things reminded him of her.  That flower she pointed out in the garden, anything that was her favorite color, when it rained, when the sun was shining, hell, even his own shikigami made her cross his mind.
Fuck.
He shakes his head as he tries to ground himself back to reality.  None of that was really evidence of him having deeper feelings for her though, was it? He could care about her strongly as a friend, couldn’t he? How stereotypical was he for second guessing himself as soon as he cared about his friend who was a girl.  A pretty girl.  They were capable of being friends without romantic tension.
But then again, if she were to make a move, he wouldn’t exactly push her away, would he? 
His face feels impossibly hotter at the question he raised to himself.  What a tricky answer that was, indeed.  The gears in his brain began to malfunction and break down over how simple the answer that came to him was.
“I don’t know about that…” (y/n’s) voice softens as she trails off.
Something unfamiliar bubbles up in Megumi’s stomach.  It feels like he’s eaten too many sweets and washed it down with pure alcohol.  It’s bubbly, and sickeningly sweet.  It makes the tips of his fingers buzz and the corners of his lips tug into an uncontrollable smile.  He’s not sure if he hates the feeling or wants to chase after it.
“Well, you should ask him out!” Yuuji cheers.
“Wh- what?” (y/n) stammers back.
“I bet he’d say yes,” The pink haired boy says with a bright smile of affirmation.  “You’re definitely his favorite, and he stares at you a lot” 
I do?
“He does?” (y/n) asks, sounding a little breathless.  
Was she surprised? Horrified? Megumi couldn’t tell.  He was dying to see the look on her face, so he could get a proper read on how she was processing all of this.
“Oh yeah.  I see him staring at you all the time” Yuuji confirms.
“Me too” Nobara chimes in.
“Honestly, I thought you guys were dating when I first got here” Yuuji adds.
He did?
“You did?” (y/n) can’t help the small chuckle that comes out of her.  “Why?” 
“Dunno,” Yuuji shrugs.  “He stands close to you.  And most of the time when he talks it’s just to you.  I just thought it was flirting” 
No you idiot, I just don’t need anyone eavesdropping on- oh… Megumi drags his hand over his face, tugging on his skin as his eyes roll back.  Fuck, he was the biggest idiot on the planet.
Of course he had a crush on her.  How long had he not noticed? Or had it always been there? 
(y/n’s) giggling pulls him out of his train of thoughts.  Cute and bubbly, he can tell from their sound that she’s shaking her head in disbelief.
“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong,” She tries to deter her new friends from going down that path, but her voice has that same soft and sweet tone that Megumi hopes he’s not reading into when he thinks she’s hopeful that they could have it all right.  “We’ve known each other for a while.  I think if something were to happen it would’ve happened already” 
It’s quiet for a beat, and Megumi’s heart is pounding so hard in his chest now he can feel it in his ears.  It’s upsetting and distracting, as he’s dying to hear more of this conversation.  He worries he might’ve picked up a real knack for spying, but he can’t think of anything more interesting than this.
“You say that like you want something to happen,” Nobara teases.  “Are you the one with a crush?” 
With every second that passes before (y/n’s) response, Megumi frets he’s going to pass out.  He’s sure his body is going to hit the ground giving away his embarrassing eavesdropping.
“I…” (y/n) starts but trails off.  Megumi wishes he could peek around the wall and watch the scene unfold.  He’s sure that if he could see her, he could deduce her answer for himself.
If she was fidgeting, then he could confirm that she did, in fact, harbor a crush on him.
If she was standing still out of shock from the idea, then he’d know she thought the idea was preposterous, and there wasn’t a chance she felt anything more for him.
“I haven’t thought about it” She finishes quietly.
There’s some shuffling of feet and a distant hmmph from Nobara’s disbelief, or intrigue, maybe.  Either way, the conversation must’ve been done.  Yuuji was shouting goodbyes as he left the room to meet up with Maki for rigorous training.  Nobara followed suit shortly after, claiming she had nothing better to do so watching Maki train was the perfect way to spend her afternoon.
(y/n) laughed and waved goodbye to her friends.  Once they were out of sight she let out a shaky exhale.
Jesus, that was close, she thought as she finally made her way to the couch, ready to collapse and relax.  Her heart had been racing in her chest for the last few minutes and she needed a break from Yuuji and Nobara’s prying eyes.  She was sure they’d seen right through her, sure they’d been able to tell she was lying through her teeth.
Just as she was about to fall onto the cushions and let the couch take her into a much needed afternoon nap, she noticed a thick hardcover book had been left behind.  There was a bookmark sticking out of it halfway between the covers, but all of the pages before it were littered with small sticky notes.  She’d recognized it right away, if not for remembering this was the book Megumi had been reading all week, she’d deduce it was his from the heavy annotations.  She’d never met anyone who took reading as seriously as he did.
With a small smile she picked it up, deciding she could nap a little later.  He was likely wondering where he’d left the book after all, she was pretty sure he had the afternoon free.  On a mission, she heads out of the common room, while flipping to the first page marked by a skinny pink tab.
She’s so lost in reading the little comments he’d left on a larger note inside of the page- rather than actually reading any of the actual text- that she didn’t notice Megumi in the hall until she practically ran into him.
“Oh- sorry!” She yelped quietly upon seeing the tall figure in her peripheral.  When she looks up to see it’s Megumi, her shock melts into a small smile.  “Oh, Megumi! I was just coming to look for you,” She beams brighter, closing his book and extending it to him.  “This is yours, right?” 
Not knowing what to say, he gives her a shaky nod before taking the book from her hands.  He settles for a small thank you.
“No problem,” She replies.  “It was in my nap spot” She adds sheepishly.
Megumi chuckles, and he’s unable to keep himself from grinning.  (y/n) tilts her head at his bright smile, intrigued by the pure joy seeping out of him.  Her fingers latch together as a group of butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter in her stomach.
“Hey, I was wondering…” She starts, her brows pinching with uncertainty, but Megumi gives her his undivided attention.
“Yeah? What is it?” He asks, tucking the book under his arm.
He watches the way her fingers begin to fiddle.  He’s distracted by the nervous habit of hers, and his heart swells in his chest.  She was fidgeting.
“Uh, ah- it’s silly-” She starts to change her mind, but he shakes his head at her, too eager to hear what was on her mind to let her back out of it now.
“I’m sure it’s not,” He says boldly.  She must catch the way he looks at her in complete seriousness, because her eyes widen in the smallest amount.  “What is it?” He asks again.
Her cheeks feel warm, and Megumi watches in real time as a rosy tint flushes her face.  He can’t believe it took him so long to realize just how deeply he cared about her, because seeing her fidget and blush before him now, he thinks it could be his favorite sight of all time.
“D’you remember when we were little, and Gojo always made us have those playdates?” She asks with a small laugh that dies quickly as she’s overcome with bashfulness.
“Yeah, how could I forget that?” He chuckles back at her, his lips lifting into a fond smile, even though in most of his memories of that time, he was an irritated, angry little thing.  “What about it?” 
(y/n) opens her mouth to explain, but quickly shuts it and shakes her head.  A soft smile adorns her lips as her eyes fall to her hands, still fidgeting nervously.
“I dunno, I guess I…” She’s never struggled for words more than this moment, and she curses herself for acting like a shy little girl when she’s known Megumi for years, and she’s never quite felt like this.  “Do you remember when we became friends?” She rushes the question out, afraid that she’d say forget it and walk away with regret rather than feel a little embarrassment now and actually get an answer.
Megumi nods.
“I do” He responds right away.
“Like, actual friends,” (y/n) clarifies, sure that he spoke too soon.  “Not just kids dropped off at a playground for three hours and being expected to play together, I mean, like, real friends” 
Megumi nods again.
“I do,” He repeats, this time with a small chuckle.  “You don’t?” 
(y/n) chews on her lip as she shakes her head.  Her brow furrows in the slightest, curious as to how he has the better memory of the two of them.  Amused, he smirks at her.
“Well?” She asks impatiently.  “What changed?” 
“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” He teases softly, making her roll her eyes.  “You’re hurtin’ my feelings, (y/n/n)” 
“I didn’t know you had feelings, ‘gumi,” She retorts playfully.  “But c’mon, tell me” She pleads sweetly, her eyes glittering with anticipation.
His eyes flicker between hers for a moment, swept away with the way she looked at him.  It dawns on him that if she asked him any favor this way, he’d comply without hesitation.  Her complete attention was on him, and he swore there was something in her eyes he’d never seen before.  Or perhaps he’d just never noticed it.  It was soft, but there was a depth there that he was aching to explore further.
“It was right before we came here,” He finally indulged her, his voice quiet like he was revealing a well kept secret, rather than a memory they actually both shared, even if she’d forgotten it.  “The weekend before, actually.  When we were moving into the dorms, you remember that?” 
(y/n) nods at the general memory.  She thinks she recalls making fun of him for listening to Weezer while unpacking in the room right across from hers.
“Gojo let us stay one night early.  Probably so he could have his place to himself,” The thought dawns on Megumi a little late, but he chuckles realizing it now.  “But at the time it was cool… cause we’d never been on our own before” 
“Right,” (y/n) smiles as she thinks about it now.  That first night on her own in her own space had felt so special, so exciting.  It was almost humorous how normal it felt now.  How her space felt completely her own.  “I almost forget how it was just you ‘n me for a bit here” 
“But you don’t remember the first night?” He asks.  A smile line creases between (y/n’s) brows as she racks her mind for the rest of the memory.
Making ramen noodles in the kitchen far too late in the night because she couldn’t sleep.  Pacing around the corridors and snooping where she shouldn’t have.
“You woke me up,” Megumi chuckles.
Realization dawns on her in the form of an embarrassed smile.
“Oh,” She muses softly.  “Right… I couldn’t sleep and… I was bored” 
“You begged me to get up with you, it was torture,” Megumi reminded her.  “And then you made me watch a movie with you, that dumb 80s movie you like that was way too long- and you didn’t even stay awake through it” 
“Okay okay-” (y/n) tries to dismiss him with a wave of her hand, but Megumi continues.
“But you talked through most of it anyways,” He speaks over her before she could get him to shut up.  “You said you were scared” 
Her eyes widen, and the story he’s telling sounds vaguely familiar, but truthfully she’d been so exhausted that night she couldn’t really remember the specific details all that well.  But she did remember waking him up in the middle of the night, so she’s surprised he’s able to recall this random moment from a year ago so easily.  Maybe his memory was just better than hers.
“I… I did?” She mumbles.
Megumi nods back, with his focused eyes set on hers.
“You said you were scared of failing,” His voice grows quiet again.  “You said you… you were scared of not getting stronger,” 
Despite this event having happened so long ago, (y/n) feels embarrassed now, and she can’t believe that Megumi’s clung to this memory in particular.  She almost wished she hadn’t asked, because she could’ve lived in peace never having known she’d revealed such a massive insecurity to him.
“And then you told me that you thought I was strong,” Megumi continues, a smile curling on his lips.  “And you asked if I’d help you get strong like me, too,” 
She’s sure she must be seeing things when she notices color flush his cheeks.  Because there was no way Fushiguro Megumi was blushing in front of her right now.
“Then you passed out on me and I was stuck watching the rest of the dumb movie so you wouldn’t wake up” 
“You watched the rest of the movie?” She asks softly.  He chuckles at her, and nods his head.  “I can’t believe I don’t remember any of that” 
“You were pretty tired,” He shrugs back in understanding.  “And it was a while ago, I wouldn’t have expected you to remember all of that” 
“I see…” (y/n) mumbles to herself.  She drags her lip between her teeth as she stays quiet for a few moments.
“And by the way,” He steps forward, catching her attention again as her eyes snap up to meet his, suddenly aware of the small space left between them.  “I do kinda stare at you a lot” 
Her face lights up with so much heat she thinks she’s going to combust.
“You- you heard that?” She squeaks out.
“And then some,” Megumi nods back.  For some reason, he doesn’t feel weird about shamelessly admitting that he’d been listening in on her conversation.  “Did you mean all of that?” 
Her mouth opens and closes a few times as her previous conversation comes back to her in waves.  The longer she thinks about it, the hotter the back of her neck grows.  He’d listened to all of that? He heard her ramble on about him? And had he heard that last part-? 
“I mean, y-yeah, yeah,” She stammers over her answer, accompanied with an awkward nod of her head.  “Of course I did” She says surely, but her voice is a mere whisper.
“Even that last part?” He asks, shuffling forward again.  Her eyes track the movement, bewildered by his sudden closeness, but she doesn’t dare put space between them.
“Last part?” She repeats, dumbly.
“Yeah,” Megumi nods, and he can’t help but reach out and trace his thumb under her jaw, ghosting over her skin with a touch so light she almost leans into it to feel it properly.  “You know, the part where you said you hadn’t thought about it, about me,” He reminded her, even though she remembers fully well what he was referencing.  “You meant that too?”
She swallows thickly.  The intensity of his eyes on hers was too much to bear, she could almost crumple to a heap on the ground, but her body is rigid, firmly planted before him by the pad of his thumb under her chin.
“No,” The word comes out in a whisper so soft Megumi wouldn’t have caught it had he not watched it fall from her lips.  “No, I didn’t mean that”
A smile twitched on his lips, and he could see her hands fidgeting again.  Just as he thought, he beamed as he met her eyes again, she felt it, too.
“What did you mean to say, then?” He asks the question that’s been lingering on his mind like poison being held in the back of his throat.
Her eyes wander to his lips as she realizes he’s been moving in impossibly closer.  She’s hoping, no, she’s sure he’s going to kiss her, but he wants his answer first.  Rightfully so, she supposes he’s been waiting to hear it, and if she was honest she was dying to get it off her chest.  But the prospect of so blatantly telling someone how you feel has her shifting her weight nervously.
“I meant…” She mumbles, snapping her eyes up to his when she thinks she’s stared at his lips for too long.  “I meant I have thought about… something more…” Her voice raises and drops in volume as she makes her confession weakly.  It’s certainly not a bold, romantic movie moment, like she always thought she’d have some day.  It’s timid, quiet, and a bit awkward on her end.  She clears her throat.  “But they didn’t need to know that” She says, a small giggle escaping her.
“No, ‘spose not” Megumi’s lips curled into a smile that had her nerves settling, comfortable again in his presence.  Although she’s sure she could never be truly uncomfortable with him.
“So… spying on your friends these days, hm?” (y/n) asks, tilting her head at him curiously.  She means for her tone to be playful, but it comes out in a whispery soft.  “That’s a bit out of character for you, Megumi”
Despite his warm face and stuttering heartbeat- he might need to go to Shoko, the irregular pace was becoming a concern- Megumi chuckles at her, and his smile doesn’t falter.
“When else was I gonna get to hear you say all that nice stuff about me?” He hums, effectively burning up her cheeks as well.  His thumb traces gently over her chin, his eyes following the movement fondly before meeting hers again.
Megumi had never really been a touchy person.  (y/n) could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’s ever touched her, and the first three instances that pop up in her mind revolve around him rescuing her ass when she was being reckless on an assignment.
“I liked the part where you said I was a gentleman,” He beamed a little brighter, and (y/n) had to grind her teeth into the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot.  “But for the record,” He moves closer, and her eyes grow so round as she stares at him that they almost burn from her lack of blinking.  “I’m lucky to have you, too,” 
Her jaw loosens and her teeth no longer have a grip on her cheek, allowing for a sweet smile to stretch across her lips as she takes in the fond words.
Just as she thought.  He was the warmest person she knew.
“And,” He continued, his eyes moving between hers as he took in how pretty she looked when she was in a state of surprise, “You are my favorite” 
She laughs again, breathless and quiet before she rolls her eyes with nothing but fondness.
“I know,” She murmurs, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance.  The smile on her lips was too sweet for him to think she was giving him anything other than her entire heart on a platter.  “Must be a side effect of your staring problem”
He tilts his head down, simultaneously lifting her jaw with a tender pull of his thumb, but just as his nose brushes over hers, he seems to remember his manners, and he can’t have her go thinking he’d dropped the gentlemanly side of him she seemed to appreciate so much.
“Can I?” He murmurs, his lashes rising and falling as his eyes travel between her gaze and her lips.  “Kiss you?” He clarifies.
And she almost laughs.  She wants to giggle and grab him by the shirt and smash her lips against his in a feverish, passionate kiss.  But her breath is caught in her throat, she can’t quite find her voice, and her fingers seem to have magnets clinging them together because she’s frozen before him.
So all she can do is shut her eyes and give the faintest nod of her head, barely pursing her lips before his are pressing against them.
Every muscle in her body relaxes as she’s flooded with warmth.  Her posture loosens up and even her hands pry apart as she finally finds the strength to lift them, setting them gently on his shoulders.  
His lips are surprisingly soft, even when she presses closer and kisses him deeper, they feel nothing but tender.  She feels light headed from how sweetly he kisses her, his free hand, the one that isn’t holding his book, splays across her cheek.  The tip of his index finger barely ghosts along her earlobe, before tracing down her jaw, and back up again.
She was damn near about to raise her foot like the girls in the movies do when they’re swooning over their true love’s kiss.  That shit was no joke.
When they part, she’s smiling at him again, and he’s mirroring her expression.  It takes her a minute to will herself to open her eyes, and her hesitation makes Megumi chuckle.
“Next time, I’ll let ‘em know you’re a good kisser, too” She mumbles, in a bit of a daze, as he could tell.
“Oh will you?” He teases quietly.
She nods, leaning her cheek into the comfort of his palm.  Her cheeks flush before she crinkles her nose, second guessing her previous statement.
“Well, maybe not right away” She mumbles, and he chuckles at her.  
The apples of his cheeks are bright, his smile is toothy, and his eyes sparkle with every lovely feeling humanly possibly, all held for her.
“Maybe not right away” He agrees in a soft voice, before tilting forward again, his thumb swiping gingerly across her cheekbone.  
She swears she could melt into the way his low voice comes out in a whispered husk against her lips.  Her eyes are already fluttering shut again.  His lips brush over hers sweetly, gently, as though for the first time.  She returns the tenderness, her fingers reaching up and ghosting along his sharp jaw, twitching with anticipation to touch more.  The desire to grab him by the face and crash their lips together is still a thought in the back of her mind, but she sets it aside for now.  She thinks he’ll make the time for her to do so later.
And suddenly Megumi believes her.  He believes all the kind things she’d said when coming to defense.  He believes he is warm, and he is caring.  But he only believes it because she made him so.  He thinks he’ll have to tell her, at some point, but it could wait for another time.  They were bound to have time ahead of him where he could spend hours on end returning the favor, and sing her praises until his face is blue and hers is pink. ___
xoxo ~ jordie
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noxtivagus · 2 years
Text
🥺 thinking about ffxiv again hehe
#🌙.rambles#[ ffxiv. ]#I PROMISE ILL RAMBLE ABT OTHER STUFF ANOTHER TIME BUT#oh my god this hyperfixation wait#haurchefant with the. 'thoughts unspoken'#I LOVE THAT SO MUCH STILL#idk but ffxiv n fiction in general has always really given me comfort n strength#i love rereading the tales from the _ stories in lodestone so much#i really really love reading more about these little moments n scenarios n extra lore outside moments in-game?#i've always loved reading!!!! imagining is such a beautiful experience. you can go to a whole different world#the sight you see is unique only to you. imagination is so special#& then i also really love the beauty of playing through video games bcs it has. physical engagement#tbf my imagination is well enough that i can really see the worlds in my head around me if i really wanted to or smth#but yeah#i'm going a bit off-topic but growing up w a lot of exposure to both of ^^#i want to create something that. sigh :')#i feel like myself again n listening to songs like. don't think twice. kh my childhood uwahh i feel like myself again yhyh#for my own original story i often used to imagine it like. a video game. playing through it#ahh there's so much possibilities to imagine and think of and it fills me with so much life#eventually i really want to create my own video game someday. with the stories and characters n music n everything#i have a lot of dreams and it's unrealistic to achieve many of them but i really do want to. i'll try my best. for myself.#i'll be happy n content n satisfied n at peace enough with that. even if i may be mostly alone#i'll always have my family at least. my parents till they're gone and apollo from the very start to the end#n other ppl too. it's hard to get rid of doubt but if i'm not the only one then. yeah c:#i always ramble so much i will make a spam account fr i wna manage this better 😭#i write a lot for myself but i don't mind being open about it online. even offline imo as long as it doesn't damage anything#bcs i'm very comfortable just being myself like that. a lot more to improve on still but knowing myself i know i'll succeed greatly#yeah! c:#in time..
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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dreaming of a world where my boyfriend sejanus has to go out of town for something for a while so he lets me fuck his best friend coryo whenever i want as long as i call him and let him listen
Content warning . Threesome (?), use of sex toys, anal, praise & degradation, ‘daddy’ used like twice— 18++
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“Do you promise you won’t be long?”
It’s the same exact thing you say everytime to him. Sejanus, your boyfriend, the forever busy owner of the Plinth fortune, is constantly away. Your feet shuffle nervously against the hardwood floor of your shared apartment, still a shy, timid thing despite knowing that Sej will always be gentle with you. He smiles, his big hands stuffing ties and suits into his already overfilled suitcase.
“I promise, sweet girl.”
Your lips form into a pout. He says that everytime, but he usually takes a week, if not longer. Noticing your distaste, Sejanus sets his things down and wraps his strong arms around your middle. You rest your body against his, burying your face into his shoulder and inhaling. He smells like laundry detergent and soap, so unlike the other privileged men of the capital. Instead of expensive cologne or parfume, Sejanus lets himself smell as is. You’ve always loved that about him— it gives you a sense of comfort to know that he hasn’t allowed the Capital to change him.
“Hey,” he soothes, his hands coming up to cup your face. He kisses you softly on the nose. “It’ll be okay, angel. I’ll be back in four days, tops.”
You don’t say anything, and Sejanus continues with a teasing lilt.
“Coryo can take care of you.”
The mention of the familiar blonde makes heat creep up your neck.
Coriolanus— Coryo — is a pretty boy with icy blue eyes. He’s been Sej’s friend for years, and one of the only people that the brunette trusts. Perhaps that’s why the three of you have come up with this special arrangement.
You sigh, letting Sejanus rub comforting circles into your back. He kisses you, gentle with his tongue teasingly nipping at your bottom lip.
“Make sure to call me tonight, okay?”
And that’s how it leads to you being spread out, laying in between Coriolanus Snow’s legs. Your hands are curling into his platinum blonde locks as he thrusts a dildo in and out of your tiny pussy— all while he’s letting out a teasing chuckle, a cellular device placed right up against your mouth so Sejanus can hear your delicious moans.
You wish you could see Sej, feel his buzzed hair and his soft, muscular body. You want so desperately to drool on the heavy cock in between his legs, to let him use your mouth and your cunt. But he has a legacy to look up to, a future family to feed, jewels and dresses to buy his girl. And although you miss like crazy — Coryo isn’t Sejanus, after all — he still makes a fantastic substitute. So why not fulfill your needs if your boyfriend is okay with it? Better yet, suggested it?
Coryo had pressed the speaker button on the call, and now you can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs as Sejanus coos to you on the other line.
“Oh, baby,” he says, when he hears your tiny whimpers as Coryo pushes the dildo in and out of you. “Are you being a good girl?”
You feel Coryo’s lips brush over your neck. He smiles against you, watching the way your cum coats the toy in creamy strings.
“Bein’ so good, Sej,” You hiccup, bucking your hips. “Miss you so much, wanna feel you...”
You can hear wet noises sounding from the other line, a small groan emitting from the microphone.
“I miss you too, sweet girl. Miss you so so much,” he says. “What’s he got you doin’ huh? Is he stretching all those little holes good?”
Looking down, you watch as the dildo penetrates you, along with the jeweled butt plug inside your tight little ass. The dildo is thick, extremely girthy and long. God, it’s long. It’s a wonder it hasn’t bruised your cervix yet with the way Coryo is rapidly pounding it into you.
“He’s..” you stutter, watching as Coryo’s arm grips you tighter and he bites down onto you, hard. “He’s f-fucking me. With the dildo, th-the one that looks like you, sej.. feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He breathes out on the other end, and you can imagine the way he looks now: spread out on a hotel room bed, tie undone and his pants haphazardly unbuttoned. His hand gripping his thick member, moving up and down, up and down…
You’re snapped out of your fantasies when you feel Coryo’s bulge pressing against your lower back. Even though you love Sejanus, your mouth aches for the other man to slip his cock past your lower lips and pound you deep into the mattress with no remorse, no sympathy. It’s one of the things you like about this arrangement— whereas Sejanus is soft, worships your body with every kiss and thrust (minus the punishments you get one or twice a month week), Coriolanus feels no romantic attraction. It’s primal, hot, and filthy. Two different halves, complete opposites. But both of them fulfill your desires in each of their own ways.
Coryo’s voice rings out, low and throaty, when Sejanus asks him if he had prepped you first.
“‘Course I did, Sej,” he groans, annoyed. “Stop whining, she’s fine.”
“Don’t care,” you hear Sejanus grumble. “If I find out you didn’t prep her, Coryo, you’re in deep shit.”
“I did,” Coryo argues, pausing his movements on your aching cunt. You grind against it, trying to get more of that delicious grazing against your special spot. “Tell him, baby. Didn’t I prep you?”
You nod, and for your reward Coryo resumes touching you. But this time, he moves his fingers down to play with the jewel sitting prettily between your cheeks.
“He did, Sej..” you start, trying not to whimper at the feeling of the plug being twisted around inside of you. “He used his fingers, his tongue, got me nice and wet…”
Sejanus shakily lets out a reply, and you let out a small yelp when Coryo teasingly pulls half of the anal plug out of your entrance.
“Yeah?” Sejanus says. “Were they as good as mine?”
“No!” You keen out, and you know it’s the truth and you know it’s exactly what Sejanus wants to hear. Not only is this a way to help you, but it’s also a way for Sejanus to show off and prove his own talents. He doesn’t mean to do it, per se, but— when it comes to you, Sej can get possessive and he can get egotistical about the way he fucks. And maybe, just a little bit, it’s because he strives for his best friend’s approval. His intelligent, highly influential best friend, the Coriolanus Snow.
But that doesn’t matter right now, not really. Because Coryo is slipping out the plastic cock sitting hot inside you and he’s turning you onto your side.
You comply easily, lifting up your leg like a bitch in heat. His tip probes at your hole, warm and dripping. He places the phone right next to your face, Sejanus’ voice purring hotly in your ear.
“Dick’s so hard listening t’you, honey,” he groans throatily. “Can’t wait to get home and pound all those pretty holes.”
A small mewl leaves you, and Coryo’s tip pops into you. It’s thick, not as thick as Sej’s, but it still makes your eyes roll back and your hips buck back into him.
“Want it so bad,” you breathe, and when Coryo begins to move inside you your hand reaches back to grasp his thigh. “Fuck, Coryo, please. Need more..”
“Beg for it, darling,” Coryo says, and you want to scream. “Come on, don’t be a brat. Do I need to spank you?”
Your gut twists at the thought of Coryo’s punishments.
“No,” you whimper out, stilling. “No, Cor, ‘m sorry.”
“Be nice,” you hear Sejanus warn from the other line. “She’s delicate.”
“No she isn’t,” Coryo quips, his cock moving roughly in your walls. “She likes it. She likes getting hurt. That’s something you need to come to terms with, Sej.”
You can hear an annoyed sigh sound from the other line. Sejanus ignores his comments.
“You fuckin’ her now?” He asks. Coryo’s cockhead slips out of your gaping hole and back in again at a rapid pace. The way Sejanus says it so carelessly, as if you aren’t even there, makes your eyes roll back.
“Yes,” Coryo replies, his nails digging crescent moons into your hips. “Shit, she’s tight. How is she still so fucking tight?”
“Mmm. She’s always like that. Like a rubber band.”
“It’s cute,” coryo grunts. “She still gets split open no matter how hard you stretch her out.”
You become pliant under Coryo’s thrusts, brain fucked out and all you can think is SejanusSejanusSejanus. The plop plop plop sound of Coryo’s balls slapping against you makes you let out the most unholy sounds.
“You with me, baby?” Sejanus says, his tone soft. The way he knows you so well makes your tummy flutter with butterflies.
“Mmmh..” you whine out, disagreeing. Because it’s true. He isn’t here, and you need him now more than ever.
“I know,” Sej moans out, his voice laced with arousal and something else entirely melancholy. “I know, honey. Gonna be home real soon, okay? Gonna fuck you just like you deserve.”
Coryo’s hands go up to push you onto your stomach. He grabs your wrists, pins them behind your back, lifts up your ass with his big hands. You mewl, tears streaming down your cheeks, letting him use your hole as Sejanus lets out throaty groans through the microphone. Coryo’s hand comes down harshly on your ass cheek when you squirm against his grip.
“Stop fucking moving,” he rasps, his fingers gripping your cheeks harshly. “Or I’ll use the fucking paddle.”
Sejanus, too far gone with how aroused he is, lets out a loud, guttural moan through the phone.
“Fuck…”
Tears stream down your face, and you mutter out a soft, “yes sir”. Your cunt aches and drools around Coryo’s thick length, pussy lips spread tight around him. It’s comforting, but not comforting enough. You need Sejanus.
“Sej..” you whine out, and Coryo’s fingers move down to rub your clit harshly. You let out a desperate mewl.
“Right here, sweetheart,” Sejanus whimpers out. “Daddy’s right here.”
You can’t help but seize up at the title you gifted him a long while back that you only use on special occasions such as this. Coryo’s harsh rubs on your clit are making you tread closer and closer to your high.
“It’s so good,” you cry, fucking your hips back onto Coryo. Sejanus lets out a breathy laugh from the other line.
“Yeah? Is his cock filling that tight pussy up? Makin’ you feel good, baby?”
“Yes..” you whine out. “So good. Feels so good.”
Sejanus grunts.
“Gonna cum, baby,” he replies, and you can hear the wet sounds of his cock getting louder. “Gonna cum all over that sweet fucking pussy when I get back.”
“Please, daddy, need you to cum! Pleasepleaseplease…”
With a moan of your names spilling out of his lips, sweet, high, and orgasmic, Sejanus lets go. You hear him let out those angelic sounds signaling his release. Thinking of it— his big, girthy length dripping spend and his fucked out face— makes your orgasm fall over you in powerful waves. Coryo chuckles, watching as you fall apart underneath him, squeezing his cock like a vice.
“Mmm,” coryo hums, stilling. You let him pull out of you when you come down from your high, and he lets out a shaky breath when he sees your cunt. His fingers twist around the anal plug, gently pulling it out. Lube coats your rim, and when Coryo sees your gaping asshole he lets out an intense moan.
“Cmon,” he directs, pulling your limp body towards him. “Hold it open for me, baby, be a good girl.”
You obey, arms weakly moving around to spread your cheeks for him. His tip prods at you, teasing around you. When he sinks in, you let out a squeal.
“I know,” he coos, almost mockingly. “I know, pretty girl, look at that. Tight little ass is sucking me in.”
“So much..” you whimper, your face hot.
“I know, sweetheart. Just a little bit more.”
Coryo moves in and out of your ass at a rough, harsh pace. He would love to cum in your pussy— really, he would. But Sejanus only allows him to cum inside your ass— says that your cunt is only for him.
Not that Coryo is complaining, of course.
Sweat drips down his temple as he fucks into you like a madman. Your fingers grip the sheets, your little legs shaking. Sejanus coos out little praises to keep you grounded, and for a second you can pretend he’s here. You clench around Coryo at a particularly dirty sentence, and he grunts, his hips beginning to stutter.
“Gonna fill up this tight ass. That what you want? You like being a slut for your boyfriend’s best friend, huh?”
You let out a mewl, keening against Coryo when his cock spurts warm, wet ropes inside you. He presses flush against you, lets you milk him for everything he has, and when he slows he rests against your back.
“Done?” Sej asks from the other line. Coryo replies, a gruff “yeah” leaving his lips. When he pulls out of you, you curl up on your side. You’re exhausted.
You watch as Coryo slips on his pants and his belt, then his shirt. He brushes back his blonde curls as he looks at himself in your mirror. And sweetly, he places a kiss to your forehead.
“Thank you, baby.” He murmurs to you. “Do you want me to run you a bath before I go?”
Coryo is quite gentle with you. Not only because Sejanus would kill him if not, but also because he genuinely cares for your well being. You shake your head, limbs feeling like desert sand. You want to talk to Sej, and then you want to sleep.
“Okay,” Coryo replies. “I’ll see you… in two days, maybe? Is that okay?”
You show off a small smile.
“I’d love that.”
When Coryo leaves, the room smells of sex and perfume. You let Sejanus know Coryo’s gone, then you both talk about his trip— what he’s seen, who he’s doing business with, the cute pair of silky pajamas he got you. And that night, when you sleep, it’s less lonely.
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@etfrin @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry
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kirbyskisses · 11 months
Text
a thing i wrote in @14thcommander’s dms. no warnings; fem!reader + fluff. i’m in love with the emo boy/cutesy girl aesthetic.
i am once again thinking of childhood friends to lovers with megumi fushiguro
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you’re a pudgy little thing at your kindergarten where everyone else is ignoring the spiky black haired boy sitting by himself on the bench with an uncaring expression.
your interest is piqued as he’s picked up by a lanky, white-haired man who carries a goofier, more youthful energy than any of the other parents.
you bravely trot up, little pastel boots splashing in the rain at the odd duo and call.
“hey wait! uhm… what was your name! fu…fushi-?” you try to remember his name from roll call and his dark eyes widen at your approach momentarily before drooping again.
“i’m fushiguro.”
“fu-shi-gu-ro, right!” you laugh, a bright gentle sound despite the gray day. “i like your doggy, fushiguro!”
that causes him and his guardian to pause, the white haired man crouching to you, incredibly blue eyes peering amicably over pitch black glasses.
“well now… you can see it huh? you’ve certainly got a lot of cursed energy for a kid so small. you know, you’re very special to see those?” he smiles and you grin back.
“yeah! i can see ‘im!” your bright eyes turn back to megumi, delighted. “can i pet him them?? pretty please!!”
megumi looks to gojo’s approving grin, then to you with a soft nod as your tiny form pats the white devil dog’s snout, a mess of giggles at its curious nose and teeth.
and then “fushiguro” becomes “megumin” and then “min-chan.”
min-chan who you have play dates with that evolve into study dates and training where he can never bring himself to actually lay a hit on you.
min-chan who frowns when you go home from school early with a cold, but blushes a subtle pink when he walks into his house and sees you getting your hair braided by his sister.
min-chan whose cheeks dust a light pink at the bright, ever-excited warmth of your smile as you explain - “your house was closer, so tsumiki-nee said to stay here rather than walk home sick!”
min-chan who’s a bit more of a hormonal tween now. his blush darkens when he sees you wearing his extra shirt to sleep in and hears you using his shower.
min-chan who finds out you’re being mocked or bullied for your interests in middle school and comes to you with bloodied knuckles as he walks you to the train station. he always walks you, every day.
“it’s not my blood.” he looks at the red staining his hands. “don’t look so worried. next time they bother you, just tell me…”
min-chan who is devoted to cheering you up.
min-chan who listens you talk about whatever manga boy it is your simping over or whatever new album you’ve torrented onto your ipod. he only gives soft nods and the occasional smile but you know he’s listening diligently.
and min-chan who bites his lips and mutters “it’s not a big deal” anytime you congratulate him on taming a new shadow curse.
min-chan who mumbles “hold on tight,” red in the face when you wrap around him to ride nue for the first time.
min-chan who hides that his new phone has you – cradling one of his smaller shadow frogs – as his wallpaper.
min-chan who frowns his gojo perpetually pokes his cheek - teasing that his “girlfriend” really is getting stronger and he needs to catch up if he wants to keep the “tough emo boyfie” act up.
min-chan whose eyes widen when you call him “megumi” - thanking him for everything and handing him a box of cookies for gojo-san, the day you move away. you’re strong enough to master your family’s technique back in their home country.
so now he’s megumi.
megumi who nods tersely as your cute voice chides “don’t get into too many fights okay? and hug the puppies twice as much for me!”
megumi who doesn’t stop thinking about how your lips feel against his cheek for days.
megumi who wants to text, but his head nags that he’d only be an annoyance to your training - maybe it’s better he just leaves you alone. besides, curses are getting stronger and tsumiki has fallen ill - he has enough to worry about.
megumi fushiguro, high school student, who bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as gojo drags him, nobara and itadori along to pick up the last first year of the bunch.
fushiguro who rolls his eyes as the two question what the new addition will be like.
and his breath hitches, seeing a form in a familiar blue uniform. a form dripping in a controlled yet powerful cursed aura, down the street.
with cute cartoon dog pins and a handful of shojo manga, the teen rushes up and calls out. the voice is deeper given the passing years but no less exuberant and familiar.
“gojo-san!! over here!!”
megumi, who feels like a kid again, flushed cheeks and surprised eyes as gojo swings you around with a laugh and you attentively compliment nobara’s lipstick and listen to itadori’s ever-goofy introduction.
“i’m into girls like jennifer lawrence.” he says with not an ounce of shame, megumi still reeling at hearing you say your name with the same friendly laugh you did all those years ago.
“… and i’m into guys like — min-chan!!”
your eyes land on him and the rest of you soon follows, swallowing his taller form whole in a tight hug that knocks him to the sidewalk.
you don’t pay a single iota of attention to the onlookers or to the surprised expressions on each of your classmates instead just letting them watch as you cup his cheeks and squeal.
“it’s been sooooo long! you got bigger - did the puppies get bigger too?! got any new animals? gojo-san got a new blindfold isn’t it cool? hey, how come you didn’t call me or tell me tsumiki-nee is sick - i would have come sooner to help! did you hear i might become a first grade sorcerer this year? how come you never called or wrote?! you’re so rude… but i forgive because i missed you so much!! doesn’t my uniform look cute?!”
you spit out in rapid succession, pinching his cheeks.
megumi who doesn’t have time nor evidence to deny it this time when gojo calls you his “girlfriend” in front of an utterly shocked yuuji and nobara. who only takes a deep, shaky breath to regain his normal deadpan expression.
his other two classmates’ jaws drop farther when he replies without a hitch.
“i’m 175 centimeters now. yes the dogs are bigger. i have rabbits, a serpent and an elephant now. his new blindfold is fine but it makes him no less annoying. i didn’t want to bother you, i’m proud of you for you raise in grade…” he pauses and only then looks away with another deep breath, red on his cheeks.
“thank you for forgiving me…i missed you too…and you do look very cute in your uniform.”
because he’s megumi - the one who acts disinterested to everyone but as always hears every word you say.
megumi, your childhood friend, who doesn’t so much as blink, expression bored at yuuji and nobara’s horrified surprise or gojo’s teasing grin.
he just keeps holding you, sat there on the sidewalk as you nuzzle your cheeks to his like an overly-affectionate kitten happy to have your “min-chan” back. <3
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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would you please write a spencer x reader where she's at the conference (? not sure if thats what it technically was) where spencer gave his speech and everyone was just like 😶😶 but not her
and immediately after the speeches when everyone is talking she comes up to talk to him and shes being so kind he doesn't even notice that shes the only one paying him attention, just immediate infatuation 🥺
"I liked your joke, Dr. Reid." You approach the man from behind, but you neglect to tap him on the shoulder. You'd seen him apply hand sanitizer on his way out of the lecture hall without ever having touched anything inside, so you have a feeling he's more conscious about germs than most.
He turns from the proximity of your voice, and so does Agent Rossi. You're ecstatic to be in both of their presences, but Dr. Reid is an extra something special.
Agent Rossi takes one look at the flustered expression on Dr. Reid's face as he tries processing your remark, and turns around with a stifled grin.
"Uh, thank you," Dr. Reid stammers, blinking fast, "It didn't seem to be much of a crowd pleaser."
"Nothing pleases this crowd," You lament, "We're all overworked and sleep-deprived. But from an avid patron of the campus library, your joke made me laugh. And- uh, I'm Y/N. By the way."
He nods, lips pulling back into a smile that's more of a straight line than anything. You like it, it's cute.
"This campus's library is incredible," You seem to have unlocked Dr. Reid's hidden passion, as he springs into conversation without hesitation, "Unfortunately I wasn't able to explore before we got here because we got stuck in traffic, but we walked past it and I could see that the philosophy section goes all the way through to the other side."
His eyes are wide as he speaks, hands aiding his speech as he rambles.
"It's actually," You chuckle breathlessly, a tad sheepish to admit it, "It's one of the reasons I came here instead of my other potential university. I couldn't pass up the library."
"A girl after his own heart," Agent Rossi sets a hand on Dr. Reid's shoulder, finally tuning back into your conversation with a kind smile towards you. Dr. Reid turns, effectively broken from his passion-fueled library reverie.
"Unfortunately, we've just gotten called away," Agent Rossi informs you, "But Spencer, I think you should give her your business card in case she has any questions about our lecture."
Dr. Reid stands frozen, blinking once, twice, thrice, then-
"Oh! My card," He fumbles with the chest pocket of his sweater, then when he comes up empty (save for a speck of lint), he switches to his messenger bag.
"Uh," He jams his hand into a sleeve sewn to the lining of the bag, then thrusts a slightly rumpled business card towards you, "Here, um, yeah, if you have any questions. Or- or if you'd like to talk about philosophy? I've, um... I've got plenty more jokes if you ever have time to listen."
"I'll make time," You promise him, and you don't miss the way his eyes go wide and his cheeks glow pink, "Thank you, Dr. Reid."
"Uh, Spencer!" He decides, calling after you as you part ways, feet shuffling over tile as he tries keeping pace with Agent Rossi, "You can call me Spencer!"
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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months
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I feel like, Young!Pathetic!Konig would do REALLY well with a Older!Lady-Cougar!Reader, She's maybe been divorced twice and looking ta maybe become widowed this time? May-haps her current hubby has wealth and power but is a few screws short of being a good man towards our poor reader, and there's that Pesky prenup that makes it so she won't get ANYTHING in a divorce...buuuttt if the bastard has a bit of an....*Oopsie doodle*.... Maybe she's looking for someone to take care of her problem, and maybe she likes this young soldier boy, whose all too happy to help with *whatever needs* she might have? Likes how desperate he is for just her hand on his arm, likes how he's on his need begging for just a *taste* Likes that she can teach him how to please a woman, how to make her moan like no lover before....Likes how willing he is to kill the man she's married too...
Asfdf my brain short circuited ❤️ I know I said somewhere that I don’t write cheating but if it’s cheating a bad man with an even worse man König….
CW: 18+ MDNI. Age difference, F!dom/M!sub undertones, praise kink, cheating (your husband is an old dick), mating press & other shenanigans, murder & mentions of blood, König is a lovesick yandere in the making.
It was just one night.
Just one night to satiate your needs because your husband for sure never takes care of them.
But then the young pup you picked off from the pub pops into your workplace next week... With a large bouquet of flowers in his hand and a box of chocolate in the other, your desperate little “detour” looks like a boy who just got laid for the first time in his life.
“König…” you sigh and pull him to an empty breakroom before all your colleagues see you’ve cheated on your beloved husband with a man at least ten years younger than you.
“You can’t be here,” you start, trying to ignore the happy, greedy stares this little—big—soldier gives you.
He’s all the equal to his alias, looking like a king in the making with those wide shoulders and that fierce stare. But his hands are shaking, he guides those eyes to the floor as he puts the gifts on the table littered with crumbs and coffee stains, switches his weight from one foot to the other once you start to tell him how it is.
He listens dutifully as you try to explain how it was only one night, that he was incredibly lovely and you had so much fun but that you can’t see each other anymore. It was wrong of you to do so in the first place, you’re married, and you’re so, so sorry... You were just so sad and lonely.
You tell him he’s a good man. That he’ll find someone special, some lovely girl to call his own. He will find someone who can give him what he wants, someone who will cover him with kisses for bringing her flowers and sweets.
You try to explain it to him even as you get slowly chased into a corner, you try to tell him what a catch he is even when you get pinned to the wall by a hard, lean chest.
You try to tell him that he’s the perfect man for some other girl even when he pulls your strings aside and bullies his cock inside you.
One minute is all it takes as he huffs and groans and fucks you against the wall, your moans and his grunts barely muffled by shirts and fists and lips and skin. There’s lipstick on his clean, white shirt after he’s done with you, teeth marks where his shoulder meets his neck, a spittle of cum on your skirt as he pulls it down with shaky hands.
“Sorry,” he murmurs in your ear. “I just had to see you. I missed you so much...”
Your cunt is what he missed, any woman could see that. Got a taste of it last weekend and wouldn’t let you leave his place at all; a small, miserable flat of 25 square meters, with burned rice on the stove and a thin, cum-stained mattress on the floor. He fucked you on that mattress, four times because on the fifth attempt to part your shaking thighs, you told this horny lad you need to go home.
“I know, big boy. I missed you too. But you need to go now,” you say to your pretty lover. Ugly but pretty, in his own way, his utter lack of cruelty is what makes him beautiful in your eyes.
“I don’t want to,” he dares to argue back and claims your mouth, kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before.
“You have to,” you moan. “König–”
“I love you.”
You’re huffing, panting into each other’s throats as you realize he’s even younger than you thought. Fell in love with your cunt so easily, this big runt, thinks it’s meant to be just because you’re wet and he’s hard.
“Don’t be silly,” you huff and look at the drowsy smile, the messy state of this lovesick man before you fight your way out of his lap.
You want to cry, wail, scream from the injustice. Where was this silly young golden retriever six months ago? Why didn’t you meet him when you were single and sweet? Now you’re trapped in an unhappy marriage with some old fool who was cunning enough to trick you into a ludicrous deal with him. The prenupt you discovered only later, after he swore that you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life and that everything that belonged to him would be yours one day. In reality, you’ve had to beg for every crumb, act the part of a trophy wife who also has to work herself to death. And he won’t even fuck you, only wants you to massage his back and his cock while you’re left all alone without love, without a single kind word.
But König never lets you go: not in a way you beg him to, no, he always shows up at your door. Sneaks into your lonely room from the window, licks you to ruin while you laugh and tell him no, fucks you three times a night, crawls under the bed when a cleaning lady almost catches you two. He shows up at cafes, restaurants, conferences, parties, everywhere where you go but your husband won’t.
He’s so reckless that you have to teach him to be more patient, more gentle. You guide his fingers and his head, even his cock, while locking your eyes with his so that he knows when he’s doing it right. You praise him for a good, unhurried fuck, cup his face and kiss him when he gives it to you nice and slow. Anyone can see he'd want to ram it in until there’s nothing left of him and you, but you kiss and kiss and kiss him until the poor boy moans and cums without permission, just from that tiny taste of intimacy and love.
He gets pets, smooches and caresses, blowjobs that leave him shaking and breathless on the bed. He looks like he has no brains left after you’re done with him, looks a little helpless when you climb on top of him and help yourself with his cock after he only just came.
He’s always up in no time, especially if you tell him he did well. Stares at you and your breasts like you’re a vision from heaven, drools on them once when you won’t let him have a lick. Mopes when you laugh at his predicament, and won’t stop brooding even when you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.
But he’s never mad at you for long, not if you call him sweetie or your silly apple crumb, not if you let him fall asleep in your bed, partly on top of you. There’s always a wet spot on your back if he’s the big spoon, he begs you to sleep naked as he does, says it’s better for your health and then teases you with his fingers come morning, probably thinking he’s so very clever. Takes you to the theater and offers you expensive port wine and cake, tells you how to steal a car, how to shoot any gun. Gives you a hungry kiss in public when you tell him he has to act like he’s your cousin from abroad, vanishes for weeks to his training, sends letters instead of texts, and tells you he’s going to be a big boss someday.
It’s hard to imagine this serious but silly mess as an intimidating officer, not even when you know he has the size and looks for it. He’s too innocent and needy, doesn't know how the real world works yet. Thinks he’s immortal just because he’s young...
There’s a certain darkness in him, and you mistake it for the remnants of some turbulence of his teenage years, just some wrath of a boy who never got what he wanted. Who wouldn’t be a little pissed and impatient in their twenties? He probably doesn’t even know what he wants: hell, you don’t know what you want.
“Like this...?” He asks demurely when he lifts your knees to your ears and sinks his cock into you inch by inch, carefully as if it’s the first time you’re making love.
“Just like that,” you whisper as he spreads you so wide you can’t even breathe, fills you up deliciously, like no one else before. His eyes never leave you, not even when he uses your hole as a place to bury himself and all his bad memories, not even when he makes you squirt like you’re nothing but an oasis in a desert that never ends.
But you know he comes to you for other things than just that.
He comes to you for kind words, breathy praise, soft touches and ruffles of his hair. He comes to you for practice and to get his sense of self in order. He’s your pretty knight in shining armor when others have called him ugly, he’s your strong bull when others have ridiculed his disproportionate limbs. He’s your safe haven, your sunshine, your crazy, silly man, your soldier and your savior, and he soaks up your love and attention like a sponge: every drop gets gulped down like he’s a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t take sips, he doesn’t know how to, and you on the other hand don’t know how to quench the raging drought inside him, long after yours has been satiated.
You sleep like Romeo and Juliet just before their death, and fuck like rabbits in the spring. He takes you in the car, in the closet, in the toilet, in other people’s beds, even at the alley one night.
“I love you,” he always says after he has spilled his cum – it’s like a ritual or a prayer, and you always reach for the baby hairs of his neck in return, and give them the gentlest caress.
“I love you too,” you whisper one night – it just slips when you stroke his cheek. It never comes as a surprise that he gives you the most miserable pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.
He knows about your situation, knows enough that you’re trapped and unhappy. But you never knew he saw you as a victim. If anything, you feel like he’s the victim here. Poor boy, saving what little he has for a future with some woman who knows nothing about true love... You’re not the one for him, you’re not even a silly little sex kitten any young soldier would want to play with. You’re just some bored, abandoned wife who wants to feel something, mean something to someone. But you love him enough to know that you’ll let him go when he wants to move on. As bitter as it makes you feel, you know you’ll give him to someone younger and more beautiful, someone who will love as passionately as he does. Anything to make him truly happy.
But the next evening, König doesn’t climb in through your window. He uses the door, the inside door, and you jump from the bed and hurry to him in your nightgown, the only gift your husband ever gave you.
“I killed him for you,” he says, your soldier boy from Austria, your good, good boy with a good, big cock.
You only now see that his hands are stained in blood, and nothing shakes anymore: your wannabe sniper is as calm as ever when he confesses he’s murdered someone.
“...What?”
He comes to you and cups your face, the blood on his hands both wet and cold. You’ve never seen him so peaceful, not even after he’s had a good fuck. The boy who no one ever loved has turned into a man, but what kind of man… You shiver in his clutch, unsure if you’re about to suffer a heart attack from fear or love.
“He didn’t suffer... Much,” he says, his cracked lips only a breath away from yours. “Knives can be messy…”
You gulp while staring into the deep, dark abyss of his eyes, the innocent baby blue nearly swallowed by the darkest of all loves.
This is not how you thought things would go… You were supposed to give the old man the finger and divorce during the summer. Put your finances in order so that you can escape. Maybe fuck König on the side and see if he’s still the man of your dreams once you’re happily divorced.
Now he’s telling you you’ll marry as soon as possible, or that if you want a summer wedding, he can wait a few months… He tells you you have nothing to worry about, he won’t go to jail, not this time. He’ll take care of you now; he just got promoted. You don’t ever have to be sad again.
“Don’t worry, my love,” he says when all words have finally escaped you. “Now we can be together. Forever…”
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highvern · 3 months
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Patterns I
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader
Genre: smut (21+), eventual fluff/angst
Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?
Chapter Warnings: fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. & m. receiving), choking, face fucking, penetrative sex
Length: ~10k
Note: woooohoooo part 1 done. let me know what you guys think! thank you @gyuswhore for being my beta and talking me down from a complete meltdown lmao
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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“And if you look at this chart, you can see profit margins over the past three quarters have steadily increased…”
Mona drones on and on. You try to listen and nod along but there’s only so much enthusiasm that can be faked for a last minute afternoon meeting on a Friday. Maybe if she was saying anything with an ounce of meaning you’d pay attention. But the numbers she spout off on record profits only confirm what the company who hired your team already knows: if they give their employees more work for less pay, they’ll make more money.
The vibration of your phone wakes you up. Peering into your lap under the table, you see your roommate’s name flash across the screen.
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: ruby’s tonight Y/N: Do I have a choice?
You don’t even lock your phone before she responds.
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: nope!
“Y/N, do you mind sharing the latest reports?” 
Head jerking up, you meet Mona’s gaze across the room. She flashes a tight smile, clearly having caught your moment of distraction. Lucky for you, you could recite the reports in your sleep.
You smile and say all the right things; make all the right jokes. Just enough personality they feel special but not so much they feel like you’re a real human being outside of your job.
“All right. I think we’ve covered everything.” Mona claps. “Edgar and I will be on call this weekend if anything comes up.”
Shuffling out with the rest of your coworkers, you beeline back to your desk. 
Mona breezes by, slamming the door to her office shut.
“Do you think Mona has eyes in the back of her head?” Edgar asks, peeking over the wall dividing your cubicles.
Without looking away from the email crowding your screen you quip, “No, but I hear she sleeps in a coffin.”
“Huh. I thought that was just the hottest office furniture tread for execs.”
You snort in response. 
Mona was a hard ass but she was good at her job. 
“Anyway, any plans this weekend?”
“Get drunk and watch Love Island.”
Edgar gasps, hand to his chest like a scandalized debutant. “You wild woman.”
The next two hours crawl by. Not even the usual side projects keep you entertained, giving you time to research the new art installation downtown Lisa mentioned visiting. 
Hopefully buying tickets as her early birthday present will get you off the hook for tonight.
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In true Lisa fashion, a surprise gift means celebration. And the best place to celebrate is Ruby’s.
Smoke chokes the air, bodies upon bodies packed into the space of the dingy bar on a Friday night. The chill of the outside stops at the threshold of the door, sweltering heat greeting you and your friends as you join the crows eager to celebrate the weekend.
It’s almost too dark to see faces but Mingyu’s head of dark hair stands above the rest from his perch in the corner. Lisa’s hand finds yours, and your other hand find’s Amina as you shoulder towards the table he’s claimed for the night. The bass of whatever remix blaring through the DJ’s speakers thrums through the crush of drunk patrons like a frantic heartbeat, rattling your bones with each step deeper into the space.
The glossy surface of the table is already littered with cups and beer bottles. Mingyu cuts his conversation with Wonwoo short to greet your group, smiling over Lisa’s head already buried in his chest. Wonwoo's only acknowledgement is a short nod over the top of the bottle he lifts to his lips. 
A pair of not so sly eyes wander down your front, tracing across the deep v of your top, baring your sternum between the swell of your breasts. You burn under Wonwoo’s blatant gawking, breath stalled and face hot but none of your friends appear to notice the electricity crackling between you two, intoxicated brains filling with lewd ideas. 
Needing a reprieve, you slither to the bar in search of a drink. Slipping between the sweaty bodies as they part, Amina follows close behind. A few shots and a beer later, you stumble towards the dance floor with laughter on your lips and the bitter singe of alcohol on your tongue.
The crowd of strangers accepts you, swallowing you into the churning chaos immediately. A few familiar faces stand out in the crowd as you shift through the sway.
Looking over the shoulder of the random person in front of you, a mess of limbs better known as Lisa and Mingyu flashes into view; Soonyoung and Eva no better next to them. Over their embrace, you spot Amina dancing with a pretty stranger of her own, both of them with drunk smiles plastered on their faces. 
Head dizzily bobbing to the music, your eyes slip shut. You know it's Wonwoo at your back, hips following closely, one hand around your waist and the other dragging a path of fire across your thigh. 
This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in this particular position. Since your roommates started dating, and whenever alcohol was close enough to serve as a believable excuse, you managed to find each other like super charged magnets; gluing together and drowning heady touches.
It wasn’t like anything more happened. That was the excuse you told yourself after the first time. A girls night out Mingyu and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon. You’d still been upset about the breakup with Seungcheol two months prior, indulging in the shitty white wine that only served to fuel your boldness.
You’d never admit seeking out Wonwoo with the knowledge Seungcheol couldn’t stand him; taking sick satisfaction in imagining the look on Seungcheol’s face as you let Wonwoo touch the way previously reserved for him. You pressed against Wonwoo’s front with little care for who saw; a challenging gleam in your glassy eyes, daring him to push away. Not one to be bested, Wonwoo pressed back, and the rest is history.
After the first night of the new game, you went home and came embarrassingly fast to the fantasy of what would have inevitably happened if he’d followed. The week after consisted of staunchly avoiding Wonwoo. Guilt and disgust plagued every waking moment, and if you had to look at him you knew you’d feel worse. 
Your only real connection was your roommate Lisa dating his roommate Mingyu which meant your evasiveness went undetected for nearly a month before Wonwoo managed to corner you at a party and demand to know what your “fucking problem” was. It was then you realized he either didn’t remember what happened or didn’t think it was anything to make such a big deal about. You never asked for specifics but came to the conclusion: If he didn’t care, then why should you? It was just a bit of fun. A game of chicken neither intended to end. 
Each time you came across each other on the weekends after, the stakes increased. One night, you let wandering hands catalog the planes hard muscle hidden underneath the fabric of his shirt. The next, you followed a trail of goosebumps across his neck with tongue and teeth. 
And Wonwoo called your bluff everytime. His thumb tracing against the underside of your breast while delivering a particularly harsh grind of his hips, leaving very little to the imagination of what hid behind the zipper of his jeans. Or when he spun you around, hypnotizing you with his eyes while pawing your ass, dragging your core across his thigh wedged between your legs.
But whatever transpired fizzled away by the time the night ended, both of you content to go separate ways and ignore whatever was left on the dance floor (or occasionally a wall). Tonight would be no different. It never was. It never would be.
Wonwoo was fun to play with but that's all. Throw him flirty smiles, indulge in the bold touches, take a thrill in the chase and then retreat to the safety of the bar or drag one of your friends to the bathroom for a break. He let go without any argument; something you found disappointing much to your own chagrin. But Wonwoo’s eyes never left your figure the second it left his arms. Even if he found a new partner, he would watch you while he did everything he had already done and then all the things he would have done if you stayed.
“Come home with me,” he whispers in your ear, more of a command than a question, breaking the delicate silence surrounding your unspoken attraction.
The air in your chest thickens to a sludge. For a second, you think you misheard him, possibly hallucinating that he’s spoken at all. With the thrum of music and shouts it’s not out of the question.
Unable to turn in his tight grip, you settle for leaning back against his shoulder, neck stretching, giving him a direct view down your top, his eyes privy to the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra. His chest plastered against your back heaves with a heavy breath as you continue to move against him. 
Wonwoo tries again, his hand squeezing your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body to feel the evidence of his arousal. “Come home with me.” 
It's just the next level to the game, you think. The fantasy is tempting; taking you back to his apartment, spreading you out across his bed and making good on all the promises he’s teased into your skin for months.
If he wants to play, you’ll play too.
“What’s in it for me?” you hum, lips brushing his ear in a mimic of his motion moments ago. 
Wonwoo responds with another curl of his hips against your ass.
God, he’s good at this. Wonwoo is the only guy to spark any kind of interest since Seungcheol left months ago. Not for lack of trying but they were either too tall, too short, weird hair, awful laugh. The list of excuses goes on and on. Subconsciously, you’d been comparing them all to the man behind you and found each of them lacking. But if Wonwoo wants to progress to the next level, he’ll need to work for it.
“Not convincing enough,” you chide.
The hand on your thigh pauses, taking a second to squeeze the supple flesh before setting a new course. Wonwoo moves slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop his advance if you wish. Not sensing an objection, he pushes forward. Even over the thick denim of your jeans, Wonwoo’s palm scorches against the zipper. Continuing lower, he grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, nothing more than mockery of the real thing but it has you shuddering all the same. The slope of your shoulder stings under his mouth, licking waves of fire across the nerves with each nip of his teeth. 
Wonwoo pants against the shell of your ear on the next rock of his hand, laughing as your nails dig into his wrist before he whispers, “Unless you want our friends to watch, trust me.” 
You need to see his face; need to look in Wonwoo’s eyes and find out if he’s trying to rile you up or if he’s serious.
This time when you move, Wonwoo allows you to turn in his hold. The look in his eyes tells you he would take you right here if he thought for a second you’d let him. He isn’t trying to just get a rise out of you and see you squirm. Wonwoo isn’t playing a game anymore. 
He wants you.
You nod once and Wonwoo has you both out the door and on the way to his place before the song ends.
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The cold metal of the door bites into your skin, bowing your chest straight into Wonwoo’s as he crowds against you, arms caging you in on both sides. His lips are busy surveying the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping until he pauses at the hollow of your throat. His teeth raze against the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to lave against the marks he’s determined to leave. Wonwoo listens closely to the sounds leaving your throat, focusing his ministrations whenever an exceptionally satisfied purr slips out.
He takes a step forward at the feel of your hand pushing its way into his jacket, rewarding the tease of your fingers across his stomach with a suck against your jaw. The sharp pain of your nails across his scalp forces a quiet groan out his lips; something you file away for later. 
“Get us inside before your neighbors catch us with my hand down your pants,” you gasp, giving his hair a particularly harsh yank to pull him away from your breasts peeking out from the low cut of your top.
“Wouldn’t mind that,” he mumbles, diving back. 
But Wonwoo concedes, grabbing his keys from his pocket while remaining focused on leaving his mark on your sternum. 
Despite your request, you do everything but make it easier for him; thumb dipping into the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside, cupping the straining bulge confined under the tight fabric. Wonwoo falters under your attention, pressing his hips into you until you're crushed between his body and the door. When Wonwoo finally fumbles the key into the lock, the door flies open under your combined weight.
Using the momentum, Wonwoo crowds you back to the wall just inside, slamming the door shut with his foot, returning where he left off without missing a beat. A hand tilts your chin back to give him more room, and you realize he hasn’t kissed you yet. Twisting the front of his shirt, you resolve to change that.
Pulling back, Wonwoo’s brows arching in confusion, mouth falling opening to complain at being interrupted again but snapping shut when you attempt to pull him forward. 
But a hair's breadth away Wonwoo stops.
“What do you want?”
You won’t beg. If anyone is cracking first it’ll be Wonwoo. Just like he did at the bar not too long ago. 
“If you won’t tell me then I can’t give it to you.” He moves forward, nose tracing along your throat, breath fanning across your neck. One of his arms moves to the space between your body and the wall, pulling until his thigh is bracketed by yours. The hard muscle is nothing short heaven against the seam of your jeans, invoking a traitorous whimper from your throat.
You manage a chaste kiss against the side of his mouth before he darts out of range. 
“Tell me and you can have it,”  Wonwoo says, cocking his head back, looking down his nose at you from behind the wire frames of his glasses; pupils blown. His eyes close and he leans forward again before continuing, “Tell me what you want, and you can have everything.”
His teeth trail across the shell of your ear on the last word and suddenly it's all too much. The rasp of his voice, the flex of his thigh, the layers of clothing separating your bodies. If you don’t get relief soon you’ll both implode.
“Kiss me.”
You feel Wonwoo’s satisfied smile a second before your lips meet, lighting the fuse for what's to come. There’s no gentleness in the connection, instead, months of insatiable need leads the way. Parting your lips, you suck his own between your teeth until it's swollen in retaliation. Wonwoo angles your head back with a gentle tug of your hair, immediately swallowing your gasp at his roughness. The hand wrapped around the middle of your back flexes, urging, no, begging you to grind against him. You oblige with embarrassing eagerness.
Your hand finds its way down Wonwoo’s front again, fingers firm and demanding. Tracing the zipper of his jeans up and down in time with your movement against his leg, the heel of your hand presses forward, causing his hips to cant up against the pressure. The motion is a mock of what he was doing in the crowded bar minutes ago. Just enough to rile him up and to piss him off until his hands drop and squeeze your ass so hard it hurts.
Refusing to let your mouths part, Wonwoo drags you down the hallway towards his room. It takes longer than it should, both of you stopping to force the other into the wall, bodies writhing against one another in search of friction and pleasure. At one point you consider letting him fuck you right their on the floor but he pushes through the door to his room just before you can unzip his pants.
Finally inside, Wonwoo herds you towards the bed in the corner. The back of your knees hit the side, bending as you land with a soft bounce. Wonwoo follows swiftly, settling himself on his elbows before diving back into your neck again. His hips slot into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing forward to search for the heat he knows is there. You greedily return the movement, hips curling up, savoring the drag of his hard cock. Wonwoo sucks another bruise onto your neck, high enough you’ll have to hide it in the morning but you're so drunk on the idea of what is going to happen next you can’t even feign outrage. 
The strap of your flimsy top falls down and Wonwoo moves to explore the new span of skin. His lips drag over the uncovered swell of your breast, sloppy kisses trailing over the silky skin. Cocking his head to the side, he sucks a nipple through the thin black fabric. Your hips buck, back arching at the new sensation. The angle of Wonwoo’s cock is just right, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He’s so focused on what he’s doing he can’t be bothered to snicker at how he turns you into an aching puddle of want.
Clothes come off in a blur. You watch his abs flex as he rips his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the dark thatch of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants. Soon, yours is gone too, lost on the floor. Wonwoo's eyes delight in the sight of you bare before him, with nipples puckered and breasts heavy with excitement. He ducks back down, mouthing at the sensitive bud, drowning in your breathy whines and whimpers. Using his hand, his calloused thumb massages the one his mouth had abandoned, pinching and flicking until you’re left raw and aching.
“Wonwoo,” you cry, hands ripping at the sheets when his teeth come out to play. 
He pulls back from your breasts, in a frenzy to remove your pants while his knees fall to the ground on the side of the bed. You arch up to help him rip the damning fabric away. An ember of fury sparks, furious with yourself for wearing jeans over the skimpy skirt Lisa had offered.
None the wiser, Wonwoo looks between your legs like he’s found an oasis in a desert. You realize too late they’re nothing impressive. Pale pink cotton; simple, practical. Just like your pants, since getting fucked tonight wasn’t even a remote possibility when you left your apartment. 
But Wonwoo doesn’t even seem to care. When you dare to look at his face, worried by the sudden pause in his actions, you find he’s not even blinking. His thumb finds your entrance through the fabric, shallowly dipping inside before moving back and massaging teasing circles over the damp spot.
Pride and ego long forgotten, you beg. “Wonwoo, please.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t give in. Focusing on the curve of your thigh, nose etching along the strained muscle while he continues teasing touches over your underwear. The wet of his tongue comes out when he reaches the hem of your underwear. So close to where you want him but not close enough.
“Please.”
The pathetic crack of your voice is rewarded with firmer fingers and his lips against the sticky crotch of your panties; the heat of his mouth right over your entrance as he laps at your release.
Another beg and he moves aside the thin strip of fabric, curling his tongue into your entrance before sucking at your swollen clit. 
The relief is short lived. Somehow, Wonwoo knows exactly how to touch and tease you, driving you up the wall only to pull you back down. One hand finds your knee, forcing it away when you try to crush his head between your thighs at the first prod of his long fingers inside you.
He slips another finger inside, his tongue continuing to swipe at your bundle of nerves, just as desperate to give you what you want as you are to receive it. Glancing down at him again, you find a scene worthy of being immortalized in a painting. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes pinched tight while he works to get you off. 
A pause to take a breath is all the reprieve you’re granted before Wonwoo dives back in, moaning under the sting of your nails on his scalp; encouraging you to hold him there and use him, to come for him. The symphony of your combined noises floods the room. The squelch of his fingers, rubbing up against the place that drives you mad. The wet noises of his mouth, your arousal mixing with his spit; his noises when you pull at his hair, vibrating against your cunt and pulling your spine into a harsh curve. 
You can’t help but watch him. Enamoured with how right he looks between your legs, skin slips together where his shoulders hold your legs up. Even the contrast of his hand on your knee fuels the fire.
He peers up at you when you call his name again. Eyes burning into your own. Like he can read your mind. Like he agrees this is the best place for him to be.
You hear yourself far away, chanting his name as you shatter into a million pieces. Clenching around Wonwoo’s fingers with a strength you didn't know you possessed, your hips ride them until your muscles lock and jerk. The smear of fluid across your thighs, slipping your ass and onto the bed is lewd. 
But Wonwoo doesn’t stop, working you through it like his own release is on the line. Licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until you finally manage to pull him away with a choked cry of his name. Even then, his hand continues pistoning into you as your mouths find one another hungrily. 
There's a sick satisfaction in your gut at the taste on his mouth. Your arousal coats his chin, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose is wet where it digs into your face as you suck his tongue.
Moving to his feet, Wonwoo bends over you, lips never straying from yours. He fails to crowd you down into the mattress like he intends. Freezing when your hands pushing his pants down the rest of the way. His cock bobs, the nearly purple head leaking. If there was any doubt he didn’t find pleasure going down on you before, the evidence of his enjoyment sits hard and heavy in your palm. An exploratory squeeze has Wonwoo’s chin dropping to his chest, a sharp breath leaving his nose.
Sliding off the bed and to your knees, you peek up at him through your lashes, letting the tip rest against parted lips. When Wonwoo drags his head back up, looking down his nose, your tongue darts out to catch some of his pre-cum, receiving another groan in response. A thought that has you blushing rears its head. 
He’ll probably like it, you think.
You let one of her hands trail down while kissing across the velvety shaft his length. Wonwoo watches closely, eyes widening for a second when you find the apex of your thighs, dipping down to collect the lingering slickness. Once satisfied, you exchange your grip on his cock and quirk an eyebrow. Stroking him coyly.
You don’t look away from his eyes even though every instinct tells you to hide from the heat in his gaze. Your palm catches at the tip, thumb brushing his leaking slit. More evidence of his arousal trickles out and you lap it up quickly.
“Shit,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.” 
One of Wonwoo’s hands finds your cheek, helping you find a comfortable pace. Settling the back of your head against the bed, drag him forward by his ass, content to let him use your mouth the way you used his. Wonwoo stumbles for a second at the sudden movement, hands finding the bed to prevent himself from collapsing. He peers down in question. 
“Want you to fuck my mouth,” you pant, quickly taking him back in, going as deep as possible without gagging.
“Fuuuuck,” Wonwoo rasps, moving the hand on the side of your face to the back of your head. He pins you in place with his hips, giving a shallow, almost hesitant thrust as he discovers your limits.
You zone out when he finds a rhythm, hand at the base of his cock to keep him from bottoming out in your throat, the one cradling his balls dropping to trace the inside of his thigh. Eventually, Wonwoo lets himself go, savoring the pressure of your tongue when you lap against the tip as he pulls out. His abs twitch at the sight of drool leaking from the corners of your stuffed mouth, lips stretched and bruised around his cock. 
Opening your eyes, you look right at him; punching the air from his chest as you moan around his cock, the vibration forcing his head back, neck bared again as a bead of sweat settles in the hollow of his throat.
“Touch yourself,” Wonwoo commands, breaking the melody of whimpers and groans.
You disregard his command, content with focusing on untying him from his loose tether to sanity.
Not one to be ignored, Wonwoo pulls away on the next stroke. You follow, attempting to trail forward and suck him back down your throat but Wonwoo’s hand knots in your hair. He yanks your head back until his cock is just out of range. Looking up at him, you do nothing to hide the annoyance at such a sudden disruption.
“Touch. Yourself. ” he lets out tightly, enunciating each syllable. Equally annoyed but willing to make a point. 
“Wanna watch me?” you goad, smug as the tips of his ears redden. 
Instead of brushing it off, Wonwoo takes the bait.
“Yeah I do,” he says, one hand leaving your hair, guiding the tip of his cock across the seam of your lips, letting out a humorless laugh when your tongue reaches out to meet it on instinct. “Wanna watch while you suck my cock because you’re a good girl.” 
He lets you take the head, teeth grinding under the dig of your tongue into the slit. But any attempt to take more is punished with another tug of your hair. Until his hand circles your throat and he pulls you off completely. 
“Right, Y/N?”
The praise goes straight to your head, breath stunted. You barely nod before Wonwoo moves his hips forward again, slowly resuming their previous rhythm at the promise of seeing you put on a show. Two fingers slip in with ease, disappointment bubbling when the stretch doesn’t come anywhere close to his but you’ll play along for now if it means getting to feel his cum on your tongue.
Wet, messy noises echo in the room. You hollow your cheeks, hand acting as a bumper while letting his cock kiss the back of your throat. Wonwoo’s hips stutter when you swallow around him. The tension in his muscles doubles your effort, set on the satisfaction of making him cum from just your mouth. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Wonwoo hisses, pulling you off.
Wonwoo hauls you up into the bed, aggressively crowding you towards the pillows. The cool sheets sting against your back, but you focus on getting another fist around his cock. Wonwoo intercepts your plans before you can make it below his navel. He pins the offending appendage next to your head; grip loose enough you could break if you wanted, but the tease of his dominance turns you on even more and it's not long before he has both hands above your head, and a disapproving look on his face.
“If you don’t want me to come on your thigh, I suggest keeping your hands to yourself,” he states, leaning towards the bedside table, searching for a condom.
“Didn’t think you’d be that easy,” you bite back. Planting your feet on the bed, your hips grind up into his. 
“Says the woman who begged for my cock,” Wonwoo grinds out, flattening his chest into yours, teasing with exactly what you asked for.
You're suddenly hit by how much stronger Wonwoo is than you. Able to have your entire body pinned like it’s nothing while working the condom on at the same time. You knew he worked out, broad shoulders and narrow waist giving him away; but having that strength used you sends a swirl of butterflies through your stomach.
Wonwoo resorts to ripping open the packet with his teeth, hips easing up to quickly roll it down his length. He rubs himself through your folds, collecting the wetness and repeatedly tapping himself to your clit. You’re about to flip him around and take matters into your own hands when he catches on your entrance and presses home in a slow thrust.
He slides deep. Deeper than Seungcheol, deeper than anyone you’ve ever been with. You barely get a chance to savor it before he’s moving, wasting no time before working up a pace meant to drive you both mad. 
“Shit,” you curse.
Wonwoo huffs into your neck, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Yeah? Feel good?”
“Soooo good.” 
Wonwoo lets go of your hands, tangling one the sheets, the other searching for the top of the metal headboard. The change in position folds you in half, giving him the leverage to fuck as deep as possible. Finding your hands free, one claws at his back, leaving bright red lines in its wake. The other grabs for his ass, squeezing the muscle there, helping him press forward. His balls clapping against the swell of your ass drives you closer to hysteria. 
Your second orgasm rushes forward, resting on his lips finding yours. The connection is bruising, all teeth and tongues. The hand on his ass falls to play with yourself and Wonwoo breaks away to watch.
“Like that, Y/N?” Wonwoo bites, whispering right into your ear. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby.”
His words only add to the inferno. The need to come overwhelms you, demanding satisfaction to the point it hurts. But you need more. Needs something you can’t name and only Wonwoo can give. 
Frustration twists your features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tense. Almost as if he senses your oncoming tantrum, Wonwoo drops more of his weight, pressing you into the mattress and filling you to the brink.
 “Be a good girl,” Wonwoo coos, hip punctuating each word while his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Come for me.”
His permission is the key. Bombs explode behind your eyelids, cascading colors against the black and white. Loud moans rush from your throat to fill his room, muscles locked, body convulsing with endorphins. You want to kiss him again, until you can’t breathe, until you stop needing oxygen and adapt to survive on the taste of his mouth. 
Wonwoo must feel the same, meeting you in a lazy kiss, too fucked out to put in more effort. He swallows every whimper, the syllables of his name while he fucks you through your high. The wetness smeared between your bodies echoes all the motions, his pistoning hips driving more and more from your worn cunt. 
His own high rushes for him at light speed. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours. You burn the last bit of energy you possess to open your eyes and find his. Wonwoo’s face is tight as a thin sheen of sweat covers his body. All you want now is to see him cum, give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. Reaching up, your lips brush his ear one last time.
“Wanna feel you come,” you sigh. “Please, Woo.”
The responding groan signals success. His hips stutter forward, a deep grunt bursts from his chest. If you weren’t exhausted, you’d demand to go again; to fuck him again and again just to see the twitch of his lips as he empties himself into you, the grind of his teeth, and shudder of his chest. But Wonwoo gives one more hard drive of his hips before collapsing, completely spent.
You don't know how long you stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as sweat dries, and your thighs becoming uncomfortably sticky. When Wonwoo moves to pull out, a surprising whine rips from your throat. 
“Shower?” he asks, husky voice breaking the lingering silence.
You finally crack an eye open at Wonwoo’s voice, and find him looking at you with soft eyes. Uh oh. Warning bells fire but you’re too tired to care. A shower sounds lovely.
Wonwoo hauls you up, leading you into his small bathroom. The water in the shower is already running, steam escaping the stall as he ushers you under. The scratches at his back contrast brightly against his pale skin, a few bite marks spattered across his chest. You know you look equally debauched but the lull of warm water calms any concerns. The silence is comfortable, thick as you move like zombies. Wonwoo passes his body wash without a word, moving to shampoo his hair. Swapping between the brutally frigid air and the comforting warm water under the shower head, you both race to finish up quickly. Once satisfied, Wonwoo shuts off the faucet and grabs the towels from the hook on the wall. He hands you one before stepping out to dry himself. A spare toothbrush waits on the counter when you exit the stall.
Wonwoo leaves first, heading back to his room to dress. It gives you the opportunity to look in the mirror for the first time. Your skin glows, both from the steam and Wonwoo’s attention. Across your throat, bruises cluster like a necklace, splotches of darkness maring the skin. Unfolding the towel, you find more littered across your breasts, and an impressive one on the inside of your thigh. 
After the shock fades, exhaustion creeps back in. It had to be far into the early hours of the morning. You hope Mingyu stayed with Lisa at your shared apartment. Having to face Wonwoo in the morning was enough horror, but if Mingyu heard anything then you would never be able to look him in the eye again despite having heard your roommate and him more times than you can count.
Returning to Wonwoo’s room, you see him already under the covers, spread out on his stomach with his face squashed into the pillow. On his desk sits a tshirt and a pair of old shorts. Hanging the towel up in his bathroom, you snag the shirt and pull it on.
Finding your pants, you fish out your phone and see the time: 3:47AM. A few missed calls from Amina, several dozen texts from the group chat, and one from Lisa that reads “You better not be where I think you are” clutter the screen. 
There's no point in arguing the accusation. She has your location, you know she checked it before she went to bed. And in the morning you’ll have to answer every inane question that pops into her head. But for now, you need to sleep.
Sliding open the group text, you send a quick “I'm alive, see u in the morning for brunch?” tossing your phone aside.
Your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light.
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The dream you’re lost in is lovely. A faceless figure bends you over a desk, your heated face pressed against the glossy wood. Naked as the day you were born, nothing protecting your nipples from rubbing against the cold surface, hardening until you hiss from sensitivity. Large warm palms massage your ass, hands pushing upwards, lightly parting the cheeks to give him more leverage to lick at your leaking hole. You can feel him moan, echoing your own sounds of pleasure as he indulges. One hand finds its way back to his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, holding him in place as you rise on tiptoes to move against his mouth. He feels familiar but it doesn’t matter who he is, more so what he plans to do. Just as a thumb swipes against your other hole, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips, it all comes crashing down.
You claw at the tendrils of pleasure slipping past to no avail. Harsh whispers outside your door pull you awake as they gain volume. It isn’t out of the ordinary to hear snippets of your roommates’ conversations as they pass down the hall towards their own rooms. Having the first room off the kitchen was the sacrifice you made to have a bigger closet and a better view. Usually though, Lisa and Amina had the decency to not have a full blowout so early, and on a weekend no less.
As the whispers crescendo into a one sided screaming match, you make out Lisa and Mingyu’s voices on the other side of the thin wood. 
“Mingyu if you don’t move out of my way there will be TWO BODIES TO CLEAN UP.” 
Lisa is pissed, using a tone of voice saved for rare occasions. Occasions you rarely witnessed Mingyu be on the receiving end of. Whatever he had done, he better pray Lisa forgives him. He also better pray you forgive him for working Lisa’s temper up so early in the morning.
“Shut the fuck up!” you yell, voice thick with sleep, refusing to open your eyes against the light trickling in from the window above. Snuggling deeper in the soft covers, you try to force yourself back asleep, hoping to reunite with the anonymous dream man.
When did the window get above your bed? 
You shoot up, instantly regretting the decision. Splinters of pain shoot behind your left eye causing you to collapse back into the pillows to find reprieve. The grumble next to you sends your heart racing.
“I’m going to kill her,” a gravely male voice threatens.
Turning on your side, you brave the torturous sunlight to catch Wonwoo’s profile. His face is scrunched in annoyance, eyes shut as he too tries to get lost in the blankets. He drags the comforter over your heads, pulling you towards him to hide in the curve of your throat.
It all comes rushing back. Going home with him, your dirty deeds, the shared shower. You beg the powers that be to kill you when you remember how you begged with embarrassing ease.
Outside his door, Lisa bellows and forces the door open; sending it cracking against the wall with the force. 
The blanket rips down, uncovering who's hiding underneath. She only manages to pull it below your shoulder before you and Wonwoo realize what's happening and clutch at the fabric. Thank god you both are wearing clothes.
“What the fuck?” Wonwoo’s voice is acidic as he looks to Mingyu over Lisa’s head. Mingyu at least has the decency to look apologetic as Lisa acts like an overly concerned mother who just found her daughter with a boy in her bed.
“See? Y/N is alive, we can leave now,” Mingyu tries in vain to placate his girlfriend. Lisa snatches her hand away from him when he attempts to pull her out of Wonwoo’s room.
Lisa’s eyes take in your tousled hair, the bruises at both your necks, the clothes littered on the floor haphazardly. She isn’t stupid, she knows exactly what has happened. Lisa also knows Wonwoo wouldn’t take advantage of you, but she is still protective nonetheless. The amused look spreading across her face nearly sends you out the window and to the cement several stories below.
“Oh my god, are you fifteen?” Her question is pointed at Wonwoo, catching the string of hickies marking your neck.
“How about you get the fuck out of my room?” Wonwoo bites, raising his voice. He burrows under your chin, dragging the blanket over his head once again.
“We’ll talk about this later!” Lisa calls as Mingyu finally drags her out the door, her voice is muffled by the slam of it shutting but you clearly hear her yell, “Brunch is in an hour!” 
Finally left alone, you mind races to prepare for the interrogation waiting for you. Wonwoo appears to be unaware of any such troubles. Cuddling down into the swell of your breasts, he’s already trailing back towards sleep. 
Despite yourself, the hand stuck under him rises up to gently trace shapes across the expanse of his back. The warm skin lulls you into a trance as the memories from the hours prior replay.
“Are you sure I can stay?” A deep yawn warps your voice. You’re  already halfway under the covers, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. If you have to stay awake any longer you’ll have a meltdown.
“Yes.” His face is still pushed into his pillow, voice distorted by the barrier and slurred with his sleep. “Now shut up and sleep.”
And you do just that. Shocking, given you’re a horrible bed partner; tossing and turning most of the night, waking frequently. Seungcheol experienced many grumpy mornings courtesy of your poor sleep hygiene after a sleepover. But in Wonwoo’s bed, your restlessness decides to take the night off, allowing you to sleep like a rock.
It can’t have been more than a couple hours before you awake again. Despite the short snooze, you’re more rested than you’ve been in months. Stretching with a yawn, you find what roused you awake. 
Somehow Wonwoo found you in his sleep, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, body firm against your back. He’s hot skin and hard muscle, the tent in his boxers sliding roughly across the naked skin of your thighs. Cursing yourself for forgoing the shorts he laid out, you try and twist away only for Wonwoo’s length to settle between the dip of your ass.
You freeze solid. Listening to the sound of his breathing stop then even out once again. Waiting to confirm he’s still asleep, you try moving away again only for his hips to press against you once you wiggle against him. Body acting on its own, your spine curls, sending your ass back into his crotch. 
And then Wonwoo’s arm around your waist flexes and he thrusts forward. 
Shit.
“Can I help you?” he asks, face buried somewhere between your shoulder blades, nose tracing your spine until he finds the bare skin of your neck to leave heated gossamer kisses.
There’s nothing left to lose. You’ve already fucked. Wonwoo face to face with your most intimate parts, and you the same. You begged him to cum inside you for Christ's sake. Giving another curl of your hips, you decide to meet his challenge.
“Can you?” you whisper into the darkness, eyes sliding close again as a tired breath leaves your nose. It's less of a goad, and more of a subtle beg for his attention.
Wonwoo drags the hand wrapped around your waist downward, wedging it between your thighs gently. You’re already wet from the brief movements against one another. He wastes no time, immediately framing your clit with two fingers, teasing friction to warm you up. The first twitch into his hand has his fingers dropping, pushing into your entrance as you parts your legs to make more room. His movements are sluggish but he placates your want the best he can.
One of your hands slides under the covers, moving behind your back to grab him. The unmistakable heat greets you through the fabric of his underwear. His breath stutters against your back, his chest pressed tightly against your back like a second skin. Wonwoo jerks forward through your fist, clothed tip prodding against the soft curve of your ass when you reach the base.
Continuing to move just like that, you both are more than content to get off like this, much too tired to put in any real effort. But when you push down his boxer just enough to feel the hot velvet skin of his tip against the dip of your spine, leaking from light touches, Wonwoo decides he wants more. Needs more. 
He pushes your hand away, directing himself between your legs, resting his tip at your entrance. With shallow thrusts forward, he lets himself catch on the ring of muscle just inside, barely parting your walls. The thought of him returning deep inside you, condom nowhere to be found, makes you drool. At some point Wonwoo’s hand finds your waist again, this time under the fabric of the flimsy t-shirt. The thick cotton bunches across your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples while his hand splays between and pulls you against him.
You have half a mind to let him fuck you like this, raw, half asleep, tucked under the covers in the silence of his room. The other half blares with sirens and red lights flashing DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! 
The louder part of your brain, the one that sounds suspiciously like when Amina scolded you for not using condoms with Seungcheol after getting an IUD, wins. 
It takes all the strength you possess  to break the trance Wonwoo has. His lips have taken to mouthing at the back of your neck, his nose tracing the notches of your spine while his tongue sends goosebumps blooming.
“Condom.” you finally manage to breathe out, voice pushing past the thick blanket of lust and fatigue.
The hand on your chest flies off, moving in the direction of the bedside table. Within seconds Wonwoo wraps himself in the latex and pushes inside.
The stretch is perfect, muscles already accommodating his languid thrusts inside you. His hips are tucked tightly along your ass, barely a sliver of space between your bodies. One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches back under your shirt to thumb your sore nipples, letting a heavy flesh rest in his palm. The arm propped under your head reaches out, Wonwoo’s fingers twisting in the pillow cases. The web of veins and muscles flex with each cant, almost ripping the fabric of the sheet apart when you clench around him. 
As if having a mind of its own, a hand trails up his neck, cradling the back of his head and tangling in short locks of hair. Wonwoo hitches his chin over your shoulder, leaning forward to moan right into your ear. Your other hand takes the abandoned post at your clit, determined to make yourself cum and pass back out in the next five minutes. 
Unlike the explosions earlier, your orgasm crawls up slowly, bubbling to the surface in a smooth simmer. Your thighs tighten, twitching as the pot boils over and melting you into Wonwoo’s chest. He follows you over the edge quickly, hips continuing their fluid rhythm until they stutter against your ass; shuddering breaths leaving his chest, a quiet groan of satisfaction punctuating his content. You can’t move even if your life depends on it, heaviness settling in your muscles like concrete.
You're already descending back into the realm of dreams when Wonwoo slips away.
Wonwoo’s soft snores jolt you back. You’re far too awake to try joining him. And you can’t just stay in his room forever. Glancing around the room, you devise an escape plan. Wonwoo’s position doesn’t lend any subtlety, any effort to move from under him requires you to lift his entire weight.
You sit still for another minute, contemplating the potential pros and cons if he is awake to see you run, away from the sanctuary of his room and into the reality sitting beyond the door. Precisely as you decide to deal with whatever teasing he’ll no doubt hurl your way, Wonwoo shifts, burrowing back into the pillow on his side to provide easy access. Waiting with bated breath, you’re relieved when the muscles of his back expand with a deep inhale as he settles in slumber once again.
Springing out of bed, you collect your phone and wrinkled clothes. The shocking level of cleanliness and organization the room possesses for a man his age aids your quest. However, your underwear appears to be a lost cause. With haste, you search under the bed, eyes scouring the area around his desk, even sneaking a quick glance back towards him to see if the missing garment is mixed with the pillows. All is fruitless as the bright pink garments have disappeared, gone without a trace.
After slipping on your pants with impressive speed, you're out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Body on autopilot, you tiptoe towards the front door.  
The cracked door of Mingyu’s room where Lisa is no doubt waiting to ambush lingers just ahead. You don’t dare to breathe as you breeze past and ruin her plans. The heavy metal of the front door groans at your pull, tensing as noise echoes in the hallway behind you. You’re swift, slipping between the crack in the door frame and into the stairwell before Lisa can even call out your name. By the time Lisa is able to pull the front door back open, you’re down the stairs and halfway through the lobby, beelining for the busy street outside.
Everyone on the street can tell you’re taking a walk of shame; their judgment burning into your skull with each step closer to home. The tale tell signs are clear as day: messy hair, t-shirt clearly belonging to someone else, eyes downcast as you move along the congested sidewalk of a Saturday morning. The only solace is the neck of Wonwoo's shirt covering a majority of the marks staining your skin. 
You don’t breathe until you round the block of your apartment. Thankfully the lobby is empty and so is the elevator as you ride up in stifling silence. Slipping through the crack of the sliding doors, you rush the remaining distance and finally find your way into sanctuary.
The door clicks shut, and the dull thud of your head meeting metal rings a second later; the cool melt against the sweat on your brow is a lovely reprieve.
The sound of a throat clearing down the hall less so.
Glaring over your shoulder, you find Amina leaning over the kitchen island, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Lisa clearly informed her of the morning's findings.
Her lips twitch with humor, choking out, “Have a good night?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, launching off the door and to your room. Sharp laughter meets your back.
Hiding away in the bathroom, you cloak yourself in steam and scrub away any remnants of the night. Starting with the piney smell of Wonwoo’s body wash. 
You run through the facts despite wanting nothing more than forgetting the entire ordeal. 
Fact: Wonwoo isn’t as horrible as Seungcheol made you believe.
Opinion: He’s still infuriating.
Fact: You slept with Wonwoo.
Opinion: It wasn’t half bad.
Fact: You won’t do it again.
Thirty minutes later, the hot water runs out and you’re forced back into reality.
She can’t look in the mirror, knowing exactly what you’ll see. The proof that can’t be scrubbed away, the proof that the you let Wonwoo fuck you silly, and that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. 
Some time later, hidden amongst the piles of blankets littering your bed, you mope. The hood of your sweatshirt tied tightly around your head leaving only your face visible. The TV hums with the drunk gibberish of the reality tv show cast as they laugh and cry over something innocuous.
A soft knock on the door breaks your focus, Amina appearing in the opening.
“Are you still coming to breakfast?” She asks.
“Don’t feel good.”
“Y/N,” Amina sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s not that bad.”
You almost swallow your tongue. Of all your friends, Amina dislikes Wonwoo the most. She’s polite as she can be for Lisa and Mingyu’s sake, but everyone knows they get on as well as fire and water. 
“Who are you?” you question, eyes widening at the impersonator perched at your feet.
Amina cackles in response, and you can’t help but join. 
“You had fun, right?” Amina asks, waiting for your nod before continuing.“Okay, then who cares?”
“You don’t?” 
“No,” Amina sighs. “You’ve been…” 
She pauses, weighing her next words. “...down, since Seungcheol left. Maybe this is what you needed to get back out there.”
You start to object but fail to find any evidence against her claim. Seungcheol leaving turned your world upside down. You couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to make things work. But there was nothing for you in Seattle, just like there was nothing for him in New York. Other than each other. Somehow it’s much harder when no one is to blame other than unchangeable circumstances.
Amina rubs your knee over the covers. “It’s not my business who you sleep with. Unless you bring him here and I hear you, then I reserve the right to kill you both.” 
“Trust me, it won’t be happening again.”
“Why?” Now it’s Amina’s turn to be shocked. “Was it that bad?”
“No!” You blurt, face heating at the sudden outburst. “It was just a one time thing. Get it out of the system.”
Amina hums. Silence falling between you.
“So… was he better than Seungcheol?” Amina asks like she doesn’t care either way but you know she’s curious. She heard enough times about the lack of chemistry between you and Seungcheol for to have a vested interest in your sex life.
Truthfully, he was. The best experience with Seungcheol paled in comparison next to your night with Wonwoo. 
Taking silence as an answer, Amina stands.
“Get dressed. Eva is already on the way here to pick us up.” 
She leaves with out another word.
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Across town, Wonwoo contemplates the ramifications of murder. 
The morning after a night like his should have him walking around like the sun shined out of his ass. Instead, the most annoying person in the city chose to rain on his parade. That person is coincidentally his best friend's girlfriend.
If it hadn’t been for Lisa’s shouts this morning, he’s more than confident you would have agreed to a repeat of the nights events. Maybe even two or three if he was lucky.
But no, you sprinted from his bed the second he feigned sleep. Watching through barely cracked eyes, he almost broke his cover when you nearly fell head first into the door knob, hastily trying to pull your pants up and walk at the same time. 
Wonwoo let you go, no snide comments or crude remarks. He knew if he wanted you to return to his bed then the best way was to bite his tongue. Goading had worked the first time, now he’d have to let your curiosity get the better of you. You would come back sooner or later, and he'd be ready when it happened.
He’d given you a few minutes to find your way out, hoping you avoided Lisa and saved you both the embarrassment. The slam of the front door and lack of screaming informed him of your success. Wanting to make sure you were long gone before he exited his room, Wonwoo took his time brushing his teeth. Catching himself in the mirror, his reflection gave a self-satisfied smirk. The stain of your teeth and lips contrasted against his skin and his back stung along the raised red welts from your nails.
Flicking off the light, Wonwoo heads towards back to his room. Lisa will demand audience sooner or later and it's better if he rips the bandaid off now. In his peripheral, a swatch of pale pink fabric tucked underneath one of the legs of his dresser catches his attention. Ducking down, he puls at the stretch of cotton. Lifting them up to inspect the out of place garment, Wonwoo finds himself face to face with your panties. He huffs a laugh before crumbling them in his hand, and tossing them in the hamper on the way out of his room. 
Lisa waits for him at the dining table; commanding the head seat like a mob boss.
From her perch, she watches him with keen interest that makes his bowl of cereal taste like mush. Mingyu already excused himself to take a shower before Wonwoo sat down, attempting to avoid the ensuing blow out. 
Every question is answered with one word answers or dismissive grunts. Even Lisa’s attempts to bait him into unrelated arguments roll off. Lisa chisels away at any sign of weakness but Wonwoo refuses to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. It’s none of her business. Even if you’re her best friend.
Wonwoo counts his blessings when a call comes through her phone, the vibration on the table interrupting her attempt to burn a hole through his skull. Lisa rises to answer, pacing the kitchen while the feminine voice coming out the receiver chatters on. She ducks her head into Mingyu’s room, bidding him farewell. As she passes Wonwoo again on her way out, she gives him another furious look to let him know she isn’t done with their “conversation”. 
To rub salt in the wound, Wonwoo sends her off with an overly friendly smile and a wiggle of his fingers. He wipes down his face when the door slam shuts, shoulders dropping.  He knew hooking up with you might cause problems. He didn’t know they would become evident so quickly, but problems nonetheless. 
Worth it, he thinks 
The look on her face when she came for him made anything Lisa planned to throw his worth the price.
Wonwoo didn’t care what any of them had to say, you both were grown adults. He wanted to sleep with and you wanted to sleep with him. End of conversation. Anyone else’s opinion meant nothing.
And if things go the way he thinks they will, he’ll get to see you in his bed again.
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idlesana · 5 months
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can i request a sana drabble!?
phone sex w r, when sana is too insatiable while away from r, and has to get herself off ;( gp btw!
gotchu, great prompt btw, and happy new year! this is a special for everyone before i go back to working on my long-fics
one call
gp minatozaki sana x female reader ; smut
summary: sana always has you for her needs, so what does she do when she doesn’t have you there?
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sana wasn’t sana if not carrying herself with an insatiable libido.
it wasn’t her fault she was overflowing in lust, and it wasn’t like you’d complain, obviously. she just was how she was, and how she is, is needy, whether it’s total PG attention and pda, or, something more graphic.
and drunk sana wasn’t drunk sana if her horniess wasn’t multiplied by tenfold.
being a clingy kissy drunk was sure to cause her to become absolutely incurable when it became just the two of you, all twice functions ending with her keeping you up all night.
and this would’ve, been one of those occasions, if only her and the rest of j-line hadn’t had scheduling that kept her in japan over new year’s eve and day.
momo, luckily enough, had some connections to some parties local to the area, and sana almost gave in to fucking her (not like you’d mind— both you and sana had talked about your subtle attractions to the older japanese girl) but she’d slipped out of the party early to go to bed. lame.
so here sana was, beyond intoxicated, a bulge growing in her pants, leaving her needier than ever, and without you.
she knew she had to handle it before she was too far gone into her lust or drunkenness, so, she found herself scurrying to the luxurious yet minute bathroom, leaving her with no room, cramped, and ridiculously horny.
she leaned against the cool marble counter of the sink, fishing her phone out with shaky hands, messily inputting her passcode and scrolling to your contact, immediately hitting call.
sana placed her phone between her jaw and shoulder, holding it upright as she unzipped her pants, the ringing hurting her head.
she only managed to shimmy her pants down, not getting to the underwear before she had to give her irrationally painful erection some attention, stroking herself through her boxers, breaths growing heavy.
she didn’t even notice the ringing stopped, only clocking it once you greeted her.
“hello..?” your voice sounded gravely, but pitch still high, just how she liked. sana bit back a moan, stroking herself a little quicker.
“h-hey, pretty.” she stuttered, tone laced with lust and voice just as low. her heavy breaths were panted out into the phone, and you quickly realized what this call was about.
“hey, sana. did you need something?” you pushed up on your bed, leaning back against the headboard and clenching your thighs shut. you were playing dumb, you and sana both knew that, but that’s the route you’d take whenever sana called you like this.
“ ‘just wanted to hear how your day went, is all.” sana whined, quitting her stroking only to push her boxers beneath her balls, lifting her shirt up with her free hand, and letting her hard cock hit her stomach.
“ahhh,” you paused, stretching, garnering a light, airy moan out of yourself, which successfully made sana twitch, “i see.”
she let her pointer finger rub against her leaking tip, not holding back from moaning softly, moving to rub her palm over herself, gathering the precum to lube herself up.
“i’m okay, today was okay. i had a shoot.” you sighed, dreamily thinking of what your girlfriend was doing to herself, desperately trying to ignore the pulsing of your own nether region.
“oh yeah?” she finally, finally, moves to stroke herself, instantly moaning at the feeling, rubbing her hand up and down her length. “what were you wearing?” she squeezes her tip softly, whimpering out.
“hmm, well, i had some different outfits.” you listen to the increase in the speed of her breathing, savoring in the small, pretty whines she lets out. “the first one was a pretty little slip, backless, with some cute shoes and diamond jewelry.”
sana rubs herself faster, giving a small hum for you to keep going.
“and then the next one was a skirt and this nice corset top, cropped obviously” you pause, letting out a soft moan of your own as you stretched out once more, smiling softly to yourself.
sana runs her hand up to her tip, squeezing it softly as she moans, “a-ah! please,” she runs her hand down her length again, continuing with her motions, “please keep talking, b-baby.” her voice is whiny and cute, just how you liked her, and you could almost hear how turned on she was.
“the other outfits weren’t too interesting, but, it’s okay, what mattered was going to the hot tubs after with nayeon and jihyo unnie.”
the thought of you in a swimsuit alone has sana nearly doubling over, soft “oh fuck.” dropping from her lips in a whine.
“i took some photos all throughout the day of myself, if you wanted to see.”
sana moves quick, taking the hem of her shirt to her mouth, holding it up, as she turns the phone on speaker and swipes to your text conversation.
“yes please.” she mutters through the fabric, slowing her stroking to go back to teasing her tip, running her thumb over it.
“mmm, okay, baby.” you move quick too, scrolling through and picking only the best photo for sana, wanting her to get the relief as soon as possible.
you smile as you find one of you in the swimsuit, a selfie from above of you looking up at the camera, doe eyed, and your whole body was in frame, cleavage on very obvious display. you select it and one other, a mirror selfie of the same pretty swimsuit, perfectly highlighting your features. you send them both over, waiting for sana’s response. and you get it soon after, sana groaning out, which turns into a shakey moan, as she starts up stroking herself again.
“f-fuck, wow, you look so— mgh, so good.” she’s stroking herself quicker that before, now imagining fucking you, pounding into you just how she wants. she swears she can almost feel you, absolutely soaking her length and clenching against her.
“god, y/n, i need you.” she finally drops the sweet act, back arching as she makes subtle thrusts into her hand as it falls back on her.
“i can tell, wish you were here.” you mumble, your own arousal getting to you now. “want you in me, always so big, filling me so well.”
sana shudders, staring at the images, trying her hardest not to let her eyes flutter shut. she imagines just how you’d stretch on her, just how you’d moan beneath her as she had her way with you.
“f-fuck, i’d fuck you so— shit, so, so good.” she feels herself losing it, so close to release, and she whines out, “god, you’re so pretty baby.”
you whine right back, and it gets sana stroking herself even quicker, her own pre-cum rolling down her length, veins defined and just so hard.
“want it so bad, sa-chan, would want you to fill me up, want all that load in me.”
and that’s what does it for sana, her hips stutter and she thrust into her hand, moaning shamelessly now, curses falling from her lips heavenly as you can only listen, so, so frustrated. she spills out all over her hand, whimpering softly to herself as she strokes herself into sensitivity, having to stop her movements.
“thank you,” sana pants, letting her shirt drop and moving to clean her hand, “i miss you.”
“of course, sana. you know i miss you too, even more so after that.” you groan, rolling on your bed, ignoring the aching wetness forming in your underwear.
“hey, hey, don’t be upset, maybe i can help you after my party?” she chuckles, and you’re quick to respond.
“oh. definitely.”
she was in for quite the night.
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froggibus · 3 months
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Valentine's NSFW - Overwatch Men
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Pairings: Baptiste, Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Ramattra & Reaper x fem! reader (reader uses she/her pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
CW: cheesy Valentines things, aftercare, manhandling, bondage, role play, toys, shibari, praise, degradation, dirty talk, oral (giving & receiving) unprotected sex, p in v, cum stuffing, overstimulation, cervix fucking, teasing
i flopped so hard this Valentine’s Day but here’s some overwatch content 😭 im sorry my fellow lucio enjoyers i simply couldn’t do it i could not write him for valentines
Baptiste:
he’s a busy man, it’s a rare occasion that he has a day off, let alone two 
wants to make the most of his time with you 
takes his time to decorate your room, even changing the sheets to nice red ones and lighting some candles
for him it’s all about the ambience 
takes his time to seduce you, starting with kissing you, then moving down your neck and so on
takes his time with your chest, his expert hands turning you into a moaning mess 
when you’re finally so wet that you’re begging him just to touch you, he knows you’re ready
has you spread out on the bed, his head buried between your legs 
it’s been so long since he was able to eat you out, it’s like a feast to him 
doesn’t stop until you’ve came on his face at least twice, until his beard and chin are dripping with your juices 
he’s so gentle but so intentional with his touches 
teases your clit with his cock and laughs at the way you squirm and plead for him to put it in 
once he puts it in, it’s not coming out until he’s fully satisfied 
the man is insatiable, he’s drilling his cock into you like he’s trying to push it straight into your womb
it brushes your cervix and makes you wince, the pain only adding to the overwhelming pleasure you feel
loves cumming inside of you but saves it for special occasions like today
his aftercare is unmatched, the man has a basket of things to help soothe you after the fact 
he’ll massage your shoulders and talk you down
and always forces you to pee because god forbid you get a UTI (although he’d take extra good care of you then, too)
Cassidy:
wants to try absolutely anything
he’s always a kinky mf but Valentine’s is his excuse to dial it up to 11
buys you cute underwear that you can show off to him 
wants to roleplay 
once you get in bed with this man you’re not getting out all night 
he’ll have your hands cuffed behind your back while he watches you try to ride him 
just watching you struggle to take his cock without bracing yourself with his hands is enough to have him cumming
it’s just so cute how pathetic you are, dragging your walls up and down his thick cock and whining how it’s “too much”
gets tired of your whining and has you flipped in doggy, your head pressed into the mattress
this man is breeding you for hours
even after your pussy is aching and dripping with his cum, he’ll try to keep going 
switches between praise and degradation so fast he gives you whiplash
“so good f’me…takin’ my cock so well.”
spanks you if you get too quiet
“fuck, you’re sucha slut for me, aren’t ya?”
there will be bruises on your wrists from the handcuffs
when he finally lets you out of the bed, you can’t even walk on your own
so he runs you a hot bath with nice smelling salts, candles and lotions 
Genji:
kinky mf 
he’s probably been preparing for tonight for months 
has some of that aphrodisiac chocolate and definitely feeds it to you
so much foreplay 
he has you laying against his chest, legs spread out over his own, your pussy wide open for his fingers to dip into 
he loves playing with you and teasing you, listening to you whimper that’s it’s ’too much’ and you ‘can’t take it anymore’
your cute whines must make him want to bury his cock in you and pound you 
but tonight is about you and he wants to take his time 
definitely brought some toys with him, like a magic wand and a rabbit 
has the vibrator pressed against your clit while he fingers you
even after you cum a few times and whine about how you’re getting overstimulated, he still wants to fuck you until your brain is mush
it’s sweet relief when he finally puts the toys away and lays you down on the bed
you weakly spread your legs around his hips and give him access to your puffy pussy
feels so fucking good 
he gets so deep inside you every time, and he’s going slow enough that you can feel it every time his cockhead brushes your walls
whispers praises in your ear about how good you are, about how you just need to give him one more and he’ll be done 
“one more” turns into an extra hour 
by the end of the night, you’re completely fucked out and drooling, your pussy aching from how good he took care of you
helps you clean yourself up, planting kisses on your burning skin  
Hanzo:
SHIBARI
he’s been waiting so long for you to want to try it
you run to the bedroom when you get back from dinner 
Hanzo is so patient waiting outside until you finally yell come in 
you’ve stripped yourself to just your lingerie and you’re kneeling on the floor, holding silky red ropes in your hands 
he’s instantly hard just seeing you submit to him 
binds you up so nicely in the pretty little ropes, making sure you’re properly tied but keeping all your good places on display
manhandles you in front of him so he can prod at that pretty mouth with his cock
smears pre all of your lips and cheeks before pushing past your mouth and finally feeling your tongue on his length
you look so cute and helpless sitting beneath him and slobbering on his cock 
probably straight up carries you by the ropes on your back and tosses you into the bed 
you are doing it in every position tonight 
bent over, balls slapping your clit with every thrust 
on top of him, laying on his chest clawing desperately while he pounds you
against the wall, over the bed, on your knees, on his lap
he’s taking you any way he can
ends it in a mating press, undoing some of the ropes to offer you enough slack to fold your knees into your chest
leans over and coos about how cute you look with tears and cum smeared on your face
you’re stuffed with cum at the end of the night, laid out in the bed, face on his chest
Ramattra:
has no idea what Valentines is, and even after you explain doesn’t quite understand it
but if it’s important to you…
is teasing you the whole fucking day 
pinning you against the wall and rubbing your pussy until you’re dripping wet, pulling you into his lap when you walk by so you can feel the thrumming in his crotch plate 
he wants you soaked, prepped and ready for him at any time so that when he does decide to take you, he doesn’t have to waste any time
has you cockwarming him while he does work, an arm around your waist to hold you down on his massive length while his other taps away at a keyboard 
you’re squirming and writhing in his lap for more but his grip is like iron 
eventually he gives in to your incessant pleasing
“it’s St Valentines after all”
but don’t even think about trying to disobey him or try anything funny 
pretty much uses you like a flesh light the rest of the night 
the benefit of him being so strong is that he can manoeuvre you in anyway that he wants 
and given that he’s an omnic, he can go all night and never falter 
he’s brutal with his thrusts, pounding into you until your juices are spraying out and coating the plates of his thighs
“Look at how you’re gushing on me,” he teases, “look at how ruined your pussy is.”
probably fucks you until you’re on the verge of falling asleep 
after he’s done with you, when you’re laying and looking al cute and fucked out in his bed
he’ll just brush your hair away from your face. “Happy St Valentine’s, dear.”
Reaper:
he does not give a fuck about Valentine’s Day 
but if it gives him an excuse to take you in anyway he wants, he’s in
absolutely not what he has in mind when you’re binding him to your headboard with handcuffs 
he won’t admit it but he’s into it 
you spend over an hour just teasing him 
rubbing, licking, drooling on his cock, watching the way he shifts uncomfortably with every move 
it’s only after he calls out, “just fuck me or move on, please” that you listen to him 
Reyes never says please so you know he’s desperate 
of course you won’t even think about putting his cock inside of you until he's came in your mouth at least once
when you finally straddle his hips and sink down on his cock, Reaper is beyond impatient 
he’s straining against his handcuffs, telling you what a whore you are and how he can’t wait to get out of these and fuck you silly
you ride him painfully slow, scratching up his chest with your nails as you slide up and down his cock
eventually you get desperate and start bouncing even more, forcing his cock as deep as it can go
just as you’re about to cum, Reaper snaps the bedposts and frees his hands 
you’re in shock from the pure fucking strength it took and have no time to react before he’s flipping you on your back and taking you 
the muscles in his arms are strained as he props himself up above you, veins protruding 
just for teasing him, you’re not leaving the room until you’ve come at least three or four times 
or unless you beg for mercy (though Gabe is a wild card, and it’s a 50/50 if he’ll even let you go)
masterlist | overwatch masterlist
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nexysworld · 4 months
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summary: Brat tamed by your step dad. pairing: Step Dad Toji x Fem!Reader tags: NSFW, Smut, Stepcest, Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Pussy Slapping, Spanking, Mean!Toji, Degradation Kink, Unprotected Sex, Manhandling, Dub-con, fem receiving oral, Reader is 18+, MDNI wc: 2.4k
Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists a/n: this is my first time writing for JJK and Toji, but god am I down BAD for this man. I wanna practice and write more because....yeah. 😏 Title based on the song. Also special thanks to @kaitkatme for beta-reading this for me.
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“Fuck off Megumi, you’re always breathing down my neck!” You yelled, chucking the pillow across the room at your step brother. “Seriously, get out!”
“I’m only doing what I’m supposed to as your big brother!” He yelled back, easily dodging the weaponized cushion. “Dudes like that are only looking for one thing. They’re dangerous.” “Really? You sure? I would say you’d know, but I don’t think you’re getting any either.” You replied, rolling your eyes. 
“Whatever, give me the phone.” His hand was stuck out expectantly.  “No way! I’m an adult, I can go out with whoever I want.” 
The two of you tussle back and forth around the room, grappling over the device in your hand. Luckily for you, his back was to your bedroom door, giving you the chance with one good shove to send him staggering backwards into the hallway, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. The door slammed shut with a loud thud, and you clicked the lock to make sure he couldn’t get back in so easily. 
You flopped back down onto the plush bed, intending to return to what you were doing when noise caught your attention. Loud stomping, followed by some muffled arguing – you recognized one of the voices as your step dad, he must’ve been woken up by the argument. 
As the voices got closer you could make out the tail end of the conversation.  “Why don’t you just buckle up and be a father for once.” “Will you stop naggin’ me, she ain’t even my kid.” “She calls you dad.” “So do you, fuckin’ brat. And you don’t listen to me either.”  “You really want her skulking around with one of those mercs? Bet that’ll look real good on you, old man. Your rivals joking about going through rounds with your slutty daughter.” 
“Tch, fine. But only because I’m sick of your fuckin’ nagging kid. We both know she isn’t goin’ to listen t’me.” His footsteps were heavy as they closed in on your room. The front door of the house slammed close downstairs, Megumi having retreated. There was a brief silence outside your door as he pondered what to say before his heavy fist landed on the door a few times. “Open up.”
“Don’t think I will.” You added, not feeling like being lectured again, and especially not by the deadbeat who fucks your mom. Or did fuck your mom, no one really knew where mom was these days. 
There was a huff of frustration as he banged on the door again. “I ain’t askin’ twice.”
“Then don’t.” You lazily went back to scrolling on your phone. 
“You fuckin’ brats are really startin’ to piss me off today.” A loud boom rattled the walls, nearly giving you a heart attack. Your bedroom door had been kicked right off the hinges, the top half of the door tangling by what was left of a single screw, the bottom half launched into the wall across the room. 
You’d seen Toji go at it with Megumi before, tossing all sorts of things at him with his absurd inhuman strength, but you’d never been the target of that anger before. Your mouth opened in shock, ready to say something, but words caught in your throat as he marched towards you.
“First I’m woken up because the two of you can’t keep yer traps shut. Then I get an earful about you running off with some merc kid – thought I raised you better than that.” “You didn’t raise me at all!” Toji had been around as long as you could remember, probably the closest thing you’d ever have to a real dad. Except he only really acted like a father when he was trying to get in your moms pants – or when you made cute bait for a potential bounty he was trying to collect on.  “Shut it.” He said, towering over you. “Screw you!” You spat indignantly.  “I ain’t dealin’ with any more shit today.” It always impressed you how fast he was, for such a large buff guy. Even still, it shocked you how quickly he managed to flip your positions, him sitting on the bed, you bent over his lap. The only noise you could get out was a yelp as his hand collided with your clothed butt cheek, the red hot warmth of pain radiating outwards.  “What happened to that filthy mouth?” He asked mockingly, this time tugging your pajama pants down to expose the plush mounds of your ass. “Come on princess, you wanna talk like a big bad adult, then talk.” He brought his hand down again, this one knocking the wind out of you, making your legs kick behind you tangled in your pajama pants – fat hot tears forming in your waterline. “No? Nothing?” He asked again, as he continued his onslaught, large hand imprinting its shape on you. “That’s what I thought. Shoulda knocked some manners into both you brats forever ago.” 
He shoved you off of him, making you tumble head first onto the floor. Your face was red with anger, cheeks puffed out, righting yourself just enough to look up at him, still tangled in your own pants. He looked down at you amused, scanning your form. He grabbed your face with his hand, squishing your cheeks together, forcing you into a kissy face. “Now that’sa look.” He mused. “Acting like you’re ready to go run around with boys, but can’t even stop snottin’ and cryin’ like a kid after getting spanked by your Daddy.” You wanted to say something back, insult him, tell him to shut up. But you couldn’t, ass sore, mouth still pushed out between his fingers. Instead, you glared him down as best you could.
“What was your plan anyway? Hope he’d take you somewhere fancy, call you pretty names while he licked that little cunt? Or were you hopin’ he’d be mean, put you in your place.” He chuckled, leaning forward so your faces were close together again. “Maybe Megumi was right – ‘m gonna have to listen to stories from half the guild about my slutty little girl, aren’t I?”  “N-no!” You managed to squeak out at the accusation, it fell on deaf ears as he continued rambling his own thoughts. “Only thing I can’t understand is why you’d pick some loser I work with. When ‘m sure there’s plenty of punks crawling around this city, ready to get their dicks wet.” His eyes narrowed, a smug ear to ear grin taking over his features. “Oh, I get it now, you want someone just like your Daddy, don’t you?”  Heat pooled between your legs at his words, cheeks on fire with embarrassment more than anger now. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping he didn’t notice. He let go of your face finally, red finger marks lingering on your skin. Despite having the chance to speak, you were stunned into silence. 
He noticed.
Of course he noticed. 
Toji yanked you up by your arm, roughly pulling you into his lap, pressed against his chest with your head over his shoulder. His large, rough fingers trailed down the semi-circle of your ass cheek to dip lower from behind, gently brushing against your slicked folds.  “Looks like I’m right on the mark.” “N-nuh uh!” You denied, exasperated.
“Dumb little brat, runnin’ around looking for trouble when all you need is your Daddy, right here at home.” He played with you a little, stuffing his index finger into your wet heat, his thumb rubbing against your clit in even circular motions. You whined, squirming your legs at the sensation, feeling your walls clamp around the digit. What remained of your dignity was fleeting, as you felt his cock press against your leg through his pants. “Looks like she’s been cryin’ for attention – no wonder you’ve been such a bitch lately. Shoulda known it woulda been easier to just fuck the ‘tude out of you.” 
He pulled his hand out of you so he could toss you unceremoniously onto the bed, ripping your panties and pajama pants off the rest of the way. By the time he yanked your shirt up, your hands were covering your face in embarrassment.  “Nah, none of that shy shit.” He chided, easily gathering both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Look at me, princess.” He used his free hand to force you to meet his gaze again. “You wanted this, remember? So you’re gonna be a good girl and watch while Daddy makes you feel good, understand?” You scrunched up your face in a glare again, still not wanting to give him the satisfaction of absolute obedience. The hand holding your face collided with your cheek in a sharp slap, making your tits bounce a little as you jerked with the motion. “You wanna keep that brat shit up and I’ll just fuck you raw instead, how about that?”  “W-wait no!” You exclaimed.  “S’what I thought.” Your step dad let go of your wrists so he could lift your lower half up, tossing one leg over his shoulder, tongue messily sliding up your slit before lapping at the bead of nerves. Like most things with Toji, he was quick, flicking his tongue side to side before circling it around your clit.  His hands dug into your hips with a bruising grip, you looked up catching the top of his head and eyes between your legs. Eyes squeezing shut in short-lived pleasure. “G-guah!” You made a sound, a mix between a moan and a yelp as you felt a lightly stinging slap to your pussy, eyes shooting back open.  “What did I say?” “T-to watch.” Another slap against your pussy made you squeal. “Then why were your eyes closed, hmm?” “‘M sorry!” Another one, this time angled just right that you managed to feel it against your clit too. “Wh-why?” “You’re sorry, what?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You replied. “Good girl.” Praise from him was rare, and while it was dripping with sarcasm, you couldn’t help the way it made your chest flutter. He resumed his meal between your legs, messily slurping you into his mouth. Your body felt like it was burning up, pleasuring pulsing between your legs each time he applied pressure with his wet muscle to your clit. 
Your back arched in pleasure, legs kicking at his back as you came, hard. “Oh god.” You whined, not able to keep your eyes open this time as waves of pleasure rolled over you, through your stiffened muscles. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care this time, dropping your lower half down so he could wipe your slick from his chin with the back of his hand. 
Your eyes, half lidded, watched as he reached down, pulling himself free of his gray pants. You let out an audible surprised sound as you watched him stroke himself a few times. It was thick from tip to base, uncut with pearly beads of precum that dribbled onto your thigh with each stroke. He ran his thumb over the tip, hissing at the sensation before rubbing it along your bottom lip, letting you taste him. Greedily you sucked the digit into your mouth, grinding your hips up when you tasted the slightly bitter liquid.
“Shit. You’re fuckin’ cute, I’ll give you that.” He said, pulling his hand back to line himself up with your entrance. He pushed into you, grunting as your tight walls clenched around him. “Tight as hell too. Relax.” He groaned, sinking inch by inch into you until the tip of his cock pressed snuggly against your cervix. It was overwhelming how full you felt, like you’d be split in half if he were any bigger. 
Not one for patience he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, as he slid out to the tip before slamming back in, watching as you writhed beneath him, gripping the sheets. Your pupils were blown, you could feel his breath against your face again with how close he was in this position.  “Look at you givin’ me those lovey dovey eyes. Want a kiss too?” He asked. “Please?” You nodded, letting go of the bedding to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him. He obliged the request, pressing his lips to yours – rough and slightly chapped. He gave a few shallow thrusts while tangling your tongues together, pulling away just enough to give him a better angle to fuck into you harder.  “S’too much.” You croaked as he set a steady pace, brutally pumping himself inside of you. “S’too much.” You repeated, eyes scrunching shut, overstimulated between the stretch and speed of his movements. “S’okay, you can take it.” He replied, between movements.  You clung to him tightly, a fresh set of tears brimming at your eyes, toes curling with pleasure. “‘D-daddy.” You sobbed out, clawing at his back. Each time he sunk back into you, he hit a special spot, one so deep you’d never reach it on your own. It made stars sparkle on the back of your eyelids. 
“That’s m’girl, let it all out. Gonna fill this bratty little hole up, make sure she remembers who’s in charge, yeah? Gonna be a good girl from now on?” “Mhmm.” You replied, so close to your second orgasm. “Never be bad…nnng…again….” Your muscles tensed, the pressure exploding again as you cried out, second orgasm exhausting the last of your energy. Your velvety walls clamping down were enough to bring him to completion too, his cock twitching as hot cum spurted out, drooling into your spent hole. 
Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you barely registered when Toji pulled out, or when he’d laid down next to you tucking you into his side. Your body naturally curled into his warmth, head sinking into the pillow as sleep pulled you under. 
It wasn’t until you heard the telltale sounds of arguing again did you even bother to crack one eye open. Megumi stood in the broken doorway, looking like steam was coming out of his ears. “What?” Toji asked lazily. “You didn’t want her goin’ with that guy, now she’s not. Problem solved.”  “Problem not solved –” He began, before you chucked a pillow at him again.  “Go away, Megumi.” You groaned, burying your face back into your step dad’s chest to resume your nap, too tired to feel any sense of shame or embarrassment in the moment. 
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oopsdevil · 5 months
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COD + Tropes (pt. 2)
which trope do they fall into when it comes to you.
SIMON GHOST RILEY + BLIND DATE
"i should be home right now" was the first thought simon had when he stepped foot into that fancy restaurant. the most dangerous man of the country, scared of a date.
in retrospect, he had it coming. he knew he shouldn't have let soap set him up with someone whose face he doesn't even know. and he is already sweating, feeling absolutely exposed without his mask and-
he saw you. and his mind went quiet. his only worry right now is how to be a worthy date for you. and yes, you must think he is an idiot for the way he keeps staring, but he can't help it. for once in his life he begs to whoever is listening: let this go right for me.
and someone must have heard him, because it was the best date of his life since you told him you would have preferred a more casual place. his heart skipped a beat when you mentioned you would cook for him on a second date.
now, he loves thinking about that first date, and how the second one turned into the best first kiss, and how the third one turned into you never leaving his bed again.
KYLE GAZ GARRICK + NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR
kyle was never a clumsy guy, so why does he keep tripping on his porch every time he sees his new neighbor? in his mind, you had to be flawed. something! you couldn't possibly be this perfect right? oh except he knows you are. he really tried to push his feelings, but you won his heart in a very simple way. his cat, peanut.
you should have seen his face the day he saw out the window and spotted his cat, comfortably sitting at your home. he came back later that night, but gaz kept it in his mind. and he started noticing it, the way you leave water for peanut in hot summer days and a window open to enter your room on rainy nights. and he just couldn't help it. after HOURS (yes, hours) of self pep talk, kyle knocked your door, offering a nice dinner and the chance to see peanut's own home.
peanut is delighted, specially because how years later, you brought to your shared place his new orange 'sibilings': bear and willow.
JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + LOVE CONFESSION
loud, funny, sarcastic, cheeky. that's soap. but johnny's face couldn't possibly get any more pink while looking at his best friend's sister. he has known you for years, spent dozens of holidays with you, shared hundreds of nights at clubs.
i mean, yeah, he felt like ripping his heart out when you brought your first boyfriend for thanksgiving. and he lied once or twice saying he was close to your house to give you a ride. and now... now maybe it's his age, everything he went through pushing him to chase after the only one who ever crosses his mind, and fuck- are your eyes brighter? he didn't think it was possible.
he thought about how to tell you in a million possible ways. and it came flying out of his mouth the second you told him you broke up with your man. you blushed and gave him a peck that stayed on his mind the rest of the night month.
"oh, me and him broke up last june actually-"
"go out with me"
KÖNIG + SECRET DATING
it was a very difficult mission: lots of planning, lots of packing, tracking, unloadings and-
this shouldn't be a problem. it has never been until now, but all he can think about are your lips while seeing you across the room. considering that you are a part of the 141, he barely ever sees you here, your relationship is exclusively civilian. so you both made a silent pact: no personal interact at work.
and it went well!... for like a day. and you really thought you could keep it a secret, but the way he looked at you and how bad you missed each other... you pushed it a little when you decided to let him sleep in your room.
now, it might be your dizzy head after making out all morning, but you forgot a very basic rule in the army; basically, no privacy. the fact that a superior could walk into your room at any giving moment is annoying, but at this point you were convinced the universe just hated you.
your lieutenant, the very overprotective man who took you under his wing, opened the door that very morning. ghost and könig looked at each other intensely for a long 10 seconds.
an hour, a black eye and a terrible lecture from price to simon later, könig still smiled. at least he didn't have to hide you anymore.
JOHN PRICE + LOVE/HATE RELATIONSHIP
you drive him crazy. he swears everything that comes out of your mouth makes his eyes roll. every petty comment, everytime you put him in his place, how you look at him during reports because you know you make him nervous. he hates when the rest sees the way he can't stand you, and why the fuck do they keep saying is sexual tension? because he gets closer to you when talking? that's purely for intimidation. in his defense, you hate him too! except he has no idea you blush the second he turns around, or how you defend him if another soldier questions his decisions.
feelings hit you both like a train a random night of spring. he heard crying in the hall, so soft he thought he was imagining it. he saw you and instinctively ran to you. in that situation, you just couldn't pretend anymore, you needed a minute to break about everyone and everything that has been pushing you to this moment. he wrapped his big arms around you, giving you the hug and body heat you both have been craving from each other. he internally promised himself to make it right, so his heart would never have to break again at the sight of your tears.
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dazed--xx · 5 months
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SKZ Reaction: He hurts the reader II (Hyung Line)
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A/N: this is for @slayhyunjin one of my favorite followers and I’d like to say a friend now. Merry Christmas hun you wanted them to make up and I did what I could but please remember in part one Minho was a Yandere so his is technically a good ending in his mind but I will have the Maknae line out soon so get the cutest most fluffy Jeongin pics ready cause that was what was promised 😭😂 but anyway I hope y’all enjoy this and it makes y’all a little happy to see that I’m alive and still writing.
Masterlist Part 1
Chan:
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Your phone had been ringing off the charts since you had left your shared apartment with Chan. You stared at the waves of the ocean as the sea breeze kissed your tear stained cheeks. Your fear had dwindled in the hours you had been sitting here on this empty beach. You bite your lip, maybe you did misunderstand. You knew Chan almost better than you knew yourself; which is why you know he’d never cheat on you. You know that she probably did fall or even if she purposely fell Chan was probably innocently helping her up because that’s the type of person he is. Well, you thought he was…that is until that lamp whipped past your head and was sent crashing against the wall. Guilt filled you as you remembered the way Chan pleaded with you not to go. He knew you had nowhere to stay, you weren’t from South Korea though you had lived here for almost 5 years it wasn’t easy for you to make friends as a foreigner wether you fit in or not. You didn’t fit with most of the things that happened around you in this country and without your relationship with Chan though, living here was apart of your dreams growing up, you would have never made the leap into moving here without him and his support. Tears filled your eyes once again as you remembered the only people you have to talk to would probably immediately send Chan over to your location. You hate yourself for wishing he was actually here, you hate how much you feel like you need his insight in what you should do but you did know he’d probably think of an answer logically without including his own emotions into whatever advice he’d give you. You sigh heavily as you lift yourself from the sand and make your way back to your car. Your phone in hand as the special ringtone you had set for Chan blared through the speaker. You almost chuckle to yourself at the irony; he finally called you right after you thought about how much you needed his help. You were relieved to see the comforting texts from his members after they had called but for those few hours you had been gone Chan hadn’t once called you. Pressing the green button you lift the phone to your ear hesitantly as you sit yourself in the drivers seat. .
You almost let out a sob as you heard his tear laced voice ring through your phone “Y-Y/N?” He questioned as he sniffled. You hear him struggling to catch his breath between his sobs “Y/N if you’re there you don’t have to say anything but please just listen..” he pleads, you could tell he was trying to calm his breathing “I-I’m so sorry, I know what you saw with that trainee looked really really bad…b-but I swear I don’t even know that girl. She is—was just a backup dancer for the Case 143 concept but since she made you and me uncomfortable we all agreed she can work with Itzy or Twice.” Your heart clenches at his caring nature which is why the girl still had a job in the first place. “But Her actions and my behavior wasn’t okay and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that and I don’t want to make any excuses like I was angry because that doesn’t make it okay. I should have never gotten that violent, I should have just let you cool off and came to talk to you when we both had calmed down and. For that I’m so sorry and if you don’t want to be with me anymore I’d completely understand honestly I think you shouldn’t be with me anymore because what I did isn’t okay and I know that and i deserve for you to leave—ITS NOT LIKE YOU HIT ME OR ANYTHING!” You exclaim almost fuming at the way he was describing himself “it doesn’t matter. What I did was wrong and I don’t want you to justify it either. I was wrong to do that it makes me sick to my stomach knowing I could have really hurt you. Thank god I didn’t but what if I did? I wasn’t paying attention Y/N you could have gotten seriously hurt what would have happened if it hit you—but it didn’t” you cut him off once again, as tears rolled down your cheeks “Chan are you breaking up with me?” You hear a whimper release from his lips “Why would you want to be with a guy that almost hurt you physically?” He questions “you even said you wanted to get your stuff and leave me because of all this” he cries “why wouldn’t I want to protect you even if it’s from myself? I love you more than anything in this world and that’s why I don’t want you to forgive me because the idea of you getting hurt by my own hand makes me disgusted I can’t even look at you without feeling like shit knowing I really fucked this up” your heart cracks at the pain and guilt laced in his tone “you want to know why I do want to forgive you?” You ponder “You do?” He asks bewildered you give yourself a small sad smile before answering “yes, because if you were really the type to hurt me physically you wouldn’t feel like breaking up would be the best option, you think about things rationally and always put how I feel or could possibly feel first. You genuinely show that you care about me and it makes me know you’re a genuinely good person and that’s why I love you that’s why I want to be with you. Things were…intense to say the least but I do want to work things out soon maybe not today maybe not tomorrow but I do want to work things out with you and move on from this with you as your girlfriend” the line goes silent for a second “okay..b-but can I ask you something?” He asks hesitantly “yeah anything..” you reply instantly. “C-can we move on from this with you as my fiancé? I really didn’t want to propose like this but I really really want to marry you and I can’t imagine us breaking up without me at least asking you s-so that y-you do know my intentions” You can hear the hesitation and love in his words the question really throws you for a loop “C-can I answer you when I’m ready to come talk? I do want to be with you but I’d like to be proposed to properly I don’t want to remember the way we got engaged like this even though the answer is and will always be yes but for right now it’s a maybe later I love you Channie I’ll see you in couple days I promise..” you reply lovingly. You can almost hear the smile on his lips as he responds “I’d wait for you forever don’t worry I’ll see you soon my love and I’ll do it right next time I promise..”
Minho:
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The smell of mildew filled your nose, the feeling of your bed is different. Your eyes are burning as they adjust to the fluorescent light, your eyes widen in shock. This isn’t your room. You look around in a panic as you throw the foreign blanket off you. You look around the room, you didn’t see a single window. The only furniture that was there was the bed you were seated on and a chair across the room facing where you were once sleeping. Where were you? You lift yourself from the bed and make your way toward the door, noticing your lack of pants and shoes you rush toward the door trying to twist and pull on the knob before slamming your fist into it repeatedly “HELLO?! HELLO?! IS ANYONE THERE?” You call as you continue to pound your fist on the door. Panic filling your body in a tidal wave you hear footsteps coming toward you “HELLO?! Who’s there?! PLEASE HELP ME!” You hear the person stop infront of the door as you try to open it again. “Hello?!” You call once more to the stranger finally realizing how much of a bad idea it was. You had no clue who was on the other side of that door. It could be the person that put you here. Were they going to hurt you? What did they want? You questioned to yourself, bile rose in your throat as you heard the slight ‘click’ from the lock and see the knob turn “W-wait!” You shout the door doesn’t move “A-are you going to hurt me?” You question pressing your ear to the door only to hear silence in return “please answer me” you plead the stranger knocks once “d-does that mean yes?” You question fear filling your tone. They knock once again “Does that mean no?” You hear two knocks in response “O-Okay…why am I here? Where am I?” You hear a heavy sigh on the other side of the door before they force it open.
Your eyes widen in shock and relief washes over you, as you’re greeted by your boyfriend. “Minho!” You exclaim tears almost streaming down your face as you rush over to him and wrap your arms around his neck burying your face in his neck “Thank god! Why did you do that why didn’t you answer me I’m so scared right now and you couldn’t just tell me what was going on? What happened why am I here how’d I get here? Where are my clothes?” You question as you pull back noticing the stoic expression on his face “I took them” he states matter of factly. “W-why?” You question slowly removing yourself from from him “so you can’t leave of course” he smiles sinisterly. Your mouth hanging open in shock “what? You did this to me so I can’t leave?” He smiles once more the light that always sat in his eyes now gone their almost soulless. “Min what’s going on? Something seems off” you question nervously as you take a step back away from him “you think it’s okay to break up with me? I think it’s quite okay that I prevent that. You told me to not come back to see you anymore. I can’t just let that happen, it’s okay you just have to stay here; I’ll take care of you baby, don’t worry.” He says taking a small step toward you as he placed a pout on his lips “can’t you hug me again? I wasn’t ready so I really didn’t get to hold you like I wanted” his hand caresses your cheek “what do you mean I just have to stay here? What about my apartment? My job? My friends and family?” You question. Minho smiles sickeningly “That’s the best part baby everyone already thinks you’re either dead or missing at the very least. It’s okay I made everything look very believable and it won’t be linked to me or anything I am really sorry that I did have to collect your blood a little, I know you’re scared of needles that’s why I put those pills in your drink so you would sleep through it cause I know you’d be scared but, because I needed everyone to think you’d died in the ordeal but you can’t even feel it can you? I really did a great job right baby? Now we can be together and nothing is wrong anymore everything is fine. I mean it will suck to have to act really sad around my members knowing you’re alive but I have to so they don’t think something is wrong didn’t I do good baby? I’ll always do great things for you and now you can be free from those burdens, I’ll take care of you. You can live here it’s a house I know about that’s underground you can walk around it as you like. I’m sorry I locked you in here but you were sleeping and I didn’t want you to possibly sleep walk or anything because that was one of the side effects—you’re fucking crazy” you cut him off in shock at his admissions. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You growl. Fear grows in your stomach as his façade drops the smile quickly gone from his lips turning into a straight line.
“Fine then I guess you can’t go around as you like. And if you try to run I’ll cut your Achilles tendon look I don’t want to have to do it this way but you’re not giving me a choice so go lay on your bed and think about what you said to me and fucking fix it when I come back with food for you. I love you so I don’t want to have to leave you in here for too long, but I am an Idol you know? things like random world tours can come up and be there for months on end so who would take care of you if I decide to leave you here while I go? Either figure out if you want to be truly like the old you and die in a bloody gory death. If you be good and listen to me like you used to then I’ll be just as good to you. I don’t want to hurt you nor does the idea appeal me honestly it makes me nauseous but I’ll do what I have to. Be good lay down and just let me love you the way only I can. There’s no one else for you anyway it’s us for the rest of our lives babe and if you have a problem with that, well I’ll take Stockholm Syndrome even if it’s your own brain tricking you into loving me again just so you can dissociate from this. I’ll take it but if you act like this again we will have an issue.” He threatens tilting his head to the side taking a step toward you “Do you want there to be an issue?” You shake your head in response “O-of course not, Min I-I was just surprised by what you said. I’m just mad you had to use a needle on me but I really appreciate all the effort you went through, y-you did well I promise. Im not mad at you im sorry for trying to break up with you I won’t ever do it again but Min I don’t want to stay here let me go with you.” You force out, you felt like throwing up at the softness of your tone. “I’m sorry baby you have to stay here but if you’re really not mad come here give me a kiss let me hold you.” You pout at his words “p-please min I don’t want to be left here don’t leave me here please I’ll be good ill listen to your rules can’t I just be with you all the time? C-can’t I just live with you? I’m scared please Min” you plead, you felt disgusted with yourself begging him but you could tell he’s unstable and you didn’t know what he was truly capable of but you knew this was not going to end well if you didn’t listen to him. Bringing yourself closer to him you place your lips on his feeling his arms wrap around you and you could almost pretend like things were how they used to be.
Changbin:
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Waking up in a panic you look around the room, almost worrying when you didn’t find Changbin sleeping beside you. The events from the night previous replay in your mind as you lift yourself from the bed. A sharp sting spreads throughout your back. You groan in pain, the door shooting open at the sound. “Y/N, are you okay?” Changbin rushes into the room in a frenzy. You stare at him bewildered, “yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” You question almost sarcastically. You finally notice his disheveled state, the ghost of the trails of tears that streamed down his face. The scabs and bruises on his knuckles, you’re eyes widen in shock seeing his hands. Almost like a reflex you rush out of bed and grab his hand “What happened?!” You question worriedly taking his hand in yours .“I’m an asshole….” He states with a pout on his lips. “What? What happened to your hand Binnie? Are you okay?” He removes his hand from your grasp. “I’m a disgusting person…I was mad that I-sigh- I was mad that I hurt you s-so I punched the wall” you’re eyes widen “YOU PUNCHED THE WALL?!” You exclaim. “I fixed it after I made a hole in it. I have to paint it but it’s fixed” he murmurs. “DO YOU REALLY THINK I CARE ABOUT THAT FUCKING WALL? ILL DEMOLISH IT IF I WANTED TO WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” You growl at him anger growing in your gut at the idea of him hurting himself. “I deserved it.” He states matter of factly. “Honestly I deserve worse. I’m sorry, but when you were sleeping I checked on your back and put some ointment on it but it’s a really big bruise. S-seeing it….I wanted to die. I hate myself for doing that to you. I got really mad at myself and it just happened. I’m so sorry, you don’t understand how much I said it when you were sleeping but I need you to know I’m really sorry and that it won’t happen again because-sigh-Y/N I think we should break up.” He sobs. You stare at him. “What? You want to break up? W-why? I won’t be clingy or harass you anymore I love you I don’t want to break up” you cry.
It was his turn to be shocked “Y/N I hurt you. I gave you a huge bruise on your back. I put my hands on you which is something I never thought I’d do. I can’t be with you knowing I did that and honestly I’m disappointed you would just let it go. Don’t make excuses for me, don’t try to justify it because there is no justification. I can’t redeem myself from this—yes you can—No I can’t you may be able to forgive me but I won’t be able to forgive myself. Look at your back Y/N! Actually fucking look at it I look like a domestic abuser. It makes me fucking sick!” He snaps. Your heart feels like it’s being ripped right from your chest and dangled infront of you. “Bin I love you I don’t want to break up we can figure things out. We can fix this. My back will heal” you go to grab his hand again “but the trauma from it won’t. Not right away.” He states sadly as he takes a step back. You let out a whimper “please we can work through this I love you. I know you’re going to be disappointed that I want to forgive you. But look at you right now I know you wouldn’t do it again you look like you hate yourself right now. You are beating yourself up already why would I pour salt on that wound I’m sorry but you’re not breaking up with me I’m the one that got hurt I’m the one with the bruise on my back so I’m the one that gets to make this decision and we’re not breaking up.” You see the disappointment on his face “Y/N.—no we’re not breaking up if that’s what you want to say then I don’t want to hear it” you argue placing your hands on your ears. A pout etched onto your lips as you stare at him with tear filled eyes. You shake your head at him. A small sad smile spreads across his lips. “Okay. You win we won’t break up. Im happy you’re quite stubborn and strong willed when it comes to people you love. But I am disappointed you would forgive someone that hurt you physically…” His tone is soft and caring. You feel the anxiety of a break up dwindling as you wrap your arms around Changbins neck placing soft kisses against his cheek. “I love you, you’ll forgive yourself in time with me by your side okay?”
Hyunjin:
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“It’s just a sprain. Rest it for 48 hours and take your anti-inflammatory. And keep the splint on for a week or two as it is only a Grade 1 sprain. Come back if the pain gets any worse or if it seems like the swelling isn’t going down.” The doctor informed as he handed you your discharge paperwork. You nod along before making your way out of the hospital. You’re not excited about going home, the drive here was excruciatingly painful but at least your wrist is splinted. You couldn’t believe how Hyunjin reacted. How could he hurt you like that? The thought of the events earlier in the afternoon made you fee nauseous, how could the guy you loved for the past year choose his crazy ‘best friend’ over you? You had allowed Yerim’s antics to go on for too long based on her friendship with Hyunjin. Pulling into your driveway you’re quite pissed to see Hyunjins car still there. Meaning they were both still here. Your blood boiled as you forced yourself out of your car locking it behind you as you make your way to the door. Before you could enter your code into the pad, the door is forced open. You’re greeted with the sight of a disheveled Hyunjin. Tears streaming down his face, his sobs growing worse and worse with the glare you had directed at him. You roll your eyes as you shove past him, seeing his suitcase that was once under your bed now in the living room right beside the couch a complete lack of Yerims presence lingered. “W-wait! Please…” his whimpers between his sniffles as he wipes his face on his sleeves. “Wait for what Hyunjin? You weren’t supposed to be here when I got back remember? It seems your friend knows how to listen properly but you can’t.” You growl your mouth pulled into a harsh line, as you clenched your jaw. “I-I know but how could I just leave? I tried okay? I tried to listen to you I packed my stuff even though I didn’t want to I just—I couldn’t leave knowing you’re hurt. I couldn’t leave knowing that I may never get to see you again and I know it’s selfish but I have to try to fix this. I didn’t know what Yerim said but if it’s anything like what she tried to do then I’m sorry I never realized. I’m sorry I never knew the things Yerim did to you…b-but I do now! I swear I know the truth now and I’m sorry I should have never pushed you I should have listened to what happened.. a-and I would have probably done worse to Yerim if she said the things to me that she said to you.” He cries as he makes his way over to you stopping right infront of you he tries to caress your cheek. You flinch at his action, and a pout forms on his lips as he hesitantly places his hand back at his side “how’d you find out?” You question your eyes finally meeting his “cause there’s a reason I never told you”
His eyebrows scrunch together “does it matter how I found out? And why? Why would never tell me? How long has she been harassing you with that bullshit because that’s what it is. It’s bullshit! I never once slept with her. I never once told her I loved her, she was my best friend and I saw her like a sister and when she tried to throw herself on me when you had left I just lost my shit and realized what was going on.” He explained with tears streaming down his face. A heavy sigh is released from his lips and his current state is enough to send your heart into the morgue. “Jinnie—She was fucking pissed that I supposedly was choosing you over her but she doesn’t realize how many times you probably feel like I chose her over you. You should have told me but that doesn’t excuse what I did to you and I’m so fucking sorry Y/N. I really am, a-and if you let me I’ll make it up to you. Yerim is gone she’s out of my life she means nothing to me if she could try to ruin something that she knows I’ve dedicated myself to. She knew I wanted to marry you. She came with me to pick the ring for when I proposed but in the end even her attempts didn’t ruin anything. You knew she was bullshitting. In the end, I ruined everything but I will fix it. I’ll make it up to you I want to be with you I love you and I’m so fucking sorry” He cut you off dropping to his knees and holding your good hand in both of his “if you forgive me for this it will never happen again. I’m so sorry that I pushed you. I’m so sorry I let my anger get the better of me because you are right I heard her tell you those things and I heard you defend me and I don’t know I couldn’t think and I got mad. But if it makes you feel any better I pushed her too probably a lot worse than I pushed you and I told her I want nothing to do with her anymore I think she got the message cause she slapped the shit out of me and left” you’re eyes widen at his confession your hand instinctively lifting his face inspecting his cheek seeing the fading red mark. “I’ll fucking kill her she did what?!” You growl “she hit you?” You rush past him grabbing your keys only to be halted by Hyunjin grabbing your hand “it’s fine I deserved it for what I did to you” he comforts, your eyebrows raise “yeah and if anyone deserves to hit you it’d be me not her and I didn’t nor would I want to hit you let alone allow some slut to do the same thing to MY boyfriend. Don’t try to stop me cause I’m going to fuck her up Hyunjin” you notice the way his face lit up “Am I?” You shake your head at him in confusion “are you what?” He bites his lip as he stared at the ground “Am I still your boyfriend? What I did was really really bad…and I don’t feel like I deserve to call myself that anymore since you told me to leave” you look at him feeling a little guilty, whilst you did indeed tell him to pack his shit and leave you are kind of relieved he didn’t listen. While you didn’t enjoy the fact that he pushed you, his loyalty and the love he has for the people around him is what drew you to him in the first place. If Yerim wasn’t such a bitch and didn’t antagonize the issue then this wouldn’t have happened and yes, while he shouldn’t have pushed you he thought he was protecting his childhood friend.
“I’d like to think you still are…I-if you still want to be—more than anything I want to be your boyfriend more than I want to be an idol at this very moment” he cuts you off looking at you with hope. You bite your bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear a sigh of relief release from his throat as he holds you against him as if you’d disappear when he let go. “Thank god….I love you so much I’m so sorry you won’t regret this I promise” he cries as he buries his face in your neck. You smile slightly pulling your head back to look at your sad puppy of a boyfriend pressing your lips against his. He kisses you passionately before you pull away “But if I ever see Yerim it’s on sight. She doesn’t have the right to put her hands on you just for rejecting her. She’s going to get her ass whooped and you won’t be able to stop me…”
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katiexpunk · 6 months
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Diner Girl | Pairing Joel Miller X Fem!Reader
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Summary:  You frequent your local dinner pretty often, not just because you love their pancakes with extra syrup, but because your best friend Sydney is a waitress there. You've heard her talk about her hot boss, Joel, every now and then but you've never had the pleasure of meeting him; that was until one morning, after getting unexpectedly laid off, you decided to drown your feels in syrup and love from your bestie. Joel offers you a job, and he shows you the ropes in more ways than one. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~7.3K Warnings: Pining, flirting, hard core tension, age gap (unspecified, reader is 30), 2000s style (needs a TW lol), 2000s texting, Joel is a little rough/bossy, Joel is actually readers boss, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), no creampie (a katiexpunk first, weird, I know), rough blow job, oral (m and female receiving) pet names, cum swallowing, praise kink, inappropriate use of syrup, one tit slap, Joel rips readers uniform off of her, readers former boss is an asshole, reader gets fired from her job, eating/references to food, did I already say flirting. Joel and reader fuck on a table in the diner. References to a health scares (for readers coworker). A bit of a dom/sub dynamic. Fluff. Porn with plot. Joel calls reader slut twice. Hilary Duff/A Cinderella Story gets mentioned, as does Jennifer Coolidge yelling for more salmon. Authors Note: The fact that I'm posting this doesn't feel real. This idea has been in my brain for so long, and I am happy and relieved to have it out in the world. Special thank you to @endlessthxxghts for holding my balls, brainstorming with me, and beta'ing this. And another thank you to @sydneyinacoma, my inspiration for readers bestie -- thank you for being my slutty, smutty, sister and for saving my ass with the first blowjob scene; I owe you one. ILY both. And to @hier--soir, Jessie, your beautiful way of storytelling inspires me and I often find myself HWJWTS (How Would Jessie Write This Smut). Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications
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November 2004 
The blaring sound of your alarm disrupts your slumber, and you jolt awake with a sense of urgency. Shit. You’re gonna be late. Again. 
You stumble through your routine. You splash cold water on your face in an attempt to remove the pillow marks left behind on your cheek and smear on a mixture of lotion and face oil the saleswoman swears will make you look like you’re in your 20s again. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that that was only a year ago. You can see why she would have thought you were older as you look at your reflection in the mirror and the dim light from your tiny 1950s bathroom illuminates the bags under your eyes. 
God, you’re tired. Truthfully, you’ve been tired for months now; no amount of caffeine can seem to make up for your lack of sleep due to the demands of finishing up your Master’s and your boss who keeps you late at work what seems like every night now. 
You hastily get dressed and attempt to gather your thoughts. As you step outside into the cool November morning air, you bristle at the wind cooling the still-damp hairs that frame your face. You unlock the door to your beater and slip the keys into the engine. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach when a soft click, click, click, click noise reverberates through the air; the stubborn engine refusing to turn over. 
Shit. Not again. No!
Frustration mounts with each futile attempt to bring the engine to life. You slam your palms against the cool leather of your steering wheel, a long sigh escapes your lungs and your forehead meets the top of the wheel in defeat. 
You reach into your purse for your phone and quickly compose a message to your boss, explaining the situation. "Car won't start. Trying to figure it out. Going to be late. Sorry." With a sigh, you hit send, hoping for a sympathetic response.
The minutes crawl by as you anxiously await a reply. The familiar chime of your phone signals a message, and you eagerly check it. However, the words that flash across the screen only deepen your frustration: "This is unacceptable. You’ve already been warned twice. Don’t bother coming in, and consider this your termination."
The shock of the message hits you like a ton of bricks. 
Sure, you had been late a few times in the past year, but you figured your staying late almost every night would make up for it. Maybe if he paid a little more you could afford to fix your piece of shit car and you wouldn’t be late in the first place. 
Your eyes sting with disbelief, and your hands tremble as you clutch the phone. Anger and desperation dance the waltz in your mind as you fight to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.
You sit in your silent car, the quiet sounds of morning make you feel frozen in time, unsure of what to do or where to go from here.
You look back down at your phone again and type out a quick message to your best friend Sydney.
“U working this am?” before you can even put the phone down, it’s chirping to life with her response. 
“Hi babes! I am. R u?” her response reads. 
You don’t want to give her the full details over text – too much to type out – and instead, you settle on a short response. 
“No. Long story. Coming in 2 c u.”  
“Kk! C u soon <3” 
Your day was quite possibly off to the shittiest start ever, but you know there are three remedies to that situation. 
Your bestie, pancakes, and syrup. 
Lots and lots of fucking syrup. 
++++
The early morning sunlight spills through the diner's large windows, casting a warm glow on the worn checkered tiles. The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee envelops the air, creating a comforting ambiance that feels like a hug. The clinking of cutlery against plates and the low hum of conversations provide a soothing soundtrack to the chaos of your morning. 
Your usual booth is taken, so you settle for a seat at the bar. The stool is a little wobbly, but you have a nice view of the bustling kitchen and the seats next to you are empty. 
You watch Sydney pour a coffee refill for the older couple at the end of the bar before heading over to you. As she approaches, her infectious smile illuminates the space. Her apron, adorned with a patchwork of food stains and coffee spills, hints at the countless meals she’s already served this morning. 
"Morning, sunshine! You’re here early, you miss me?” she greets, grabbing a mug from the counter behind her before placing it in front of you and pouring you a steaming cup of coffee. 
You let out a little chuckle at her remark, knowing you just saw her last night.
You grab the mug in front of you with both hands, wishing you could shrink yourself and jump into the hot liquid like a hot tub; your bones cold from your long walk to the diner. Stupid car.
"No really, what’s up? Everything okay?” she asks, a hint of concern behind her words. 
“Not really. My car wouldn’t start this morning again, and John fired me after I told him I was gonna be late,” you respond, feeling the warmth of your frustration beginning to build in your chest once more. 
“What an asshole,” Sydney responds, “I’m sorry that happened, babe. He’s a real piece of work, you’re better off without him,” she continues. 
“I guess so. But I need a job, Syd. I don’t know what I’m gonna do now,” you respond, defeated. Your cheeks begin to heat and you think you might actually cry this time. You move the menu out in front of you on the counter to the side, and Sydney picks it up and removes the pen from behind her ear. 
“I could talk to Joel,” she offers, scribbling your order down on her notepad. You don’t have to tell her, she already knows what this situation calls for – pancakes with a lot of fucking syrup. 
“Joel?” you ask, leaning over the counter and looking both ways before you whisper to her, “as in the hot boss you won’t shut up about, Joel?” 
She lets out a little chuckle and you see a little twinkle of bashfulness in her eyes. 
“Yes, my ridiculously hot, mostly unreadable, but hot, boss Joel,” she replies. “Martha quit last week, something about wanting to spend more time with her grandkids, so we’re down a waitress.” 
You look at her face, pondering her offer as if you really have another option at the moment. 
“He’s here this morning, he’s in the back doing paperwork – I can go grab him and have him talk to you if ya want,” she says, nodding to the woman who just sat down at the bar, giving her a soft be right there hun. 
“Plus, it’ll be so fun to work together!” she says, her voice more energetic this time, preparing to go back into customer service mode. 
“I – yeah, alright, yes, I’ll talk to him,” you agree. 
She does a little jump and says “YAY!” and then gives you a big smile before pouncing off to greet her next customer. Where does she find the energy? 
As you wait for your emotional pancakes to arrive, you cradle your mug, the warmth seeping into your chilled skin, while you gaze through the window into the kitchen. Amidst the orchestrated dance of chefs and waitstaff, there stands a figure that looks like he doesn’t belong in the greasy kitchen of a diner – a towering presence, broad and resolute. His flannel shirt clings to the sculpted contours of his muscles and the determined furrow of his brow accentuates the intensity he’s directing to the clipboard in his hand. 
That’s him. That’s gotta be the ridiculously hot boss. That’s gotta be Joel, right? You feel a little tickle in your belly at the thought. 
You try not to stare too much, not wanting to be obvious, but like passing a car wreck on the freeway, you can’t seem to look away. You smile at the way he bites the cap of the pen in his mouth, only dropping it on occasion to make little notes or checkmarks. As you look at him doing his work, his eyes flutter up and meet yours. And in that brief moment, you feel a connection. The corners of his lips curl into a friendly smile as he stares back at you briefly, before once again dropping his gaze to the papers in front of him. Sydney did say he was unreadable; now you see why. 
Before you can process further, Sydney returns with your stack of pancakes and places them in front of you. “Thanks, can I have some syr–,” but before you can continue, she’s placing the container of the sweet liquid in front of you with a wink.
As you dive into your comfort food, savoring each bite, the door to the kitchen swings open, and Joel emerges. Tall and confident, he approaches your seat, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Of course, he would come to talk to you now, right as you have a giant bite of pancake shoved into your mouth like an animal. The cherry on top of your already shit day.
"Sydney's been raving about you," he admits, a friendly smirk on his face. "Say’s you’re lookin’ for some work,” his voice is low and even, and his eyes briefly scan over the patrons before coming back to land on your face. For as hot as Sydney has been describing him as over the past few months, she forgot to mention how fucking sexy he sounds. 
You stare back at him, gulping down the remaining pancake in your mouth. 
Joel's eyes are trained on your face. What he really wanted to say was Sydney’s been raving about you, but she didn’t tell me how pretty you are. That was all the more apparent to him now that he sees you up close. 
“We’re down a waitress, and we could use someone with your taste in breakfast and impeccable timing, if you’re interested?” he says, watching you fidget with the napkin in your lap. 
“I – yes, yes I am very interested. I’ve never been a waitress, but I have great attention to detail and I’m sure I could pick it up quickly with the right guidance,” you say, straightening your posture, attempting to look more composed than he has you feeling right now. 
“Well great, we’ll have you trained up in no time,” he says, his gaze lingers on your features for a beat longer than expected before he swivels on his heels, heading back to the kitchen. However, after a few steps, he abruptly pauses, pivoting back around with a thoughtful expression, as if there’s more he wants to share.  
“Oops, my bad, sweetheart. Almost forgot my manners. I’m Joel, by the way. This is my diner,” he says, gesturing with one hand as if to show the space to you like you were seeing it for the first time, before offering his large hand toward you. You meet it with your own, giving him a firm shake while sharing your name. 
"Can you start tomorrow?" he asks, and you respond with a satisfied "mhmm," sealing the deal with a wink from Joel. "Great – be here around seven in the morning then, and we’ll get cha all trained up" he adds with a grin, one that teeters the line between professional and flirtatious. 
And just like that, in the midst of your syrup-drenched, emotionally charged morning you let out your first real smile of the day. 
So there were four remedies to your situation. 
Your bestie, pancakes, syrup, and Joel. 
You finish your remaining pancake, letting your mind wander off, secretly hoping Joel will be showing you the ropes in more ways than one.  
++++
The next morning, you get to the diner just as the sun is starting to rise, and you can't help but draw a parallel to Hilary Duff in A Cinderella Story, except now you’re the Diner Girl. 
While you may not be gliding around on gaudy rollerskates, and Jennifer Coolidge isn't screaming at you “MORE SALMON! We need more Salmon!” there's an undeniable charm to the whole scenario that makes you chuckle. The uniform Sydney handed you on your way out may not be the stuff of fairytale gowns, but the fabric that clings to your skin is a tangible reminder that you're stepping into a different narrative today, a narrative where you’re employed and your boss isn’t a total jerk. 
As you step into the diner, the familiar calms your nerves a bit. Joel, seemingly in tune with your arrival, glances up from behind the counter and shoots you a playful wink. Does he wink at all his employees? 
"Morning, sunshine! Ready for your grand debut?" he teases, flashing a bright smile coupled with an adorable set of dimples. You manage a shy smile in response, feeling nervous once again, but it has nothing to do with learning your new job and all to do with the beautiful man in front of you that you’ll be close to the entire day. 
Joel wastes no time guiding you through the diner's rhythm. With each task, he effortlessly blends instructions with charming banter, making the learning process feel less like work and more like a shared secret between the two of you.
"Here's where the magic happens," he says, gesturing to the row of gleaming coffee machines. "And trust me, making a perfect cup is an art; takes a lot of love."
“Aren’t these like super-fast automatic coffee brewers? You just load the beans and water and hit start?” 
"Alright, smartass," he retorts, a playful glint in his eyes, "Yeah, they are, but you gotta press that button with love, baby. That's what makes it good." 
Your laughter harmonizes with his, and you catch the infectious mirth in his expression – one hand on his hip, the other casually resting on the counter. Your eyes trace the veins on his forearms, distinctly visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves, and you can't help but admire the effortless confidence he exudes. 
“Do it with love. I understand,” you respond. 
“Good girl,” he responds. “Alright, next up – silverware rollin’, ya ready?” he asks.
"As ready as I'll ever be," you reply, a playful smile dancing on your lips, as you follow him to the back of the kitchen to grab a tray of freshly washed flatware. Returning to the dining room, he leads you to an empty booth tucked away from the prying eyes of coworkers, giving you the first taste of true solitude with him all morning.
"Now, watch and learn," he says, demonstrating a silverware roll that rivals any seasoned server. "The key is in the wrist action. It's all about finesse."
You mimic his movements, chuckling when your first attempt doesn't quite match his polished technique. He leans in a little closer, his warmth and encouragement almost palpable.
"See, you've got the basics down. But let me show you a little trick," he says, guiding your hand with his own. The close proximity sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you can't help but revel in the extra attention to detail in his guidance. As he imparts his expertise, the thought of him taking charge and instructing you in other ways goes straight to your core. 
“You’re a natural,” Joel says, responding to your growing stack of rolled silverware. 
"You like taking orders?" he inquires, his gaze intense as he places the second-to-last rolled set in the pile you both created, and you complete your own. The implication behind his words hits you, and your eyes widen with surprise.
"Do I what?" you ask, a hint of uncertainty in your voice, unsure if your mind has ventured too far into the realm of innuendo to fully grasp his meaning.
"Taking orders – you seem like you'd be good at it," he says, pausing deliberately, well aware that he's causing a stir within you.
"You know, from customers?" he adds with a smirk, putting you out of your misery. 
“Oh. Oh – uh, well, I’m not sure, I’ve never tried it,” you respond. 
“First time for everything, darlin’. We can practice. I’ll be the customer, and you can take my order.” 
He flashes you a charming smile, making it hard to resist. "Alright," you agree with a shy grin, readying your notepad. You start “Good morning, Sir! Can I get you starte–” 
"Now, sweetheart, we've gotta do this right – stand up now, take my order properly," he interrupts, a playful tone in his voice. You shoot him a teasing side-eye, and he smirks, attempting to hide it by bringing his hand to his beard.
You rise and straighten your apron, and turn to face him at the table. 
“Good morning, Sir –” you begin again, “what can I get started for you?” 
"I'll have the classic bacon and eggs, toast on the side, and a steaming cup of your finest brew. Oh, and a side of your million-dollar smile, please."
You laugh at the last part, realizing this is exactly the kind of practice you need. "Got it, one bacon and eggs, toast, coffee, and a million-dollar smile," you repeat, jotting it down.
Joel nods approvingly. "You're a quick learner. Now, let's spice it up a bit. What if I want my eggs sunny-side-up, the toast lightly buttered, and the coffee extra strong?"
You take a moment to absorb the details, determined not to miss anything. "Sunny-side-up eggs, lightly buttered toast, and extra strong coffee," you recite confidently.
Joel grins. "Not bad, darlin’ – you’re a good listener.” 
“Maybe you’re just a good teacher,” you playfully retort. 
You don’t see it, but Joel palms himself beneath the denim of his jeans, attempting to adjust from the growing lack of space in them. 
As the morning rolls into the afternoon, you finish out the rest of your shift at the diner and make the walk back home.
As you lay in bed, you try to rationalize all of your flirting with Joel. 
He’s just nice. A Southern gentleman. He’s probably like this with all of his employees.
Unbeknownst to you, Joel lies in his own bed, also attempting to rationalize all of his flirting with you. He knows it’s wrong, but that doesn’t stop him from taking his heavy cock in hand to the thought of you that night. 
++++
After nearly a month of seamlessly navigating the diner routine, you've become a fixture in the cozy ambiance. The playful banter between you and Joel has escalated to shameless flirting – a subtle touch from a passed laminated menu, an intentionally clumsy moment with the cash register as an excuse to get a little closer, and the unmistakable sensation of his gaze lingering on you as you lean over to wipe down the booths. 
You even find yourself yelling out “Corner!” less than you should, hoping it might lead you to accidentally bump into him. 
It's not exactly backbreaking labor, though it can take a toll on you physically. But you find yourself enjoying it—the thrill of pushing through a lengthy shift, the rush that accompanies swift movements and juggling various tasks during the bustling hours, the familiar faces of regulars who now greet you by name, and the bonus of spending extra time with Sydney. 
For now, it's fulfilling enough. However, the more moments you share with Joel, the more it dawns on you that, at least when it comes to him, "enough" might never quite be sufficient.
++++
You normally work M-F, during the morning shift, and you’re grateful for the extra time on the weekends. You’re starting to feel like you might not actually need that facial oil now that you’re getting adequate rest. Take that, Mary Kay. 
One Saturday night, as you’re sitting on your couch watching Kill Bill, your phone buzzes with an unfamiliar number, and curiosity pulls you in. Joel’s husky voice on the line tells you who it is, but he introduces himself anyway.
“Hey, darlin’ – it’s Joel. Listen, uh, I know it’s your day off but I was wondering if you might be able to come in to work tonight?” he asks. 
Without pausing to let you respond, he lays it on thick, making a persuasive attempt to nudge you into saying yes, "The other servers are all tied up, and Suzanne had to call out, something about Mike not feeling right tonight, tight chest and all, so I told her to make sure he gets checked out."
"Oh no, that's awful. Yes, yes, of course, Joel. I'll be there in 15," you reply, hearing a sigh of relief on the other end.
"See you soon," he says.
"Oh? You're coming in, too?" you ask, trying not to sound overly excited.
"Well, someone's gotta make the food, right?" A little chuckle carries through the phone.
You remember it now; he had shared with you during that first day that working in the kitchen at night was one of the reasons he decided to take over owning the diner, his decision in part was fueled by his love of cooking. “Helps me remember why I started doing this in the first place," he had said. You were listening, but you were also distracted by him fidgeting with his coffee cup, watching him make small circles around the rim of it. 
++++
As the night descends, the diner transforms. The hustle of the day gives way to an intimate, dimly lit ambiance. Joel, donned in his chef's coat, greets you with a sly grin, "Well, look who's gracing the night shift. It's just you and me tonight, darlin'."
"Think we can handle it?" you respond, not really talking about the dinner rush, and he knows it. 
The air crackles with sexual tension as you and Joel maneuver through the shift. The need between you two is palpable; a desire only one thing could satiate, a hunger no amount of breakfast food could resolve.
The hours tick by, and the tile inside is illuminated by the soft glow of the neon sign outside. With the last order served, you both lean against the counter, a comfortable silence enveloping you. 
Joel breaks it with a casual remark, "Hungry?" 
"Starving,” you respond a playful edge to your voice, biting your lip. Joel’s eyes go dark as he stares at your plump flesh. 
You are hungry, but not for food.
++++
 Joel guides you to the prep station for a crash course on chicken and waffles. 
“Now, I know you’re a pancake kinda girl, but trust me darlin’ when I say these chicken and waffles will make you fall in love,” he says. Yeah, they just might. 
Joel, sleeves rolled up and a chef's jacket in hand, hands it over with a grin that hints at more than just a cooking lesson. The oversized jacket drapes over you as he gives a quick once-over. He chuckles, “you look cute like this, sweetheart,” he says before he heads to the fridge for supplies.
Returning with a bunch of ingredients, he starts showing you the ropes of making waffle batter. "You like to cook?” he asks, pouring flour into a bowl. His hands move with ease, adding baking powder, a pinch of salt, and a dash of sugar. You crack the eggs into the mix, and he throws in some vanilla extract, giving the batter a fragrant twist.
“I mean, I don’t not like to cook, but I can’t say I’m very good at it. I think I’m better with instruction,” you answer. You notice his gaze deepen, going darker almost, as he hands you a whisk. “Mix it up then. Give it your all,” he says, and you start blending. 
As you stir the batter, you sense Joel subtly adjusting his position until he's right behind you. He towers over you from behind. His arms gently encircle your body, and his backside hovers just an inch away from yours. He’s so close you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "The secret," he murmurs in a low, almost whispered tone near your ear, "is to whisk it just enough, not too much. The air bubbles make it fluffy." His voice carries a blend of guidance and desire. 
His hand moves up to sweep your hair away from your neck, causing your mixing to slow as his fingertips graze the sensitive skin. Goosebumps erupt across your entire body, and he presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear. 
“Joel,” you whimper, tilting your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck. 
“Keep mixin’ darlin,” he commands. You try, but the distraction of him on you makes you forget the simple action altogether. 
You close the gap between your bodies and take a small step back so your backside is firmly pressed against him. You let out a gasp as you feel the thick shape of him on your ass. He continues to nip at your neck, grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin there. You grab the counter in a poor attempt to steady yourself, and press into him harder, and he responds pinning your hips to the counter until his growing cock is all the more noticeable. 
“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a little hiss. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to get you alone like this – haven’t been able to get it out of my head.” A soft moan escapes you, and in the blink of an eye, his hands find your hips. Before you can react, he swiftly turns you around to face him.
“You like being told what to do, baby? I’ll tell you what to do, but I’m not gonna tell you twice,” Joel says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him. 
“So if I tell you to get on your knees, you’re gonna do it,” he says, voice low. “If I tell you to look at me, you’re gonna do it,” he continues, “and if I tell you to swallow, you’re gonna do it like the perfect little slut I know you are,” he says, dipping his face lower to you. You wonder if he can feel your pulse quickening under his hand, caught in a lusty daze fueled by hot breath and the sight of his blown pupils. 
“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning. 
“Yes - yeah, I understand,” you say, tightening your grip on his forearm, feeling the strength of his muscles still grasping you, pulling you closer to him. 
You think for a moment he might kiss you, his lips barely an inch from yours, but he doesn’t. 
“Good girl,” he praises, “since I know you’re so good at practicing, let’s do it again,” he suggests, releasing his grip on you. 
“Get on your fucking knees, baby.” 
You fall to your knees and feel the hard, cold tile against your bare calves. You position yourself beneath him and fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to give you further instructions. He reaches down and brings his pointer finger down to lift your chin up to face him. He runs his thumb over your lips. 
“So pretty like this, baby.” He thinks you're pretty. 
As he releases you, you take that as permission and reach out to undo the buckle of his belt. You fumble with the cool metal momentarily, until it’s completely unbuckled before you begin to work with the zipper on his pants. You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention. 
Your breath hitches in your throat at the size of him. He’s big. His cock is already at full attention, red and weeping. Your mouth waters at the sight of it.  You look up at him, silently asking for permission to touch him, and he nods. “All yours’” he says, and your hand comes to wrap around the base of him. The thought of all of him being yours stirs something low in your belly. 
Before you can put him in your mouth, he grabs your wrist to pull you back up to your feet. 
“Too many clothes, sweetheart. Need to see those fuckin’ tits,” he growls, tearing your uniform off, almost bare save for your bra. You’re gonna need a new one. His eyes are glued to your chest, admiring the red bra you’ve been hiding under your uniform.
“As much as I like the way this looks on, I’d like it a helluva lot better off,” he says while hastily unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the kitchen floor. Your nipples harden in the cool air, entrancing Joel. “Gorgeous fuckin’ tits,” swatting your left one, in awe of the way it bounced on impact. 
“Back on your knees,” ordering you once again. You obey without hesitation, almost automatically. 
You stroke along his length, feeling the silky warmth of his skin, the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm. You pause at the top of him and let out a little squeeze, until a small bead of precum forms at the tip. You lap it up, and Joel lets out a groan and his hands fall to grab the back of your neck. 
“Keep that mouth wide open for me, baby.” I’ll do anything you want as long as you call me baby, you reply in your head. 
You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock and your tongue is whirling around it. Joel’s grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently cants his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.
You’re barely halfway down and the back of his cock is already on your throat. You start bobbing your head up and down, and Joel mutters a little curse under his breath and bites down on his lip. 
“Such a good girl f’me, takin’ this cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him, the sound reverberating against him, “yeah, this what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?” 
Your thighs clench together, a syrupy mess of your own slick smears on your skin, and his filthy words add to the roaring ache in your cunt. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel as you notice him stiffen just a little more. How is that even possible?
You pick up your pace, pushing yourself to take more of him. He thrusts shallow but firmly, meeting your movements along his shaft. 
“Tha’s it baby, just like that…” his groans are lecherous, coupled with the profane sounds of you gagging on his cock. You’d listen to that on a loop if you could. 
He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you off him. There will be plenty of opportunities for him to fill your mouth up, but right now, he has other priorities. He does take an extra moment to watch you wipe the saliva and precum from your mouth with the back of your hand. It’s a vulgar sight and he commits it to memory. 
He helps you to your feet, and your knees on fire from the harshness of the floor. You’ll pay for it later, but for now, the soreness is a small price to pay for the exhilaration you’re experiencing with your super hot, hung boss. 
Without warning, he scoops you up in his brawny arms and carries you off to the closest booth adjacent to the kitchen. With your back flat on the table, you feel the cool laminate tabletop on your skin and it adds a stark contrast to the warmth of Joel’s chest pressed against yours moments ago. 
Your upper back is on the small table, leaving just enough room for your hips to slightly dangle off the edge, Joel’s hips between your legs. Your head ghosts the condiment bottles at the edge and he holds you in place there, teasing you. 
He pauses to admire the way you look up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your perky tits slightly falling to the side, a little sheen of sweat on your chest. He pauses to admire the way you still look flustered, but composed, knowing he’s going to fuck every ounce of that right out of you. 
Joel wants to untangle you like a knotted ball of yarn, he wants to claim ownership of every inch of your body, and he doesn’t want to wait any longer. 
He drops to his own knees this time, hooking his thumbs into your underwear to pull them down with him.. His face immediately finds your cunt, and he wastes no time before he lays a trail of soft kisses over your wet and waiting folds. He starts slow, a kiss here, a lap there, and eventually begins to pick up his pace. 
He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your hips cant up at the welcomed intrusion and your back arches, unable to stay on the table. You feel his hot breath on your cunt, and let out a small mmm at the way he presses his forearm across your lower half to lower you back down to the table, to keep you still. 
His mouth returns to your clit to work you, and he adds another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close – your slow crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a full-on sprint.
You’re so close, and he can tell by the way your body tenses under him. 
“Please,” you moan. “Please – ugh, neeeeed to come, please let me come,” you beg. 
“Just a little longer, baby. You can come when I say you can.” Joel says, voice slightly muffed against your wet skin.
He presses his lips against your clit, but doesn’t give you enough tongue to get you where you need to go. You’re already so swollen, sensitive – you know all you’ll need is a little suck and you’ll be gone. 
You don’t know how much longer you can stave off your pleasure, but you want to be good for him, to listen, to obey. 
He knows you want to come, that’s obvious, and god does he want to know what you look like when you do, to feel it, to be the reason; but still, he continues to tease and let it build. Your face twists, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes close and it all but screams I’m close, make me come, make me come.
He sucks your clit into his mouth and he grazes it with the top of his tongue and closes around you. You flutter your eyes closed. You warn him that you’re close, “Joel, fuck, please let me come. Please, please, please,” you rasp out your pleas with a symphony of moans. 
Satisfied with your pleading, he decides to take mercy on you. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, drinking in the way he has you melting, the way he has you begging. 
“You can come, baby. Go ahead, want you to soak my face,” he says, voice hoarse but still smooth like velvet.
You obey and feel the taste of your sweet release rush through you like a warm summer breeze on a hot day. Your vision goes white, and your whole body tenses with pleasure as he works you through it. 
“Fuck, so pretty with you come f’me, baby. Being such a good girl, listening to my every command,” he says and lifts his head. His dilated pupils tell you he’s high on it; on you. 
Your slick shines on his beard, illuminated by the atmospheric glow of the streetlights peering into the dark diner. He looks at you, breath slightly ragged, and brings his fingers to his lips to smear the remaining slick from his face onto them, and he pops his finger in his mouth like he’s savoring the last bite of the best meal he’s ever had.
“Taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby. Must be from all that syrup you eat.” 
And shit, it’s filthy. He looks indecent in the most delectable of ways. 
“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, grabbing his thick cock in hand and lining the head of it up against your wet and waiting hole, pausing there before pressing in. You let out a little whine. 
‘Shh, baby,” he coos, “‘m gonna give you what you need, don’t worry,” he says. Both of his hands come to your hips, surely leaving little bruises under his strong grip. Your slick makes it easy for him to bury himself in you to the hilt, even with the size of him. Your greedy cunt taking every inch of him like it’s your fucking job, like it was made for him. 
He pauses for a moment to give you a second to adjust; you feel so full, you swear you feel him in your lungs. 
He begins a relentless pace, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, the obscene sounds of the clapping noises, a wet and wanton song made as a result of your wetness keys you up. 
“Fuck, yes, Joel – YES,” you cry. 
“Yeah? Say thank you to me, baby. Say thank you for giving you this cock, for fucking you dumb,” he commands. 
Thank you – thrust – tha - thrust – thank you, fuck, thrust. 
He fucks into you so hard that your head hits the condiments, knocking them over. The ketchup bottle falls, the sugar packets scatter, and the syrup tips over. A slight ooze of the viscous substance starts to pool on the table and get into your hair, but you don’t care, this feels too good to care. 
Just as you’re about to come, Joel notices the pool of auburn liquid running over the table and onto the red booth below. 
“Tsk, tsk, baby – makin’ a mess – creaming on my cock, and spilling syrup on the floor,” he says, continuing his pace. You feel your walls clench around him. Just as quickly as he entered, he retreats, and you whine at the loss. “Get up,” he says. 
You do as he says and rise onto your legs. They’re shakey like Jell-O. You watch as he reaches over the table and grabs the sticky glass bottle from the table. 
“On your knees again,” he asks of you for the third time tonight. You pause, your body sore and your knees aching. “You hear me, baby? I said get on your knees.” 
You do as he says, and kneel before him, once again worshiping at the altar of the man above you. 
You look up at him with bated breath and watch him use his free hand to rip off his shirt and throw it onto the booth beside him. 
“Come closer,” he says, “and open,” you kneel before him with your mouth open, your inviting tongue waiting to be used. He uses his hand to grab the base of his heavy cock, and he taps it on your widespread tongue a few times before holding the syrup bottle high in the air, centering it above his cock and your open mouth. 
You watch with wide eyes as he tips the bottle over just a smidge, and a long, thin, sticky stream of syrup begins to rain down onto his hardness, falling off the sides of it, down to the floor, and all over your chin. 
“Clean me up, baby,” he says, and your lips close around him. You begin to suck and lick every inch of him, savoring the golden liquid that creates a tantalizing mix of sweetness from the sugar and salt from his pre-cum. You hum as you work him, savoring every bit, and eventually, the skin on his cock is syrup free and you take him at a more consistent pace. You hear Joel groan, and it encourages you to take him deeper, harder, faster. 
You look up at him through wet lashes, tears forming in the corners of them, as he holds your now sticky hair into a makeshift ponytail and uses your mouth. 
“Such a good hole for me,” he says, “so fucking good, baby, you’re so perfect.” 
You let him chase his high, and open wider when you see his jaw tighten and his tight core tense, the grip on your hair pulling tighter. 
“You’re gonna swallow,” he says. “All of it,” he commands, and his jaw goes slack and he releases a rush of warm cum down your throat. It tastes musky, but a little drop of syrup you missed during your cleaning job makes it sweeter. 
“Fuck, darlin’,” he says, panting heavily, holding you on his cock as he throbs out the final pumps of his release. 
He lets go of your hair and you pop off of him and use your fingers to clean off the rest of the syrup from your chin and smile up at him. God, you must look like a wreck. 
He extends out his large palm in a gesture to help you off the floor. As you rise to stand, his fingers find the underside of your jaw and he tilts you up to look at him. 
He looks at you, the darkness behind his eyes has been replaced with someone else; pride. 
“You really are a good listener, baby.” He says.  He gazes down at you, his thumb delicately tracing the contour of your jaw. This moment feels significant.
Leaning in, he tenderly places his lips on yours. The sensation takes your breath away, and as he intensifies the kiss, you willingly welcome the exploration of his tongue, relishing the warmth and savoring his taste. Tonight, you've experienced every other aspect of him, but in this moment time seems to stretch as your lips remain locked.
As he breaks the kiss, a contented smile graces your face, and you feel as if you could float away.
“Now really, let’s eat some food,” he says, letting a low chuckle escape from his lips, “I still owe you some chicken and waffles.” 
“And you owe me a new uniform,” you say, grabbing his hand to follow him to the kitchen, totally naked. 
Joel actually teaches you how to make the meal this time. He offers you another chef's coat to cover your body, but he doesn’t let you keep it on for long. As your breakfast-dinner cooks, he hoists you up on the counter and eats you again. He makes you orgasm more times in one night than you think you ever have with any of your previous partners. 
You were right in your initial thinking. Enough will never be enough when it comes to Joel.
You’ll always want more.
More of this, and more of him. 
And the one thing that’s the most certain is that you’ll most definitely want more fucking syrup. 
Good thing you work at a diner.
END
Bonus Drabble Coming Soon: How will Sydney react when you tell her about your steamy night with Joel?
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Tagging moots and those who showed interest in the preview: @nosesitter @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81 @lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lovebandrry @dugiioh @frodo-jojo @ghostwritesthings @planet-marz1 @josephquinnswhore @cinnamon-gurlll @dragonfire @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring @darkheartgatita @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @dins-riduur-anthe
815 notes · View notes
littlemissayu · 8 months
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TWST Boys as ✨ PARENTS✨(Part 1)
TW: kids, pregnancy, reader is depicted as female, domestic, fluff
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ft. :Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw | pt.2 ; ft. Octavinelle & Scarabia | pt.3; ft.Pomefiore, Ignhihyde | pt. 4; ft.Diasomnia
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Riddle Rosehearts-
This man only has 1 kid, maybe 2 but that's kinda pushing it. I think he would be so worried about messing up his child the way his mother messed him up. He'd be strict yet dotting on his children; like he'll make sure their homework is done by a reasonable time and then praise them for doing really well on an assignment, especially if it's a subject they genuinely struggle with. If I'd say a boy dad or girl dad honestly, I think it could go either way, but I'm leaning towards boy dad.
Trey Clover-
I heavily believe he will have a big family anywhere from 4 - 7 kids. And these kids are absolutely close in age because I know the two of you are gonna get very busy, it feels like you're always pregnant with other people. Just imagine Trey with a mini him (or you) helping him crack the eggs in a bowl while they're wearing matching aprons <3. He would be a gentle parent but would put his foot down went he needed to. When it comes to girl dad or boy dad I can only think both!!
Cater Diamond-
At first he wasn't sure he wanted kids bc kids are a lot to take care of, but after the two of you being together and going through so much. He realizes deep down he did want to start a family with you. He would probably want only one or two but your first pregnancy you end up with triples; then you two said that's it until you got pregnant again with twins!!(My headcanon that Cater's special magic makes it more likely to have twins, triplets, etc come for here!!). It wasn't what the two of you anticipated but you couldn't be happier
Your pair of triplets ended up being 2 girls and a boy, then your twins were girls. He's a very fun dad always staying on top of the trends and slang. He has a hard time laying down the law with his kids sometimes, so you have to do it most of the time but when he really has to he does. *Bonus: You guys have 4 family photo shoots a year, and multiple photo albums*
Ace Trappola-
He probably has 3-5 kids, but from time to time it feels like you have 4-6 kids. He's always getting into trouble with them, playing pranks on you and others, even each other. There is no quiet in your household, it doesn't exist til everyone's asleep. Your kids are the most playful and competitive children you've ever seen, but they know to dial it back from time to time; Ace told them "When your mom says it once, she might be joking, if she says it twice she more likely serious so listen, if you make it to three....your the only name going on that tombstone". You guys are the most chaotic adorable family ever.
Deuce Spade-
He has 3 kids and not a single one of them is male, bc this man is %100 a GIRL DAD!! At first he was nervous about messing her up but after your first girl turned 3 and your second is 1, he couldn't imagine having a boy. He is the most proud girl dad you'll ever see. Is so protective of his amazing girls(that includes you btw), would fight off mosquito if it bit one his girls, no matter have stupid he looks. Spoils his little girls in any way he can, luckily you're there to make sure their not TOO spoiled.
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Leona Kingscholar-
This man has 2 children and always makes sure one never feels less than the other. He knows what it's like to be stuck in your siblings shadow so he tries to make sure that never happens to his kids. While he won't always be present since he is still part of the royal family and therefore will have certain royal duties to fulfill; he will always do his best to be there for his kids. He does sleep less then he did before since his life is busier, but he always makes sure to take a nap everyday so when he's with his wife and kids he'll be able to be in a better mode to see his beautiful family. He would have one girl and one boy.
Ruggie Bucchi-
3-8 kids. His kids are the rowdiest, sneakiest kids you've ever seen. Although most of the time they're super sweet(to you). The first time you two talked about kids you agreed on only 2, but after having your first 2 rascals. You two got some more baby fever and ended up having only a few more. You did have a good paying job so you could take care of your little pack of children. The Bucchi household never has a boring day because there is always something really exciting or crazy that is happening. Overall he has more girls than he does boys. You first daughter stays a daddy's girl <3, but dw he loves all his kids equally!
Jack Howl-
4 kids, an even amount. He isn't the most expressive Dad but his kids can tell how he feels based on body language and physical acts. While to others it may seem as if he couldn't care less about his kids, it is the complete opposite. Always making sure their ok, celebrating their accomplishments, and always encouraging them to do what they love. His kids can tell through these small acts that he loves them. Your husband loves to take early morning runs, ofc but when your kids are babies he would take them in their stroller so they can get some fresh air to get them in a good mood. He does that so that maybe if their baby is in a better mood you won't have to much stress when trying to figure out what they need; it makes both of your lives easier. At first the two of you though you'd only have boys bc of your first 3 but then low and behold, your last kid was a baby girl<3!!
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Heartsabyul Masterlist
Savanaclaw Masterlist
TWST Masterlist
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wint3r-h3art · 2 years
Text
Ride the Lightning | Thor x Reader
Summary: They say lightning never strike twice. Thor begs to differ.
Word count: 3.4K
Warnings: pure brain rotting smut with a little plot, size kink, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, couch sex, male ejaculation, creampied, shower sex. Mutual pinning if you squint. a bit shy/awkward reader (because w’re all a bit awkward talking to our crushes 🥲) 
MINORS DNI | 18+ ONLY
A/N: y’all know I’ve been wanting to read some filthy ass size kink fic. Well, if you want something bad enough, you gotta write it yourself. Here it is in its pure filth. No beta, so I’m sorry!! Feedback & reblog just mean a lot and greatly appreciated if you enjoyed this.
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*** do not copy, repost, rewrite, or translate my works !!
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You could feel him eyeing you across the room.
Another sip from your wine glass and you turn and pretend to listen to Sam and Bucky because God helped you, you can’t meet his eyes at all. You could feel the heat slowly blooming at your cheeks while your heart was practically hammering against your chest.
“Are you alright, Y/N?” Sam asked you when he noticed that you were acting awfully suspicious.
“Please, don’t mind me. Just enjoying my wine. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.” you flashed him a sheepish smile. 
Bucky tapped his shoulder and Sam turned in the direction and nodded in understanding. It was a known fact that you have had a crush on Thor for a while now, and almost everyone knows about it, well except that you didn’t know that everyone knew about it. 
“Aren’t you driving tonight? Perhaps you should slow down,” Sam said as he carefully took your glass from your hand. “Chugging that in one go won’t do you any good.”
“Please, Sam. I’m a big girl. I can just walk back to my apartment.”
“First of all, you are tiny! Second, not a chance.”
“I can drive her back,” Scott came out of nowhere and plopped himself back next to Bucky. The other man grimaced, clearly annoyed that he didn’t understand what Sam was trying to do here. 
“No,” Sam and Bucky said in unison, which Scott was taken aback by. 
“Well, geez guys. Thanks.”
“What they meant to say is that Thor should walk Y/N back to her apartment,” Bruce stepped in. 
“Why Thor and not me?” Scott was clearly offended, and it was so obvious that he was unaware of the situation as well. “What is so special about Thor?”
“What about me?” came Thor's deep baritone voice, standing there and towering practically over everyone.
“You should walk Y/N back to her apartment,” Sam said as a matter of factly.
“Agree,” Bucky concurred.
“Wait? Why him?” Scott asked, and Clint had to cover Scott's mouth with his hand before he leaned in and whispered something in his ears. Sam, Bucky, and Bruce all watched Scott’s face slowly morph into a knowing look. “Right. Ok, yeah, Thor! Be a gent and walk her home!”
“Ok,” he said suspiciously before downing the last of his drink, which barely gave him any buzz. “My lady?” He offered you a hand and you stared momentarily before you took it. All the guys were watching you with a knowing smile before you waved goodbye.
The walk was awkward to the point where you were no longer buzzing anymore. Thor was being Thor and was trying very hard to make small talk with you. Only for you to nod and smile because you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was here with you.
Once you reached the apartment, you invited him inside out of politeness. 
“It’s a bit small, but y’know, it’s enough for me.”
“I think it’s a fitting space for you,” he commented as he seated himself easily on your sofa. You watched the way his mass frame took up the space, and it made you swallow hard, imaging yourself on his lap and just–
“I saw you were staring at me at the party earlier. Care to tell me why?”
The question took you by surprise because he sounded genuinely curious. 
“Uh….” 
“You’ve been avoiding me since I got back? Did I unknowingly offend you?”
“No. Not at all. I–it’s literally nothing, Thor. I promise. Wine?” you chirped as you tried to make an escape to your wine rack, only to find yourself being pulled back by a very strong arm. You didn’t realize a man his size could move so quickly and so quietly, but here you were being spun and landed right in his chest. 
Your heartbeat was practically drummed against your ears, almost deafening you as you stared up. He was so much larger and stronger. His scent filled your nostrils. He smelled so delicious that your mouth started to salivate.
“I know that kind of look, little dove, so either tell me or I’m forcing it out of you. And you know, I’m very good at the second one.” His eyes twinkled with a promise, and you had no doubt that he was capable of it.
You chewed on your lips and you watched the way his eyes seemed to darken like a stormy sky. 
“Don’t tease me,” you said helplessly, knowing that your admission might ruin whatever little relationship you have with him. “But I like you.”
“You do?” he asked with a genuine smile. You could see a hint of red dust on his cheeks, and suddenly you understood why you have a crush on him in the first place. The man was like a golden retriever. 
You nodded. “I don’t expect anything in return, so don't look at me weirdly…”
“Why would I ever look at a beautiful woman weirdly?”
Oh God, now he has done it. You could feel your breath leaving you. You forgot how charming he could be too. “You think I’m pretty?” you asked sheepishly. Your eyes suddenly couldn’t meet him.
“I think you are beautiful. Small, delicate, but capable. Every time I look at you, I just want to scoop you up in my arms and kiss you until I’m drunk.”
“Oh. Wow. Um,” you chuckled nervously. “You do?”
He nodded as he sat down on the sofa, his large hand was still holding you. “Yes. Like right now…” he said as he pulled you in until you were straddling him. “If you don’t want this, you can hop right off, and I shall return to the party. We can pretend like nothing ever happened.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m all yours, little dove.” 
You stared at him for a long moment before you leaned forward, your mouth covering his in a deep, hard kiss. His scent flooded your senses. 
He groaned when he could feel you sitting atop the hard ridge of his erection. It was obvious that he was as ready as you are. 
“Come here.” His voice was deep and husky, making your skin prick with goosebumps despite the warmness that radiated off of his body.
“Where?” you asked. Your voice was barely a whisper as you stared deep into his eyes, getting lost in them. If there ever was such a thing, his eyes were like fire in a bottomless ocean– the sort of passion trapped underneath a glacier that had frosted over millennia before, yet burned hotter than the sun. 
“My mouth. It would please me greatly if you let me lap up all that sweet, decadence honey of yours.”
You wanted to moan out loud by the way he finished off his sentences with a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. You hastily bunched up your dress and Thor helped you remove your panties. You forced yourself up slowly before you knelt astride his head; one knee on the edge of the couch while the other on the armrest of the sofa, spreading yourself out wide, giving him a clear view of your glistening pussy.
His large, calloused hands slid up your thighs, and his breath fanned over your needy cunt, making you shudder slightly. Thor slowly squeezed your ass, causing you to whimper softly. 
And then he started to lick you in a long and deliberate lap. His hand was kneading the back of your thighs as he settled into a feast, gliding his tongue along your list before he pushed into the folds, dipping inside you in shallow penetrations.
You couldn’t help but clutched the back of the sofa as you tried very hard to hold onto whatever was left of your sanity. Your legs shook slightly, almost wavering by the weight of the profound pleasure. You found yourself rocking your hips into his mouth, relishing the way his beard grazed against your inner thighs.
He would concentrate on that one spot that made you strain and cry out before he returned to stroke across your slit back and forth. He kept on doing this until your legs began to shake. 
“Do not come,” he warned. His deep rumbling voice seemed to send a tremor right through your throbbing pussy as he gave your ass another squeeze. 
You whimpered at that. How could he demand such a thing from you when he was so good at this?!
“I want to be inside you when you come,” he said before he gave your pussy another long, tantalizing lick. His nose brushed against your clit, and it made your thighs twitch a little.
“Please hurry,” you whined before you removed yourself from his mouth. 
This earned a disapproving grunt from him.  
“So impatient,” he said before he hastily removed his pants. He was long and thick like you’ve always suspected. Dark blond hair dusted the hard plane of his stomach all the way down. His cock arched up to his stomach. The pink, fat tip of his cock was already glistening as beads of precum leaked out of the slit.  
He was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve been with, and it made your mouth salivate. You know he was going to fuck your brain out and rearrange your inside.
You swallowed hard as your palm slowly wrapped around him. Thor turned and looked at you with half-hooded eyes. 
“Look how tiny your hand is. You can barely wrap your hand around me,” he said, biting his lower lips. “How is your cunt going to fit me, huh?” he asked.
“We’ll find out,” you said as he slowly pumped his shaft up and down. Your eyes are still glued on him, watching the way he inhaled through his nose. Thor spread his muscular thighs apart, giving you more room. 
You hummed at the obvious invitation. Clearly, Thor wanted you to do as you please. He was willing to be used by you, and that just made your pussy throb even more. 
A low, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest as his palm slid down to your ass. You could feel the tip of his digits prodding at your entrance while the other was holding the base of his cock, slowly tapping the head against your cheek, urging you to open up.
You glared before your tongue darted out to lick the slit. His eyes gleamed as he grinned. A soft hiss slipped past your lips when he plunged his two fingers inside you.
“So tight for me, little dove. Are you sure you can fit me?” he asked again, but he didn’t let you answer. Instead, Thor grabbed the back of your head and shoved the fat tip right into your mouth. You could only answer with a muffled moan. “Your mouth can barely fit my cock. Come now, you can do better than this. Relax your jaw for me,” he mumbled as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. 
Thor would praise you when you moaned into his dick. The vibration pleased him greatly that he had to stop himself from thinking about fucking your mouth. He needed to hold out because he wanted to fuck that sweet cunt of yours, so dripping and so warm. He could see himself staying there and burying himself till the morning came.
“Alright, little dove. Let's see if you can in fact fit me,” he mumbled before he gently pulled your mouth off of him. His eyes glimmered at the way your drool was dripping down your chin, and the way you wet his shaft so nicely. 
You moved to straddle him again while he lined the head of his cock near your entrance. With both hands on his broad shoulders, you slowly sank down onto him, taking him inches by inches. You winced at the way he stretched you out. It felt like you were swallowing fire, only for it to feel like a never-ending mix of pleasure and pain. 
Thor sucked in his breath. His hands were clutching the armrest for dear life as you swallowed him slowly. Every part of him felt like being choked and squeezed to the limit. He tried his hardest to not plunge into you then and there, splitting you open till he filled you up with his cum.
You could feel the way his muscles strained and corded at the effort of sitting still. He knew if he moved too soon, he would risk making you come too soon. 
You bit your lips as you continued to glide slowly up and down his long shaft. He filled you too full and too much that was hard to even think. Your brain is filled with nothing but the feel of being stuffed by his cock. His heat and his hardness took your breath away every time you sank all the way down until your ass hit his thighs; the head of his cock struck deep, and the sound that slipped from your lips was nothing you ever thought you were capable of: raw and needy.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, hands stroking your thighs as his back arched, pushing his muscular chest against yours. You mewled at the way your hard nipples brushed against his hard chest. His calloused hands were still on your ass, holding you and guiding you when your movement got too clumsy.
Occasionally, he would help lift you up when your thighs gave out, sheathing you all the way down before lifting you up again with little effort. 
“Shh, it’s ok,” he cooed when your thighs gave out entirely. Your body slumped forward, legs shaking. His rough fingers stroked your spine, murmuring sweet nothing. “I’ll give it to you. Let me take care of you, little dove.”
Thor lifted you up as he pushed his hips upward, stroking you with breathless thrust. His name slipped from your lips as you buried your face in his neck. Fire and pleasure licked your inside every time he hit that one spot again, making your breath hitched in your throat. 
He lowered you again before lifting you up, fucking you upward into your greedy hole. The squelching sounds filled the room along with your panting and mewling. His chest rose and fell against your breasts, eliciting a new kind of pleasure.
“How’s that feel?” he panted as he held your hips in place. He could feel you close to falling apart in his arms as he began thrusting with determination. He was relentless, withdrawing himself all the way out before plunging balls deep inside you.
“So good, baby. So fucking good,” you sobbed. You tried very hard to hold on to his shoulders–just something to brace yourself for the slap of his hips against yours. He felt too good and you were more than ready to be ripped apart by your orgasms and Thor could feel it too.
“Come for me, sweet dove,” he spoke through his gritted teeth as he brutally thrust into you as he wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you flushed against his body. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”
You came with a loud shout. Your body spasmed as rapture ripped through you with a white-hot release. The rippling wave of your orgasms washed over you. Your pussy was practically squeezing his thick cock, milking him till he couldn’t help but moan.
Thor was still fucking you, using you so he could reach his own release too. He easily flipped you over. His large body covered yours while he drove his hips in and out of you with vigor. Each thrust sent your body forward while you laid there, too paralyzed from the afterglow of your orgasms. 
Thor hauled your legs upward, hands pulling you back to meet his thrust. He was so impossibly deep that every time he pulled back, no noise came out of you.
 His lips pulled back into a snarl. His nostrils flared, and fingers dug into your skin as his release exploded, filling you up with nothing but his sticky, white cum. His body strained above you as he crushed you to his chest. If you weren’t too cock drunk already, you could have sworn you heard a crack of thunder outside.
You didn’t know how long both of you stayed there. The soft panting and heavy breathing filled the silence as the rain began to slowly pour outside. Perspiration dampened his forehead. His golden lock stuck to his neck and he pulled back to look at you. Adoration filled his gaze as his lips moved to brush against your cheeks. 
You were still warm and feverish from one hell of orgasm he just gave you. “I’m scared if you pull out now,” you mumbled, nuzzling his neck. You could feel his dick soften inside you.
Thor chuckled. “Why so?”
“Well, you did come inside me…and like you came a lot, Thor.”
“And?”
“This couch is very expensive…if you pull out now, your cum will get everywhere. Like everywhere.”
Thor chuckled. “You are so strange, little dove. Fine, if that’s worrying you, we shall go wash up.”
You barely have time to ask him when he easily picks you up, his dick still inside you while he easily walks to your bathroom. His larger form dwarfed everything inside your apartment. 
With one arm still wrapped around you, Thor turned on the shower. You moaned at the way the hot water felt against your skin. Slowly, he set you down and the moment he pulled out, you winced at the way his cum was dripping down your inner thighs. You shuddered slightly.
“Holy shit, Thor,” you mumbled as you looked up, he only flashed you a charming smile. His large hand was on the nape of your neck before he leaned in and kissed you. He was so soft and so gentle, a duality from earlier love-making sessions. 
You could feel his cock slowly getting hard again, and your palm mindless found him once more. 
“You’re going to kill me with your appetite,” you mumbled as he stroked him. Thor rested his chin on your head. You could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his cock slowly came to life once again.
“Killing you is the last thing on my mind,” he murmured before he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his taut waist. Thor pressed your back against the shower wall as he slowly ground his hips against your aching cunt. Every part of you came alive as fire flowed in your veins. 
Once again, you found your pussy throbbing and pulsating when he just filled you up not too long ago. The hot water didn’t help either when all you wanted was to be fucked hard and rough.
You and Thor moaned in unison when he entered you swiftly, thrusting inside you with intent. He wasn’t being careful anymore as he crushed you against his large body. You were groaning with desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck. Incoherent moaning filled the bathroom as hot water splashed against his back. It wasn’t long till Thor pulled another orgasm out of you, making you slump in his arms. You felt spent and weak.
“Please, I can’t,” you pleaded with him. Thor only kissed your neck once more before he pulled himself out. “You killed me, Thor. How am I going to function now?”
“Please, this is just the beginning, little dove. I’m just getting started,” he winked and you knew you were in for a long weekend with the God of Thunder. 
Meanwhile, at the party, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce clang their beer together with a knowing smile on their faces as another lightning struck out in the far distant sky. Scott once again was the only one that was oblivious.
“They fucked didn’t they?” Clint asked as he stared out at the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was practically pouring outside. The other three men nodded before taking another swig of their beer. “Good for them,” Clint said before he took a sip of his own drink. “Good for them.”
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