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smileysuh · 5 months

Text

after the seminar

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today. He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- God, you want him so bad.

tw/cw. sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k

🍭 aus. sugar daddy au, established relationship, fiance!Wonwoo, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know not everyone is into this level of sugar daddy control, but I think there's something to be said about the trust that reader has for Wonwoo. Sometimes I just wanna shut up and let a man do all the work, and today, that man is Wonwoo

Wonwoo’s had few loves in his life. During university, he’d had a love for law, a need to do what was right. In his thirties, he’d found a new soulmate in legislative procedures related to the sustainability and efficiency of whole cities. Finance had been another long-winded lover, and now, on the cusp of forty, Wonwoo’s found the one thing in the world he loves most, you.

Holding your hand while he drives through the city, Wonwoo can’t help but keep some of his attention on you.

Dressed in a tight-fitting red dress he’d bought you for your six-month anniversary in Paris, with your hair and makeup done, you look as stunning as ever. There’s a fat rock on your wedding finger, an engagement ring signifying his loyalty to you, and Wonwoo can’t help himself but play with it a little anytime your hands are linked.

As he makes a turn onto a busy street, the sun practically blinds him, and Wonwoo immediately lets go of you to adjust his visor. You make no movement, so he pulls yours down too, enjoying the way you flash him a small smile and whisper a ‘thank you.’

“You look lost in thought,” he muses, having noted your gaze fixed on the sidewalk trees passing by outside your window. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about seminar topics,” you admit.

Over the past three days, you’ve accompanied him to multiple talks focused on accessibility, affordability, and green solutions within cities like yours. Tonight marks the last evening of the event, and the two of you are headed to a meet-up with some of Wonwoo’s closest lawyer friends.

Wonwoo loves how diligently you’ve thrown yourself into his work-focused world. Not only do you attend the seminars with him, but you truly make an effort to learn, and that’s never more obvious than when conversing with his colleagues.

Wonwoo’s best friend, Kim Mingyu, has entertained a string of sugar baby relationships, and despite inviting three or four of those women to events like the one you’ve just accompanied Wonwoo to, none of Mingyu’s girls ever took to it the way you do.

You’re one of a kind, and Wonwoo knows how lucky he is to have you.

“I’m sure Seungcheol will have a few things to say about the housing crisis talk,” Wonwoo notes. Choi Seungheol, who had started in law and made the leap to real estate. He now owns half of the new developments being built downtown, and Wonwoo knows this will spur a contentious discussion later.

“He can’t argue with the stats,” you sigh, turning to look at Wonwoo, who threads his fingers with yours again.

“He can try,” Wonwoo smiles softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You return the smile, turning your attention out the window again.

You’re not voicing anything, but Wonwoo can read you like a book. It used to be his job to pay attention to body language, and while he tries to stay humble, people have called him something of a mind reader.

“It’s been an exhausting three days,” he notes. “We don’t have to be out for long tonight, I’m sure we both need our rest.”

“Hansol flies to New York tomorrow morning,” you remind him. “I want you to have as much time with him as you need before he’s gone.”

Your relationship is always something like this, the two of you caring for each other so deeply that you constantly make small concessions. As always, though, the ball is in Wonwoo’s court. He appreciates the way you can feel to him like an intellectual equal while still being submissive in other senses, although he never abuses this power over you.

He’ll keep an eye on you tonight, and when he notices you getting tired, or your energy depleting, he’ll excuse the both of you from drinks and take you back to his place. Then, he’ll take care of you in the ways only he knows how.

You love Wonwoo. You love him for the big things, his character, his good heart- but you love him for the little things too, the way nothing slips past his line of focus. He’s always a hundred percent on and present with you, holding open every door, guiding you by the small of your back, and pulling out your chair first when you join his friends on the top floor restaurant in the most expensive hotel in the city.

“You look amazing,” Mingyu compliments you, flashing you a toothy grin before standing to greet Wonwoo with a hug. “You definitely know how to pick them,” he praises his friend.

“And look at that ring,” Seungcheol has zeroed in on the diamond on your finger, and he reaches across the table to take your hand and get a better look at it. Wonwoo’s eldest friend has always had an eye for luxury, and he studies the oval rock and silver-colored band. “I’d ask if this is sterling,” he muses, “but if I were a betting man, which I am, I’d say it’s white gold.”

Seungcheol lifts his eyes to meet yours, waiting for an affirmative, which you give with a nod. “You know your metals, Mister Choi.”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers, “It’s Seungcheol.”

“Stop flirting with Wonwoo’s girl,” Hansol tuts, pushing at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

The elder man makes a face, brushing off his expensive suit. “Not flirting,” he clarifies. “Although,” his gaze shifts to you again, “if you have any hot friends-”

“Aish,” Wonwoo has rejoined the conversation after greeting Mingyu, and he takes the seat next to you, his arm casually coming around the back of your chair to pull you closer. “What have I told you about asking her for favors?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sungcheol sighs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “She’s one in a million, aren’t ya, little miss future Jeon to be?”

“Try one in a billion,” Wonwoo corrects, hand finding your thigh now that he’s pulled you close enough. “Have you three ordered drinks yet?”

“We were waiting on you,” Mingyu says, handing Wonwoo a cocktail menu, which he settles between you both so you can also read it. “Their margaritas are pretty good.”

You quickly find a drink you’d like to try, and you wordlessly reach out a manicured nail to tap on it. Wonwoo follows your motion, giving a curt nod, then he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. He waves down the waiter a moment later, and orders you your drink, sparing you the socialization.

This is yet another one of those little things Wonwoo does for you that you find incredibly sexy, and you tuck closer to him, placing your hand over his own on your thigh.

“We should talk about the elephant in the room,” Mingyu sighs, drawing all eyes. You have no idea what he’s about to say, and then he hits the four of you with, “Cheol, you have to admit your new high rises aren’t sustainable or affordable.”

“They’re called luxury suits for a reason,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’m not in the business of affordable housing.”

Wonwoo grins next to you, looking down and squeezing your hand gently. It’s funny how amusing he finds this whole thing.

“Don’t smirk like that, Woo,” Seungcheol tuts. “As if you didn’t do a walk-through of a penthouse suite in my new highrise last week.”

This is news to you, and you turn to look at your boyfriend. You’re generally not one to question him, and luckily you don’t have to, because Kim Mingyu is just as nosey as you’d sometimes like to be. “You checked out a penthouse? I thought you loved your apartment?”

“I’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo says, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “However, I can admit that the amenities at Cheol’s new builds are quite impressive.”

“Amenities,” Seungcheol scoffs. “As if that’s what you were actually interested in.”

The two powerful men share a look, and it’s a battle of wills that makes your heart thump loudly in your chest.

What was Wonwoo interested in?

He’s never talked to you about moving, and you’ve been living with him for nearly a year. Besides, Mingyu’s right, Wonwoo adores his apartment. He’s had it forever and it’s decorated exactly the way he likes it. Your bedroom is a lovely corner location with views of the whole city, and his home office is a sanctuary you’ve loved to desecrate.

“We’ll talk about this more another time,” Wonwoo says finally, looking up as your waiter appears with a tray of drinks.

Your cocktail is set in front of Wonwoo, and he gently pushes it toward you before reaching down to give your thigh a squeeze under the table. He picks up his Old Fashioned with his free hand, and Seungcheol raises his own glass in a toast. “To friends and new engagements!”

Seungcheol nods to you before taking a sip of his scotch, and it fills your body with heat to know his friends truly respect and like you. They’re happy to have you joining as a permanent member of their social sphere.

You place your hand on top of Wonwoo’s as you bring your cocktail to your lips.

The discussion moves to details about sustainability, and the men at the table trade opinions on the seminars. Mingyu is fast in his manner of speaking, always intent to prove his point. Cheol is loud and boisterous, scoffing at opinions that don’t align with his own. Hansol is often quiet, but he makes good notes ever so often, and they make the whole table sit and think. And your Wonwoo is as calm and judicial as always, listening to his friends with a contemplative expression even while his thumb draws small circles on your thigh.

You give your own two cents a few times, and your musings are always the most well-received. None of the men at the table are about to pick a fight with you, and they’re attentive whenever you open your mouth, nodding and making one or two comments before getting heated with each other again.

The waiter comes and Seungcheol orders a few appetizers while Wonwoo opens the menu for you. When Wonwoo begins to list three of his own items, you tap your finger on the one you’d like most and he voices that as well.

God, how you love the fact that you only have to lift one little finger with Wonwoo while he does the rest. You really aren’t in a super talkative mood, especially when it comes to mundane tasks like ordering food and drinks. You save your voice to join in on the intellectual conversation taking place, and you prefer things this way.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo begin to argue over rezoning laws, and Hansol turns toward you, leaning closer. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he smiles.

“Thank you,” you grin back.

“Have you guys talked about wedding plans yet?”

Out of all the people in the world, you didn’t think Chwe Hansol would be one of the first to ask you about wedding details.

“We’re thinking destination,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Hansol laughs. “And an expensive honeymoon too I bet.”

“Of course,” you grin, playing with the stem of your cocktail glass. “Although, if I’m being honest…” you lean closer to Hansol, lowering your voice while Wonwoo and Seungcheol continue to argue, “as much as I like the lifestyle I have with Wonwoo, you know I’m happy just to be with him.”

“But the expensive trips are a bonus I bet,” Hansol grins.

“I mean… would you say no to a trip to the Maldives?”

Wonwoo’s friend shakes his head, still smiling. “Never.”

“When are you going to find someone?” you ask. Out of all of Wonwoo’s close friends, Hansol is the most level-headed. He’s stable, and kind, and if you weren’t so into Wonwoo, you’d even admit Hansol is quite handsome in his own way.

“Someday,” Hansol sighs. “Maybe you’ll have cute bridesmaids at your wedding.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” you assure him.

Hansol laughs. “I’d appreciate that.”

Food begins to arrive at the table, and you sit up straight again, tucking close to Wonwoo. He’s done this thing, ever since your first date, where he helps plate food for you, and for some reason, it’s always been a huge turn-on.

You like getting baby girl treatment, and you watch Wonwoo with a grin while he cuts through some carpaccio and sets up a piece for you. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate before putting anything on his own, and his friends are already digging in by the time he’s gotten the both of you settled.

“Do you want anything else?” he asks, always the type to be certain he’s pleased you.

“This looks perfect,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering by his ear so he’s the only one who can hear you when you say, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Wonwoo reaches down and squeezes your thigh, the only sign you have that your words have done something to him. He’s not the type to be big on PDA, and it’s the little things like a constant touch, or acts of service, that remind you he loves you as much as you love him.

You wait for Wonwoo to lift a carpaccio bread spread to his lips before you reach for your own, mirroring his motions so you can experience the food together.

You hadn’t been a carpaccio fan before meeting Wonwoo, but he’s expanded your pallet in the time you’ve known him, and you’re extremely thankful for this opportunity - as well as others - that he’s provided for you.

“Look at you two loved-up foodies,” Seungcheol sighs from across the table, watching you with eyes trained to assess.

Wonwoo only grins, reaching for his drink to take a sip. You follow that motion too, smirking over the rim of your glass before downcasting your eyes.

There’s no need to respond to Seuncheol’s comment because it’s an apt description of the pair of you.

“Stop being jealous,” Mingyu grins, reaching out to push at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Never going to happen,” Seungcheol retorts.

You know he’s in the market for a sugar baby, and Wonwoo’s told you how often Seungcheol brings you up when you’re not around. Apparently, his eldest friend is adamant that you’re one of the most perfect sugar babies he’s ever seen, and you wonder if maybe you should try to hook him up with one of your friends at the wedding. Give Cheol the Hansol treatment. However, in contrast to Hansol’s laid-back expectations, you’d have to give your Cheol-intended friend a cheat sheet booklet on how to please a rich man.

“Just watch,” Seungcheol continues, “these two are going to sneak off early and go to the bathroom or something. They’re sitting much too close together, and we’ve all noticed Wonwoo’s hand under the table.”

To show his innocence, Wonwoo lifts the hand in question. “We’re not doing anything,” he assures his friends calmly. “Although… unfortunately, we will have to leave early after appetizers.”

This is news to you, and you look at Wonwoo for further clarification, which he gives when pressed by Seungcheol.

“It’s been a long seminar,” Wonwoo explains, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’d say Honey needs her beauty rest, but I think we all know I’m not so nice when I’ve been sleep deprived.”

You love it when he calls you Honey, in fact, he uses that name for you more than your legal one.

Seungcheol lets out a groan, but he doesn’t push further, because Wonwoo’s excuse is true. He’s never been rude to you when tired, but he definitely has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.

“We’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” Mingyu agrees. “Maybe I should get another drink and call it a night too.”

“Come on Gyu,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’ll let these two ditch, but this is Hansol’s last night in the city, I thought we could go to a roof on one of my new waterfront builds and hit some golf balls at the sea.”

“Right, because that’s very environmentally friendly,” Wonwoo tuts.

“Jesus, you are tired, aren’t you?” Seungcheol laughs.

It’s a rhetorical question, and Wonwoo simply lifts another appetizer to his mouth, chewing with a tight-lipped grin.

In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today.

He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated-

God, you want him so bad.

You take a sip of your cocktail again before resting your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh, and he stops what he’s doing to look down at your fingers toying with his pants. Then his gaze rises to you, and he cocks his head slightly, obviously a little stunned by how forward you’re being tonight.

It’s such a small motion, but it speaks volumes, and when paired with a small flutter of your lashes, Wonwoo reads you like he reads the books in his impressive office library.

Part of you wants to toy with him, wants to tease your touch up to his crotch just to see if you can get him hard at dinner with his friends, but you know that would lead to something akin to consequence.

As easy as it is for Wonwoo to read you, he’s not such an open book and his reactions vary drastically. You don’t want to push your luck today, not after you’ve been such a good girl for him for three seminars straight.

You remove your hand before playing with fire gets you burned, and the two of you continue to finish your appetizers. Each bite is one step closer to leaving with Wonwoo, but you try to take your time, try not to be too glutenous to make way for lust.

Wonwoo finished eating and he lifts his drink with his left hand, his right palm finding your thigh again. His touch is soothing, gentle, but it still stirs a fire within you.

You shift your knee, letting it rest against his, and you sip your cocktail trying to pay attention to what Mingyu’s saying about the stock market.

Wonwoo is generally quite the stocks man. He pays attention to Mingyu, but you can tell his focus is still partially on you, and you reach down to play with his fingers, enjoying how pretty his hands are.

You need him so badly.

That’s when you realize Wonwoo has almost finished his drink, and you quickly grab at yours too, wanting to reach the bottom of your own cup.

You’ve not been drinking since the seminar started, and the booze in your cocktail definitely heightens your senses. An electric tingle consumes your form, and it’s getting harder to ignore the panties sticking to your core.

The conversation reaches a lull, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, squeezing your legs. “Well, it’s been fun,” he says, “but Honey and I should get going.”

“One more drink,” Seungcheol practically begs, already lifting a hand to call over a waiter.

“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says, soft but firm.

He stands up first, grabbing your hand to help you out of your own seat. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow, Hansol,” he nods to the man on your right.

“Good luck with wedding planning,” Hansol retorts, rising from his chair to pull you and Wonwoo into a hug.

Hansol’s not usually a touchy guy, and the hug means something. It’s a true acceptance that you’re permanently a part of Wonwoo’s life, and it means the world to you.

“Now I want a hug,” Mingyu also stands, holding out his arms for you and Wonwoo.

With a laugh, your fiance’s hand finds the small of your back and he guides you into Mingyu’s warm embrace, trapping you between their large bodies.

Now you’re really turned on.

Seungcheol doesn’t stand, he simply watches, lips all pouty. “Let me know about that penthouse,” he muses. “I’ve got some foreign buyers already wanting a walk through and I won’t hold it forever.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Wonwoo promises, giving one last nod to Seungcheol before he begins to guide you out of the restaurant.

As you make it to the front desk, Wonwoo stops and addresses the staff member there. “I’m going to take care of my table’s bill tonight.”

“I’ll put it on your tab, Mr. Jeon.” She nods, typing something into the ipad infront of her.

“That was kind of you,” you muse as Wonwoo escorts you into the elevator that will lead to the underground where his expensive Mercedes is parked.

“We’re leaving early, it’s the least I could do.”

“You know… I hope we didn’t leave on my account,” you say, thinking about the conversation you’d had in the car earlier.

Wonwoo leans down close to you, grinning. “I can safely say we left due to my own personal needs, although they’re not sleep-related.”

“You really like this dress, don’t you, Daddy?” you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while his hands settle on your hips.

“I like what’s under it,” he retorts, which is a cheeky response by Wonwoo’s standards.

“Been missing my body, haven’t you?”

“More than you realize.”

Wonwoo had kept his composure on the drive home. He’d even kept his hands mostly to himself on the way up to your apartment, but your stoic lover is on you the moment the door to your home is closed behind you both.

He presses you up against the wall, grabbing your waist and tugging you close while simultaneously blocking you up against the hard surface at your back. His lips are hot against your own, his tongue invading your mouth and making you giggle as you grab the front of his shirt, already popping buttons open.

You release a moan when he reaches down and cups your core, pushing up your dress to access your lacey panties. “Where do you want it, honey?” he asks, biting at your lip.

“I don’t want to think tonight,” you admit, tired from days of brain power.

You love that Wonwoo likes to check in with you. He’s not the type to simply throw you over a kitchen counter and rail you when you might prefer the bed or even the shower- but at the same time, as soon as you give him full control, Wonwoo’s very good at taking charge.

“I’ll take care of you,” Wonwoo promises, pushing your panties to the side so he can slide two fingers against your heated core. You can feel how wet you are, and the contact against your clit has you whining, grabbing his face to bring his mouth to yours again while he pushes two digits knuckle deep into your aching core.

You’re sensitive from a few days without being touched, and it feels like heaven to have Wonwoo worshipping you like this again. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he draws his mouth down to your jaw then your throat, peppering your skin in kisses that have you shivering with pleasure.

“Daddy-” you whimper, your hips thrusting toward his hand as he works you open, palming your clit with delicious pressure.

“I know, Honey, I know,” he soothes, and between gasped breaths and moans, you can hear your pussy squelching already.

It’s getting harder and harder to stand on your shaky legs, your heels not meant for standing sex or heavy petting like this. But it’s also clear to you that Wonwoo has no intention of stopping his motions until you’ve cum on his fingers, so you do your best to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself while that wonderful feeling builds in the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve missed this pussy,” Wonwoo tells you, voice low. It’s not often that he uses vulgarity, even in the bedroom, and his words betray how much he truly needs you. Your skin tingles with excitement, pussy throbbing, heart thundering in your chest-

It’s crazy how one sentence can nearly shortcircuit your brain when paired with Wonwoo using his hands like this- stroking the parts of you that he knows better than anyone else in the world.

Your fiance has taken his sweet time getting to know your body, and it shows in moments like these.

“I’m so close-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. You should care about his expensive suit jacket, but you don’t- all that matters is the orgasm you’re desperately chasing, hips moving to ride Wonwoo’s hand while his unrelenting fingers get you closer and closer to the edge-

“Come on, honey,” Wonwoo grins, mouth returning to the spot on your neck that always makes you go feral, “cum for me.”

One more rough thrust with his fingers has you moaning, tumbling past the edge as your orgasm overtakes you.

If you’d nearly been falling over before this, you almost crumple to the floor with all the pleasure coursing through you now. Wonwoo’s free arm loops around your waist, and he presses you closer to the wall, keeping you propped up while his hand continues between your shaking thighs.

He releases a low groan, and you can feel his cock pressing through his pants by your hip. You feel delirious already, body pulsing, skin tingling. Wonwoo’s broad shoulders are your lifeline, and you grip them desperately, taking everything he has to give you like the good girl you are.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, seeking out his lips, cupping his face to draw him closer. His tongue glides against your own, and you’re enough of a distraction that his fingers begin to slow inside of you.

Finally, he pulls his hand away from between your thighs, dragging his lips from yours so he can sink his digits into his mouth. You watch him lick them clean, listening to the groan of satisfaction that escapes him while you do your best to catch your breath.

“You’re always so good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, lifting his gaze to yours again.

You swallow thickly, mind swimming, searching for a response. “You deserve it,” you assure him finally.

“And I know what you deserve tonight,” he retorts.

In one quick motion, he lifts you up bridal style. One of your stilettos crashes to the floor from the sudden way your body has just been swung like a rag doll, but neither of you care as Wonwoo carries you through the apartment toward the bedroom.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Wonwoo always makes you feel like a princess, and he looks like a classic prince while doing it. His side profile is so regal- all sharp bones and pretty lips. God- how did you ever get this lucky?

When you get to your destination, Wonwoo is gentle when he sets you onto the mattress. He straightens and looks down at your form, letting out a deep breath.

“Can you take that pretty dress off for me, honey?” he asks, already shrugging off his suit jacket and setting it over a chair nearby.

“Of course, daddy,” you grin, reaching down to grab at the hem of the silky outfit, dragging it up your thigh.

His eyes are glued to you even as he works on his cuff links, and you take your sweet time as he makes it to the buttons of his shirt. The dress has a corset style back, and you tug on the ribbon before slowly working it open.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but you can see his breathing pick up as the fabric gets less tight on your chest, revealing more and more of your bralessness.

When he makes it to his pants, you remove the dress, leaving you in nothing but your thong, which is soaked through.

Your fiance swallows thickly. “Panties too, honey. I don’t think I have the patience to wait any longer tonight.”

His lack of patience is clear in the way his cock slaps up against his abdomen, released by the pants now pooled by his feet.

Wonwoo looks like a fucking God, especially while naked. He’s lean but muscled, and you’ve spent hours tracing each ridge and bone. His cock is an impressive length of around seven inches, it’s pale like the rest of him, but when he’s really turned on, it flushes in colour.

Right now, his cock is a pinkish red, and you can see the angry tip already leaking desperately.

You stand up, sneaking a kiss to his lips while hooking your fingers in your panties. Pushing them down, you get onto your knees.

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

“Maybe I’m impatient too, have you ever thought of that, daddy?” you ask, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to kitten lick the tip.

Wonwoo releases a low groan, reaching down to thread his fingers through your hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, enjoying the way he reacts when you kiss his cock gently. “Missed the weight of you in my mouth.”

“Fuck-”

It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and the word goes straight to your core.

“Can I touch myself while I suck you off, daddy?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admits. “I want you dripping when I finally pull you off my cock and fuck you the way you like it.”

You whimper, your whole body alight with energy as you take him into your mouth. You’re already practically drooling from his fingers earlier and the dirty talk now, which makes it easy to coat him in spit.

You’ve never been able to take all of Wonwoo in your mouth, but you do your best, gripping the base and bobbing your head while you begin to toy with your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, taking a deep breath as his hand guides you on his cock. “Always so good for me.”

The praise only makes you suck on him harder. You sink so far down onto him that his tip hits the back of your throat. You feel yourself constrict around him and Wonwoo lets out a loud moan, fingers flexing in your hair.

“Careful, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he tells you, but his voice has lost it’s usual commanding tone. He’ll let you do anything you want to him, even if it means gagging on cock- but he’ll do his best to be gentle with you verbally at least.

You get lost in the feeling of pleasuring him, closing your eyes and letting your mouth show him how much you’ve missed him… however, not in so many words.

Actions speak volumes, especially in this case.

You continue working on your pussy too, eventually slipping two fingers into your wet core, which makes you moan around Wonwoo’s cock.

“Honey-” he groans.

You can tell that he’s on the verge of breaking, so you pull off his length, looking up at him while catching your breath. “Ready to fuck me now, daddy?”

“I’ve been ready all night,” he grins, reaching down to grab your hand and help you to your feet.

He kisses you then, cupping your face and leaning forward, taking your breath away all over again. His palm flatens against the small of your back and he dips you backward- then you’re falling, a small squeal escaping you-

The fall is only an inch or two, and you hit the mattress, Wonwoo bearing down on your form almost immediately. You grab at his shoulders as his lips find yours, your legs wrapping around his lean hips to tug him closer.

His cock is still wet with your spit, and it rubs deliciously through your soaked folds, bumping your clit and making you moan into the kiss.

As impatient as Wonwoo seemed to be, he’s not quick to adjust himself against you- or at least, not quick enough for your liking, so you reach between your bodies and grab his cock, lining him up with your wet hole.

Wonwoo grins against your lips, and in one motion, he sinks into your core.

You moan loudly, digging your nails into his strong shoulders and throwing your head back as he fills you perfectly, stretching out your walls.

Your fiance takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot.

He feels like heaven- you’re really not sure how long you’ll be able to last tonight, but that’s never mattered with Wonwoo. You have forever with this man, which means you can be as fast or slow as you’d like to be.

He begins to thrust in and out of your core, and it makes you cry out again, walls contracting around his cock. You can feel him so deeply, especially as he adjusts your legs, pushing your thighs closer to your chest.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, not a care in the world for using a ‘correct’ title. Your fiance might enjoy the daddy kink, but he’s never been the type to punish you for slipping up and calling him something different.

It’s clear to both of you how far gone you are, and Wonwoo only grins against your throat, picking up his pace.

“How about you rub your clit for me, honey?” he asks.

You’re not one to question him, and your hand slips between your bodies to seak out the sensitive nub. More sounds of pleasure escape you as you begin to rub yourself, and your moans only push Wonwoo to fuck you harder.

Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it’s making you delirious.

Wonwoo finds your free hand, threading your fingers and using you as leverage as he presses you against the mattress. His breath is hot on your throat, but soon he’s seaking out your lips again, and you eagerly kiss him as if your life depends on it.

There’s an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, spurred on by your fingers on your clit and the cock filling you up with each rough thrust.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to check in on you, and you don’t need to tell him you’re close, you’re certain he can tell. He tightens his grip on your hand, a silent invitation to let go whenever you want.

Each drag of his cock against your inner walls draws you closer and closer to the edge, and when he breaks the kiss to lick your throat, it allows you to focus entirely on the pleasure between your legs.

“Fuck, daddy-” you whimper, back arching as you shift below him.

“I know, honey,” he groans. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your body jitters with near orgasmic bliss. “Can you cum with me?”

“Of course, just tell me when.”

“Please-” you moan, writhing against the sheets as he fucks you even harder. “Please, daddy- I want you to fill me up-”

Wonwoo groans, teeth dragging by the sensitive skin of your throat.

“Please, please- fuck, I’m almost there-” you rub your clit harder, body tensing on the precipice of your orgasm-

“Shit,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand to the point where it almost hurts- and even though he doesn’t say it, it’s clear to you that he’s reached his own high.

The thought that Wonwoo is so turned on he’s just cum before you - something that never happens - is enough to drag you over the edge, your core clamping down on his cock, eager to milk him for everything he’s worth while you cry out in ecstasy.

He’s gasping against your throat, thrusts even deeper now- slow, steady little ruts as he coats your insides with him cum, filling you up perfectly.

You get lost in the feeling of him, squeezing his hand back as a silent encouragement while your pussy continues to squeeze his cock, eager to get every last drop.

When he finally comes to a stop, he simply lays on top of you for a moment, the both of you breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I’ve just remembered-” you pull your hand away from your clit, instead moving to stroke his hair, “What did Seungcheol mean about the penthouse you were looking at?”

Wonwoo lets out a small chuckle. “Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?”

“Yes, please.”

Your fiance pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “I’ve been thinking we might need a bigger place… one that could accommodate a few extra rooms.”

“Extra rooms?” you cock a brow.

“For any kids we might have, you know, after we’re married.”

Your entire body tingles with excitement.

While the two of you have talked about children in a general manner before, nothing has ever been set in stone. But you suppose now that you’re engaged, it’s natural this sort of thing would be on Wonwoo’s mind.

“How do you feel about that?” Wonwoo asks.

“I feel like…” you swallow thickly, “I want you to fill me up again, and also that I should book a doctor's appointment to discuss going off birth control.”

“I can definitely help you with that first one,” Wonwoo grins, pressing chaste kisses all across your face while you giggle and hold him tighter.

“We’re really doing this,” you whisper.

Wonwoo’s thumb brushes by the ring on your wedding finger. “Honey, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”

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🔮 preview. You pull away just as his lips are about to meet yours. “You know how appreciative I am whenever daddy gets me a present,” you say, acting innocent. This only makes him laugh, and he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You know buying things for you does the same thing to Wonwoo that it does to you. He loves seeing the excitement in your eyes, the way you light up at gifts. He truly lives to provide for you.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink/wanting to get reader pregnant, sugar daddy Wonwoo, daddy kink, soft dom!Wonwoo, oral, pussy eating, fingering, breif edging, squirting, groping, sickly sweet loved up sex, crying during sex cuz reader is so in love, mentions of pain kink, hair pulling, teasing, dirty talk, fucking on a kitchen counter, Wonwoo talks about reader getting ‘plump’ with pregnancy, he adores the ‘soft bits’, etc. I petnames. (hers) honey (his) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

“Can I take this off yet?” you ask, wobbling in your heels as you grab at the silk blindfold blocking your vision.

“Be patient, honey,” Wonwoo breathes in your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he guides you to whatever surprise destination he has in store for you tonight.

Christmas is a week away, and the last time he blindfolded you like this was for your birthday. He’d taken you to a Mercedes dealership to let you choose any car you wanted. You have no clue what he has in store for you now, and you’re practically shaking with excitement.

You know he’s driven you somewhere, and you’ve been in an elevator, so it must not be another car- your list of gift possibilities is somewhat thin. You have a hunch, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself just in case you’re wrong about where your fiance is leading you.

Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and his hands stop you in your tracks. His breath is hot by your ear a moment later, and he lets out something like a contented sigh. “Okay. Let me help you take this off.”

His deft fingers work at the loose knot behind your head; soon the blindfold slips away.

Your eyes adjust to the light, and you blink while taking in the space in front of you. You’re in a large open-concept kitchen, a living room sprawled in front of you with views of the whole city. The decor is lavish luxury, and you recognize the design concept as a Choi Seungcheol special when you notice a specific lighting fixture that Cheol puts in all his expensive builds.

“Wonwoo-” you breathe, mind spinning.

The man behind you flattens his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your frame while he rests his head on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“Is this…”

“It’s ours,” your fiance confirms. “I wanted to show it to you on Christmas day, but I couldn’t help myself.”

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kingkatsuki · 8 months

Text

— heatwave

I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.

Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.

The only bonus was having a roommate like you.

Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.

But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.

You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.

Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—

You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.

“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.

And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.

“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.

It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.

Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.

His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.

He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.

But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.

And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.

“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.

Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.

“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.

At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.

His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.

“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.

You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.

“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.

Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.

“Katsuki,” You whine.

His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”

You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.

The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”

“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.

“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.

“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.

“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”

“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”

“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.

Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.

“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.

“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”

“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”

“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”

“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.

“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.

He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.

“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.

“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”

You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.

“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”

“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”

You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”

“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”

You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.

“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”

You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.

Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.

“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.

You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.

“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.

“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.

“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”

“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.

Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.

“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.

“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”

Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”

The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.

“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”

“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”

“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”

“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”

The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.

“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.

The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.

“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.

His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—

You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.

Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.

“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.

“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”

“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”

He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.

“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”

Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.

“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.

“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.

“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.

#Bakugou x reader #Bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou smut

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cheeseceli · 8 months

Text

SKZ arguing over the bill

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff

Request: yes!

Warning: mentions of food, reader never pays lmao. Changbin, Chan, Seungmin's were heavily inspired by "Telling your Stray Kids boyfriend you can’t afford to eat out with them" by @ronnierites . If you don't allow this pls lemme know and I'll delete this post. Not proofread

A/n: that's kinda a new format, hope you guys like it! And this have been on my to do list since forever lol sorry for the wait

Bang Chan

Doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable

But he wants to spoil you so badly

Would let you pay if you were uncomfortable but he wants to make sure you get it he would love to pay for you as well

"You know Chris, I can pay for it."

"I know."

"So?"

"I'd rather do it. But thank you baby."

"But-" you stopped talking once you saw his card swiping. You truly should be used at this point "oh."

"Why do I feel like you're unhappy?"

"It's not that I am not happy, it's just that you always pay."

"It's my pleasure."

"But I don't know, I don't want you to think you're being pressured or something like that."

"Babe, I don't feel like that at all. Don't you worry. You're always doing so much for me, that's just a little 'thank you' of mine."

You gave him a little smile and proceeded to hug him, feeling safe in his warmth.

"I'm so lucky to have you."

"I should be the one saying it."

Lee Know

Bro you don't even spare a chance

He's paying before you even have a chance to take your wallet out of your pocket

I'm surprised you even try tbh

"Should we ask for the bill?"

"Oh, I already paid for it, don't worry."

You looked dumbfounded at him while he was finishing his food. You didn't see him talk to a waiter and you're sure he didn't pay for it before you two had your meal.

"What? When?"

"When we were asking for the dishes. Didn't you see it?"

"No?" you tried to recall the moment with no success "Why would you pay? I feel bad that you pay for everything all the time. I don't feel like reciprocating enough."

His eyes soften and a little smile comes to his lips while he watches you pout. If only you knew how much you did for him.

"Hey, look at me. It's okay. You already reciprocate with everything you do. That's already perfect"

Changbin

He pays with the money, you pay back with kisses

Sorry but that's his boyfriend duty

He is physically incapable of not paying for everything

"Hey baby. I'm off work in 40 minutes. I'll pick you up so we can have lunch, okay?"

You were glad that for once you were on a voice call with him instead of being in a face time like you'd usually do. This way he didn't see the way your smile dropped so quickly.

"Um, I don't think I'll be able to."

"Oh? Why?"

"I'm kinda... broke right now. I haven't received my last payment yet."

"Okay? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't want you to be the one who always pays for our things. I should be able to pay sometimes."

"You don't need to. That's my boyfriend duty. You know I don't mind, I actually enjoy it quite a lot."

"Still bothers me though. I'd hate to not contribute at all."

"You can always cuddle with me and shower me with kisses. That will make me happier than anything money can buy."

Hyunjin

Stop he'll be like genuinely so sad if he can't pay

He would let you pay if you were really insistent

But then he'll go like :( and you would let him take the bill out of pity lmao

"Hyunjin, stop looking at me like that."

"But darling, I can pay. You know it doesn't bother me."

"Just this once, let me pay, okay?"

"Okay"

"...Jinnie I really need you to stop that."

"I'm not even doing anything."

"Oh God" you sigh and let your head fall, knowing the man beside you won the argument once more "Fine. You can pay."

He didn't waste a second, swiping his card as fast as possible just so you couldn't have the time to change your mind. After he payed the meal, he took your hand in his and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant's exit with a triumphant (and really sweet) smile.

"I swear I don't get why you like to pay so much."

"My love should be treated as royalty, and that includes me paying for everything you wish for."

Han

Bro is offended

Believes with all his heart that he should be the one paying

Tries to distract you when the time to pay comes

"Were you paying while I was in the restroom?"

"... perhaps."

"Han."

"Baby. You know I like to pay for you."

"But you do that all the time."

"It's my way of showing love! If you ask me, I actually don't think it's enough. It's the least I can do."

He could see in your eyes that you weren't convinced. Unfortunately (for you), he only saw that as an opportunity to spend even more money. Maybe then you would believe him.

"C'mon, lemme show you a little bit of love. You can pay me back with thousands of kisses if that's what's bothering you."

Felix

He loves to pay.

If he could, he would pay for absolutely everything that you could ever want or need.

But if that's something which really bothers you, he will let you pay as well

Tries to do that "the one who invites is the one who pays" thing and fails

"Felix. Don't even dare."

He looked at you confused until he realised you were staring at the credit card in his hand, probably hoping that it could disappear before the waiter came back with the bill.

"C'mon, it's just a small lunch. I can pay for it."

"No. I invited you. I pay."

"Actually, if you think about it, I'm the one who suggested this place."

"Two years ago."

"Still counts."

"Not as an invitation though. I'm the one who asked if you wanted to come here."

Felix sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince you of otherwise. If only he could.

"Okay. Next time it's on me."

Seungmin

LMAO sorry you're 100% not paying

Don't even try

Boyfriend duty pt 2 except he is even more dedicated somehow

"Why did you bring your wallet?"

"I wanted to pay for this one."

"... why?"

"You always pay for everything."

"And I don't plan on stopping so you can take your wallet away."

"Minnie, please. I don't want you to be the one who always end up paying for everything."

"But I want to. I wouldn't mind paying for every single thing for the rest of our lives. So you can't take your money away of my sight because I'm paying."

"For the rest of our lives huh?"

"Don't tease." But you didn't miss how the corners of his lips lifted once he thought you weren't looking anymore.

I.N

Rock, paper, scissors. The winner is the one who pays

It's funny and neither of you can complain about the outcome of it because it's technically fair

Except you always throw scissors first and never noticed it

And Jeongin doesn't have the heart to tell you

"We should change this game."

"No way" he said while giving the money to the cashier whilst trying to hide his grin from you "Not my fault you are horrible at this."

"Seriously though, I think you're cheating. It's impossible for you to win every single time."

"How does one cheat at 'rock, paper, scissors'? Besides, you won yesterday."

"After losing at least 50 times. And I got to pay for some ice cream. It's not the same as paying for a whole meal."

"Get better at this and maybe you get to pay for a whole meal one day. C'mon, we can have some milkshake now. Maybe you'll win this time."

You had a feeling you wouldn't though. He was sure you wouldn't.

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

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ilove-masked-men · 22 days

Text

”How much do her parents make?”

a y/n x Johnny (Soap) Mactavish forbidden love based fanfic

Y/N POV

Arguing about money again, ofcourse they were, my dad loves to start arguments about money when he can’t afford his whiskey because mom payed for the rent instead of cigerettes. It was horrible, you asked him to go to rehab again but he said it “only made him worse” we all knew he was lying. I needed out and immediately. I didn’t want to go into the living room through front door though, they would drag me into the argument. I only had one other way out - my window. Right outside my window was a skip we had hired to clear out the house but we had barely used it, the only thing inside of it were some pillows and old blankets, creating the perfect soft landing.

I jumped out and down onto it, it hurt, but not as much as it would if there wasn’t any cushoning. I got up and started walking, it was cold, even with my thickest coat on. It was so late too, almost tweleve and i was out walking. I’m asking to be kidnapped.

I was too busy lost in thought to see the man i had bumped into, almost knocking both of our balance. I mindlessly grabbed onto him for stabilty with my eyes squeezing shut in shock.

“What’s somet gorgeous la’hk yo’ou doin’ all about this late at ni’ht?” A heavy Scottish accent asked me, he didn’t seem to mega uncomfortable, but i let go of him without hesitance to make sure.

I realised i still had my eyes closed and opened them up, to be blessed in my vision… i think. He had an uneven smirk on his lips as he looked at me, with an extremely noticable mowhawk and peircing blue eyes. His face was imperfect but in all the right ways that made him something amazing to look at. He had the perfect build, his whole body being perfectly proportioned in his skin tight black shirt and slightly baggy blue jeans, only tight in the right places.

“Still waitin’ for me answer pretty.” He said with a slight scoff, he was so full of himself i couldn’t help but be flattered.

“Uhm, sorry i was just going for a walk.” I answered directly, looking down.

“At twelve o’clock at ni’ht? Are you sure tha’s it?” He asked, his voice rung with a slight concern in it.

“Oh.. i mean, you know how it is.. rough night..” I explained to him, becoming more and more nervous, which he clearly picked up on.

“Hey, i ain’ abou’ to try and kidnap yo’ou or other stuff. How old are yous? And what’s your name? I’m 18 and me name is Johnny, but yous can call me Soap.” He asked me the questions so gently and he sounded so sincere i fell undee his spell, i made eye contact with him and smiled slightly.

“I’m y/n and i’m 16.” I told him, i felt more comfortable with him now that i had felt used to him.

“What time have yous gotta be home lovie? You wanna walk n’ talk?” He asked me with a kind smile.

I nod and begin talking to him, walking down the road next to him. He bought us coffee at the 24 hour cafê and we got phone numbers, i hope we can keep in touch alot, tonight was amazing - i met him at 12:00 and i got back home at 2:00. He even walked me home, i was writing about him in my diary for ages, filling up 3 pages just describing and drawing him. I slept like a baby after hetting everything off my chest too.

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #john soap mactavish #cod mwf2 #cod fanfic #sergeant johnny mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish

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we-were-so-beautiful · 4 months

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3. taxi

oh man, this one FOUGHT me y'all. so much cutting and pasting. I am not even kidding when I say that everything that happens in this chapter was supposed to be part of the last one, and I gave up and cut that one off early because I was sick of trying to finish this part. and now this is my longest chapter yet. you know, out of all three of them. at 1.3k. lol. I am not, how do you say, fast. but I was hoping I'd be able to get a chapter written over christmas, and I'm really proud of myself for finishing it!

Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, cage mention, rampant classism. As always, please tell me if there's anything else I need to tag.

[masterlist] [chapter two] [chapter four]

“Okay I know they’re supposed to be expensive but what can you possibly be charging this much money for.”

“Adoption fees are to offset the cost of room, board and medical care while at the facility,” the employee parrots, without so much as the decency to look ashamed.

“He does not look like he has had literally any of those things while he’s been here. Or possibly in his entire life.”

“Ma’am, if you cannot afford the adoption fee, then you cannot adopt a Pet.”

“Oh, I can afford it,” Vanessa growls, handing over a very shiny credit card before her mouth can get her in enough trouble to stop the employee from taking it. She bites her lip until she tastes copper to keep from saying, I’d just rather put it towards something that isn’t blatantly and obviously going right back into Worldwide Rehabilitative Un-fucking-limited’s pockets despite the fact that this is supposed to be a goddamn government facility.

Harm reduction, she reminds herself. Paying extortionate fees to kill shelters is still harm reduction. It’s the unsavory truth, but it doesn’t make the blood in her mouth taste any sweeter.

“Sign here,” the woman says, handing her credit card back along with a digital pad and stylus, and Vanessa cracks her wrist before she takes them. It’s sore and snapping like a glowstick from the mountain of paperwork she’s already been made to sign since the employee unceremoniously hauled the man on the floor behind her down from his double-high-stacked wire crate. She can’t decide whether to consider it an obscenely large amount, or an obscenely little one for all that it represents.

She can’t think about it too hard. Can’t draw too much of her own attention to the fact that she’s really doing this, or she might just run screaming back out into the grey-tinted autumn afternoon, and then where would this guy be?

She scribbles her name on the touchpad, and just like that… it’s done.

—

“Don’t forget your leash and collar,” the employee reminds her.

“I won’t be using those,” Vanessa says, with all the imperious rich-lady self-assurance she can fake.

“You will if you don’t want to be liable for civil and/or criminal penalties up to and including the permanent forfeiture of your right to Pet ownership,” the woman drones like she’s rattling it off from a handbook, and nobody has the right to own a person but even Vanessa knows better than to argue the system with someone who literally works for it.

She grinds her teeth as she takes the lengths of bulky blue nylon from the woman. She crouches beside the man, who’s bent himself into an odd kneeling fetal position on the cold tile floor. “Sorry,” she whispers as she slides the coarse material around his throat, feeling his pulse beat harsh and rapid underneath. She hopes she’s being quiet enough that the employee won’t hear her talking to him like a person—because he is a person, goddamnit—but she knows better than to trust her own volume. Best if she can get the fuck out of here with him now, before she makes a mistake.

She really doesn’t want to lead this dude crawling down the street like an animal. Doesn’t want to imagine what people will think. But she asks him, “Can you stand?”, and he makes a sound like a choking dog, and so much for both their dignity, she fucking guesses.

“Ugh, fine, whatever, just… come on.”

—

Fuck standing, the guy can barely support himself on all fours. His joints threaten to buckle at every step as Vanessa urges him out onto the chilly sidewalk. Coat of dirt aside, he’s got nothing on him but a pair of boxers as filthy as he is and that godawful blue collar, and when his bare skin meets the frigid pavement his body clenches so hard she can practically hear his teeth slam shut.

She looks at the unwashed man before her, shivering hard enough to rattle his bones in the cold October air. Looks at her thick brown coat. Ugh, she likes this coat, the lining is stitched in in all the right places to keep the texture of the shell from making her want to climb out of her own skin and no amount of dry cleaning in the world is going to convince her to put it on again once it touches… whatever the fuck is all goddamn over this guy. She sighs and shrugs it off.

Fuck fuck fuck it’s cold. She’s shivering herself in just plain blue jeans and her second favorite Cure t-shirt. But a million “if you’re cold, they’re cold!” memes flash through her mind and she grumbles aggrievedly and drapes the wool coat over his massive, gaunt frame. This dude has like a foot on her standing, she remembers when the lapels will barely pull around his shoulders. She’s gonna have to shake Austin down for clothes.

God, it feels beyond fucked up to have a person on a leash, and it doesn’t help that the cheap blue nylon feels plasticky in her hand and she hates the texture. She can’t imagine how much worse it must feel around the throat of the shuddering man before her. She’s taking the damn thing off him as soon as she gets him home, she’ll get him a better one if Roselle can’t find her a loophole and she absolutely fucking has to, but when the fifth or sixth cab passes her by without even slowing down she starts to wonder how the hell she’s going to get him home at all.

—

“You want to go to the corner,” the employee says boredly, not so much as looking up from her newspaper when Vanessa shoulders her way back through the door.

“You what?” Vanessa echoes.

“The corner. Better if you go another block or two, even. Cabs don’t stop in front of the shelter.”

Of course they don’t, Vanessa thinks.

She hipchecks the door back open and returns to the stupid goddamn hitching post they so conveniently provide along the front wall of the shelter, where she’s awkwardly strung up the loop of the stupid blue leash. “Hey, uh, dude? I’m gonna go up the street a bit, okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

He barely acknowledges that he’s heard her, curled back up under her coat in that same odd position with his forearms tucked into his chest. “...not that you would,” she adds dubiously, before power-walking away to the next block.

Vanessa hisses through her teeth in the bleak grey air and rubs at her goosebump-riddled arms, but true to the employee’s disaffected word it’s only a matter of minutes this time before a cab driver catches her wave and pulls over. “Thanks,” she says as she tumbles in. “I’m going back to the Heights. Need to pick someone up first, though. Just on the next block.”

The driver looks skeptical, but he rolls down the quiet street all the same—until he clocks the shelter just as Vanessa tells him to stop. “No. Nuh uh. No way. I don’t let Pets in my cab.”

“I’ll double your fare. Up front.”

The driver shakes his head, staring revulsed in the direction of the hitching post. “Not worth all that crud on my seats.” Oh. Great. He’s seen him.

“What if I cover the seats. Newspaper.”

The driver sizes her up with a calculating gaze, one elbow propped on the back of his seat, and somewhere in the middle of wanting to punch him for looking at her she finds herself wishing for once that she’d dressed… richer. Finally, he grouses, “Triple fare. And the meter’s runnin’ while ya cover ‘em.”

“Fine,” Vanessa spits, and sprints out with the door wide open before he has time to change his mind.

She barges into the shelter one last time, hopefully the last fucking time in her life if she has any say in it. Leaning over the counter, with a grin that’s probably a little too smug for her to be proud of, she snatches the newspaper directly out of the apathetic employee’s complicit hands.

taglist: @maracujatangerine @pigeonwhumps @tragedyinblue @marchtothefuckingsea @octopus-reactivated @briars7

#whump #pet whump #rescue whump #recovery whump #bbu #box boy universe #vanessa + juniper #disaster caretaker #imperfectly consistent #tw dehumanization #tw classism #I feel like I'm writing more plot than whump here #like I could be leaning way more into descriptions of what dude's experiencing but I'm just trying to get through all these fucking scenes #the not leaning into whump part is unsurprising but the concerning bit is that I can't actually write plot. at all #so if that's what's supposed to be holding this together then well. uh.#we'll see how that goes I guess lol #oh I almost forgot!#points to whoever catches my wru mention #it's probably not subtle lmao #I just wanted to do something a lil different #ps idk what the fuck happened to my section dividers #but tumblr seems to have retconned it into my previous chapters as well #so it's probably not something I can fix lmao #btw if it wasn't obvious. I've never been to nyc in my life and I have no idea how anything works including taxis #just pretend they invented box boys instead of ride shares I fucking guess #@ my ass writing a novel in the tags instead of writing. you know.#the actual novel

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whisperprime · 2 years

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Part 1

It's 2189.

Hob is sitting at a table in The New Inn. He isn't meeting anyone. The only person he would have meet on this day is dead some 100 years and change. He argued and debated with himself on this day in 2089, the first centennial meeting that his old friend wouldn't be meeting him at. What was the point, if he wouldn't be there?

In the end, he came and he transformed this night into a night of remembrance. To remember the people he's meet - and lost - along with all the things he's done. A day to grieve. But also a day to remember why he still wants to live to see the next century.

It's because he's not expecting anyone that he's a bit startled when someone sits down in the seat across from him.

He means to tell them, politely, that he's not in the mood for company. To move, if he must. But all thoughts come to a halt when the other man says, "Hob Gadling?"

Hob hasn't told anyone that name in a century. Hasn't heard it outside his own head in so long it almost sounds wrong. This person - whoever he is - knowing it puts him on alert.

The other man picks up on his unease. He's quick to explain he means no harm. [Not sure how to get there, but the other man get Hob to listen to him and eventually explains that he's Someone Who Exists, But Shouldn't. His continued existence will one day bring about the premature end of this reality.]

"Why are you tell me all of this?" Hob says, not sure if he believes any of this. Is equally unsure if he can afford to ignore it. "What can I do?"

The other man explains that many years ago, someone fell under the Sleepy Sickness that could have done something to that would have set off a chain reaction that would have caused the other man to not exist. He's proposing to destroy a timeline, rather than destroying the universe. To change a fated point in time is hard - damn near impossible - but it can be done.

If someone is willing to pay for it, that is.

Hob gets where this is going. Asks, "Say I was willing to bite. What would I have to do?"

The other man would send Hob back in time. Little unpredictable, time travel. Lots of rules. But one way or another, Hob would take Dream's place as the individual Roderick Burgess summons. As Dream would never be summoned, the Sleepy Sickness would never happen. The target would never fall asleep and the universe would be saved.

Hob likes the idea of the universe continuing to exist. He also very much likes the idea of sparing his old friend this traumatic experience. Dream had changed after his imprisonment - maybe even for the better - but how high had the cost been? Was it really the only was for him to change?

Hob was willing to gamble it wasn't. He'd help humanity and the rest of the universe. But above all else, he'd do anything to help his old friend.

Even if it meant they may, potentially, never truly be friends again.

Hob agrees. The other man says he was ready to send Hob back anytime. Said he was adding another layer to help Hob win out against Fate: a seal that would hide Hob from the Endless. They won’t be able to perceive him at all. Additionally, it would seal his voice. The other man explains that Dream's silence during his imprisonment was legend, so too, must there be something similar in this trade.

Hob secretly thinks the other man thinks he won't keep his side of the bargain, but he's also never been imprisoned for a hundred years, so. Maybe it's fair to make it where he can't been seen by Death or to call on her.

It won't occur to him for a while that it means Dream won't be able to see or hear him either, but that will come later.

Hob doesn't see any point in waiting. Might as well do it now.

And so the other man does.

See, Hob didn't actually thing the other man was telling the truth. Thought he was off his rocker. But then the chair, table, and the very floor itself disappears from underneath him and he's falling...

And falling...

All at once he's hitting cold stone with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. He can hear voices around him, but his head's too muddled to make any sense of things. He has enough time to see the upside down face of none other Roderick Burgess just before the strain of the journey gets the best of him and he passes out.

Part 2

#the sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dreamling #my fics #mostly exercising this to flesh it out later #lunch time is over so I'll have to post the rest of it later

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le-trash-prince · 7 months

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Ray fans look away because I’ve got to vent a little.

One thing that particularly rubbed me the wrong way in regards to Ray using Sand as a surrogate caretaker was the comment about the nurse because it shows that Ray is not as helpless as he makes himself seem—he just wants to be spoiled.

And this is coming from personal bitter experience of having wealthy friends use me for both physical and emotional labor :| I had a friend tell me that she didn’t need to bother getting therapy because I could just repeat everything my own therapist was saying (even though she would then argue with every statement because she didn’t actually want to get better lmfao). I had a friend whose parents were Multiple Houses Rich tell me that therapy was “too expensive” as an excuse for constantly trauma dumping on friends—and then later that year drop 25k in cash on a car lmfao AHDJFJD JUST TO PUT IN PERSPECTIVE THE PERSONAL SALT I HAVE. I hate seeing rich ppl take advantage of someone less wealthy just so they can get something for free.

Because Ray has the audacity here to act like he’s helpless and uncared for, even though he has the money to meet his own damn needs! And Sand is rightfully commenting on it, just as he did earlier when he told Ray to save his money for a shrink.

Because yes, therapy is expensive. Rehab is expensive. Not everyone has access to those things, but Ray does! But instead he demands that Sand be the one to put in the work to make Ray feel better about himself.

Things like that can make a person feel really devalued. You feel obligated to help a friend because you want them to feel cared for, but when they manufacture these situations in order to demand labor from you, it makes you feel like they don’t care about the reason you’re doing this. No matter how much you bend over backwards to make sure that they’re okay, that they’re healthy—they don’t respect that effort by trying to take care of themselves. All they care about is getting attention.

And when it comes from a rich person, it’s like, what the fuck man? Why do you feel so entitled? You think your life is so stressful? You’re going to say that your life is stressful when Sand is working multiple hustles in order to pay off his family debts and get through school? Sand needs a roommate in order to be able to afford his apartment, meanwhile Ray is benefitting off of his dad’s second home. Ray can afford to have a nurse take care of him, but instead he asks Sand to take time away from making money that he needs.

Ray has never had to deal with the stress of paying for rent or food or dealing with debt collectors banging on his door. The only stress in his life is that people want him to care about himself! It really bugs me when rich ppl act like their needs are the only ones that matter 😠

The only thing standing between Ray and sobriety is Ray himself. And I’m not saying this to devalue how difficult it is to climb out of that pit, because I have fought depression myself for many years. But the barrier for a poor addict to reach sobriety is so much higher and the judgment they face for not being able to afford help is so much worse.

And I can’t believe Ray had the audacity to complain about his dad wanting him to get rehab. Like, this kid would prob be set up in the nicest rehab center in the country, going on nature walks and doing pottery, but he acts like it’s a sign that his dad doesn’t give a shit.

I’m not going to pretend like his dad is a great parent, but I’ll be honest—I’ve seen worse from people with alcoholic kids. I’ve seen people refuse to visit their kids in the ER when they’re at deaths door because it would be too much of a blemish on their reputation to acknowledge they’ve got an alcoholic kid—so I was honestly surprised Ray’s dad even showed up. The way his dad acted wasn’t great, but wanting his kid to get better is above the bare minimum of wanting his kid to disappear. 🤷‍♂️

I’ll also say this, but people who love Ray wanting to see him love himself is not a bad thing. No, it’s not easy to love yourself, it takes a lot of fucking work, but that doesn’t mean you should just avoid the work and push it off onto other people. He has people in his life who see enough value in him that they want him to feel the same way. And this episode has shown that no matter how much work someone else puts into loving and supporting a broken person, it will never make a difference until that person learns to love themselves.

Anyways I’m glad that the Poor Boy shirt returned to Sand this episode because I am done with feeling sorry for the rich boy. I don’t think this show is brushing over the class difference between Ray and Sand—it’s just Ray and Sand who have been trying to ignore it.

#only friends the series #only friends #only friends spoilers #em post

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radkindoffeminist · 3 months

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Today in idiots I argue with on TikTok:

Original video: It’s about if child support should be given for specific things/limited rather than being given as a cash sum. The story is about a guy who’s conflicted because he grew up as a child of divorce where his mum used child support to get an education to support her and her two kids and is doing better for it BUT now he has a kid with a woman he’s not with and is paying more for stuff for her in addition to the child support which he’s not even sure is used for the child.

My original response (in response to someone agreeing that it would never work): If anything, making women prove that it was all spent on the child would backfire on these men. They want to use it to prove that women are just spending it on themselves but really it would show how much goes into raising a child and they would have to pay more. (Side note: Still think it’s a bad idea, but just think it would massively backfire if implemented.)

Idiot Man: You mean like a woman using child support to pay for her education?

Me: OMG! Because that’s what the story with the unreliable narrator says actually happened so that’s obviously true for all women??? Anyway, the children were still fed, housed, and clothed so child support must have been used on them.

Idiot Man: Then where did the money for her education come from?

Me: Savings? Financial aid? Alimony? College loans? Her job?

Idiot man: It didn’t come from any of that.

Me: And you can prove that?

Idiot Man: The kids didn’t have new clothes.

Me: That proves nothing? The story is told from the POV of the son who likely didn’t know the full extend of his mother’s finances and therefore can’t make a judgement on this stuff. We can’t know if her education was actually paid for by child support without hearing from the mother because the OP is not a reliable source about his mother’s financial position.

Idiot Man: *something about society*

Me: This is about this story. But if you want to argue about society then please.

Idiot man (beginning to talk in a way which is straight up incomprehensible in order to talk down to me): Provide evidence that this story is false.

Me: Provide evidence that the child support money specifically was used to fund the mother’s education.

Idiot man: That’s not the point. I’m not the intellectually inept one who is trying to call the story false.

Me: I’m not calling the story false.

Idiot man: Yes, you are.

Me: Nope. Just saying that the child support money was used to feed, house, and clothe the children as they were fed, housed, and clothed and that we cannot know for certain if child support was being used for the mother’s education as the child is an unreliable narrator in the story. You’re calling me intellectually inept but the alternative to being critical of the story due to the unreliable narrator is believing every single story on the internet without question if there is no evidence to the contrary which is not the smart thing to do here.

Also, at some point he also argued that child support was too high because she could afford education but also questioned why they were unable to afford new clothing. Apparently, if you receive child support then you can’t be too poor to buy clothes for your children!

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lulubelle814 · 3 months

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Regards, Loki - Chapter 1

Master List

“How many times do I have to say no before it finally gets through your thick skull? I’m not into that kind of thing!” Louisa was having a hard time with her finances, and her friend, Cora, told her about this sugar daddy site. Her friend had brought it back up while helping her go through her laundry, hanging things up and pulling out a few items here and there that needed to be fixed.

“Come on, Lou. There’s more than one kind of sugar daddy. Yes, most give money in exchange for time and sex, but there are also those who are just lonely and want someone to talk to without any commitment.” Cora was really working hard to get her to try it out.

“I sincerely doubt it.” There was no way she would get her to do this. “Even at that, my boss is a horrible, despicable slave driver. How would I even have time to talk to a ‘sugar daddy’?”

“That’s exactly why you need to do this. You’re barely making ends meet as it is, and you haven’t gotten a raise in 2 years, not since that asshole became your boss. I don’t know why you haven’t already quit.” Cora held up a top with not one, not two, but three holes. “I think this one is well past its prime.” It was tossed into the trash pile. Lou swiped it back out.

“That’s one of my favorites! It can still be fixed.” Inspecting the top, she realized it couldn't be fixed and threw it back in the trash pile. “The thought of working on my resume and interviewing makes me nervous which then sets off my anxiety. I never know what to say to the interviewer. I was lucky I got this job. At least it pays for the necessities. And who knows? Maybe I’ll get a raise this year.”

There was a knock at the door. Cora went to answer, spoke briefly with whomever it was, and returned with food.

“I didn’t order anything. I can’t even afford to order something. They probably meant to deliver it to…..”

“Lou! You really need to shut up. I ordered the food. You need to eat, and you haven’t gone grocery shopping.” With that, Cora shoved some food over to her. Lou knew better than to argue with her and accepted it. “Now, back to that website.”

Lou turned back to look at the site her friend brought up. “I don’t know about this. What if they ask for something I’m not comfortable doing?”

Cora shrugged as she shoveled orange chicken into her face. “There’s no commitment. If you don’t want to do it, just tell them. When you sign up, it gives you a list of what you are and aren’t willing to do. Plus, depending on what you select from that list, it can give you the option to remain anonymous.” She didn’t understand why Lou wouldn’t just try while Lou had no idea why her friend kept pushing on this. They were supposed to be having a girls night, watching Labyrinth, and patching some clothes.

They stopped for a moment as their favorite scene came on screen: the ballroom sequence with Jareth. Both sighed when Sarah and Jareth started twirling and swirling around the floor. “I wish that was me.”

“You want someone to kidnap your nonexistent baby brother to lure you into a maze run by a morally gray man?” Lou didn’t have a sibling, but she did have a cousin she used to be close with but hadn’t talked to her in a long time and for good reason: she’d stolen her life savings and spent it on drugs. If she got kidnapped, she wouldn’t go after her, not anymore. Okay, she probably would.

They both laughed. “No! I want to be her: in a beautiful dress, dancing with a handsome man who can sing and dance and wants to take care of her.” That had been her dream since she was a child. In fact, David Bowie’s Jareth was her first crush.

Cora grabbed the remote to pause the film. “You can have that, you know. You’ll find him, or he’ll find you. In the meantime, we’re setting you up on that site. It doesn’t hurt to have a distraction in the meantime, and a paying one at that. Stop waiting for Mr. Right and go for Mr. Right Now.”

Lou grunted and grabbed her laptop. “Fine, but if he’s weird or creepy, I’m going to ditch the whole thing.” Her friend grinned in response. “Agreed. I wouldn’t let you be with someone like that anyways.”

They spent the next hour filling out her profile with some basic information. They asked for gender, age range (she selected 31 - 35 as it was done in groups), if she preferred men or women, an avatar, and a bio with what the user was looking for.

“Okay. Female, aged 31 - 35, looking for Male,” Cora took over the laptop.�� “Looking for Male, aged 31 - 45, intellectual companion to converse with. No sex, and no strings attached.” She selected a generic avatar and input the ‘nickname’ Sigyn. She found the options Cora mentioned about privacy level along with a check list of dos and don’ts to select from. Once finished, she posted before Lou could stop her. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll find your Loki!”

“I probably won’t get any messages anyways. Like I said, sugar daddies want physical intimacy and other stuff. No one wants to pay me just to chat with them.”

“You never know until you try. Just leave it up for a few days, and see if you get a hit. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right?”

Lou laughed. “You’re too funny. Mr. Right isn’t trolling a random sugar daddy website, especially not for someone like me.” Her self esteem had always been in the dumpster. It didn’t help that her ex treated her like trash, using lies and manipulation to make her believe she wasn’t worth being loved, that she was lucky to have him..

She pulled her favorite top back out of the pile, looking at it again. “Are you sure we can’t salvage this?” Cora pulled it out of her hands and took another look at it. “I mean, we can try, but I’m pretty sure it can’t be resuscitated.” After thirty minutes of stitching and restitching, the holes were gone, but the top looked a bit…..off. “Maybe if you wore a jacket with it?”

That’s exactly what she did the next day. She was running late for work and grabbed the nearest clean clothes, making sure to snatch one of her only two good jackets. Her tardiness did not go unnoticed by her shit head boss.

“Do you know what it means to be on time?” Her boss scoffed. To be fair, she was normally on time. To be late, especially this late, was an extremely rare occurrence, yet her boss seemed to have it out for her. She whipped around to look at him. His arms were crossed, left foot tapping on the floor, and a scowl on his face. He gave the appearance of a gentleman with his styled hair and tailored suit, but it only set to confirm that “beauty is skin deep”. His appalling nature made him the most hated man on the floor (not that upper management cared as his team produced excellent numbers, not that his team was ever made aware). Sometimes she wondered if he was especially dreadful to her after he made a pass at her during her first month on the job. “Or do you just not care?”

She was already having a bad day, and he seized every opportunity to make her feel like she was worth nothing which, she hadn’t realized yet, was another reason she hadn’t looked for another job. She felt completely worthless and just lucky she had this one. Louisa tried to stay invisible, but it didn’t work as much as she’d like it to.

The rest of the day was spent working on reports while berating herself for not only being late but also letting Cora talk her into signing up for that stupid site. She knew she’d never get a response. Men wanted women who would put out, not pay for conversation. Cora only made her promise to keep it up for a week, and she didn’t want to let her best friend down. Once the week was over, Louisa would delete her profile.

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scionshtola · 1 year

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Nights Like This

a gift for @gncrezan for the @wayfarer-exchange 😊 featuring their Wayfarer Rhys Aviv & Aeran Kellis word count: 2564 summary: Rhys and Aeran wrap up a difficult contract in eastern Arsenia, and take a little break at the market.

Outside a tavern in eastern Arsenia, Rhys leaned against a wall and tried to shake his dour mood, which hung over him like a cloud. The sun was setting in the distance, but the pink and orange sky served only to remind him just how long his day had been. He was tired and hungry, and his injured shoulder grew more and more stiff the longer he stood there.

The only distraction he had was the market. It was centered in the large courtyard at the end of the block and had spilled over into the surrounding streets. He heard vendors calling out the price of their wares over the din of the bustling crowd, and every so often the breeze carried the tantalizing smell of spices and frying meat that made his stomach grumble. He glanced at the tavern door, wondering if he could sneak away and use his remaining meager funds to grab something to eat before Aeran emerged to find him missing.

Inside the tavern, Aeran was dealing with their most recent employer, a human wine merchant who had hired them to deal with a pack of tetraghasts that were plaguing one of the routes into the town. Apparently, the crocodile-like creatures that lived near the river had discovered an affinity for his wine. It had finally become cheaper to pay him and Aeran to deal with them than to let his cart drivers fend for themselves.

He was an arrogant, pompous man who did not care for Wayfarers or, judging by how long Aeran had been inside, for holding up his end of the deal. Rhys had suspected the man might try to weasel his way out of paying them what they were due, though the job was hardly well-paying to begin with.

“I am not certain it takes two of you,” he’d said. “There are only three, after all. And their venom is not very strong, most of the time.”

But it wasn’t as if they could afford to be selective about their contracts these days. He was just grateful that Aeran had offered to deal with the man alone, though he suspected the offer was at least partly motivated by guilt—Rhys had stepped between him and an ambush by a fourth tetraghast. He’d saved Aeran and given him time and space to shoot the thing, but the impact had definitely sprained his shoulder. Aeran had hovered the entire trek back to the tavern, and then suggested that only one of them needed to suffer the horrible man’s presence.

“I won’t be long,” he’d said, cutting Rhys a smile and a quick, worried glance to his shoulder. “All he has to do is pay us.”

That was a quarter of an hour ago. Rhys glanced at the door again. Maybe he should check on him…

A shriek of laughter distracted him. A pair of giggling Aeda teens walked past him, heading away from the market, heads bent close together as they shared some kind of pastry shaped like a flower between them.

“We need to find a good spot for the firelights,” one of them said, tipping their head back to accommodate a rather large piece of the dessert.

“The sun hasn’t even set yet!” the other protested. In a hushed voice, she added, “And don’t talk about it so loud. It’s not sanctioned.”

“Everyone knows it’s happening, Nori. You can’t keep a firelight show secret.” Rhys could not see their face, but he was certain they were rolling their eyes. “And I don’t care. We are not letting Kiernan have the best view again. She still hasn’t shut up about the perfect view she had last summer.”

Their arguing voices faded as they headed down the street. The sugary scent of their pastry lingered behind them, making his mouth water. Just as he was once again considering leaving Aeran in search of something to eat, the tavern doors swung open. Aeran stepped out, mouth set in a grim line, but he broke into a smile when Rhys waved at him.

“Thought I was going to have to save you again,” Rhys said, pushing away from the wall.

In lieu of an answer, Aeran tossed a pouch at him. He caught it easily enough, the crowns inside clinking as he hefted the pouch in his palm. The weight of it surprised him—this was definitely more than the man had promised to pay them.

“Guess I didn’t have to worry about you after all,” Rhys said, and Aeran grinned at him.

“I don’t know what you mean. He was very amenable. Once I told him about your shoulder he even offered to pay extra for damages.”

Rhys scoffed. “Right. How did you manage that?”

“Do you really have such little faith in our employer?” Aeran teased. “A man with only the utmost respect for the Wayfarer Order and their craft? Who would never try to cheat us out of what we were due?”

When Rhys only raised his eyebrows, Aeran shrugged. “He was much more agreeable when I reminded him what exactly Wayfarers are trained to do. I don’t think he’ll be recommending us to his friends, though.”

Rhys shrugged. It wasn’t a huge loss for them—they had planned on leaving soon anyway, and the man’s friends were probably as weaselly as he was. At least Aeran had gotten them a bonus as a parting gift.

“Thanks for handling that,” Rhys said. He really was grateful he hadn’t had to talk to the man himself.

“Don’t worry about it,” Aeran replied. The corners of his mouth turned down into a slight frown as he glanced at Rhys’s shoulder for the hundredth time that day. “Besides, I think I owe you.”

Rhys gripped Aeran by the shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Yes,” he said, with a serious nod. “You do.”

Aeran’s eyes widened in surprise, but Rhys quirked his mouth into a small smile, letting him in on the joke. Aeran fought back a smile. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not like I’ve never saved you before, you know.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Rhys released him, turning his back on him and starting down the street toward the market. He tossed the pouch of crowns over his shoulder without looking back to see if Aeran would catch it. “Dinner is on you.”

***

Rhys had heard about the markets in eastern Arsenia before—snatches of conversation here and there in Nesactium about the size of them, tales from other Wayfarers about the extravagance. Stepping into the crowd, he had to admit this market certainly lived up to the stories.

The sun had set by now, and orbs of soft yellow light floated above the market, casting a warm glow over the street below. In his muddied trousers and boots, Varaniel hanging at his side, he stood out in the sea of people dressed in their finest serithans. Aeran didn’t blend in much better, though everyone seemed too caught up in their own business to spare a glance their way. Above the noise, he caught the faint sound of music.

He didn’t know where to look first. Vendors were set up in every direction, calling out their prices or shaking their heads at haggling customers. There were bins piled high with fruits and vegetables, crates of fish and meats hanging from hooks, bottles and casks of rich wine. Some sold bundles of herbs and had baskets full of spices to choose from, and others had recently baked bread, still warm thanks to the baker’s magic. The owners of various stalls were cooking up their own food, the mouthwatering smells nearly overwhelming him.

And it wasn’t just food. As they wound their way through the crowd, they came across merchants selling handmade and intricately painted pottery; a stand full of delicate blown glass of all colors, light refracting through the pieces and casting colorful shadows; a weaver selling brightly colored baskets and shawls; a bookseller standing behind a table stacked with books, the table dipping precariously in the middle under the weight.

He stopped at the last stand, giving himself a moment to breathe amid the chaos of the crowd. He picked up the closest book and flipped through the pages. It appeared to be a collection of maps of Rhesania, comparing the changes in the lands and artistic styling of the maps over time. He wondered how much it cost—this would be a good book to bring home for Cenric’s collection.

Rhys started to ask the seller for the price, when his mind caught up to his actions. The sudden grief was a blow to the chest, knocking the breath right out of him, an ache spreading through him that was deeper and sharper than the twinge in his shoulder. He dropped the book as if it had burned him and clenched his fingers into a fist, trying to calm himself.

For just one moment, he had forgotten there was no home to which he could return. No collection of books to which he could add. And as certain as he felt that Cenric was alive, he had no idea when he would see him again. A familiar regret bloomed inside him, one he was still trying to learn to live with—he’d never told Cenric just how much he had meant to him. Had never asked to take his last name, even though he’d wanted to. He could only hope that his mentor knew without him saying, and for the chance to tell him himself one day.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before stepping away from the table to search for Aeran. His height gave him something of an advantage, as did Aeran’s, and it wasn’t long before he caught sight of a familiar head of sandy brown curls making his way toward him.

Rhys met him in the middle. Aeran smiled warmly at him and pushed something warm, wrapped in paper, into his hand.

“I found dinner. Smells good, doesn’t it?”

It smelled better than good. The combination of spices emanating from the package made his mouth water, and the pang of hunger in his stomach grew sharper. He could not wait to have something warm in his empty stomach after the day they’d had.

Aeran’s smile grew wider, and he turned on his heel to lead them out of the market. Rhys followed, weaving through the crowd on quick, light feet, eager to find somewhere to sit and eat. They emerged on the far side of the courtyard from where they had entered. Not far from here, the landscape sloped gently downward for a way, until it met the shore of the Azure Sea.

Only a few other people had made their way here. They stopped halfway down the slope, where the light from the market just reached them, and dropped their packs and weapons so they could sit comfortably in the grass.

Rhys opened the package and found a wrap of flatbread overflowing with meat and vegetables. Flavors flooded his mouth when he took a bite, and he closed his eyes to savor the taste. He didn’t know when he’d last eaten something so good, so freshly made. As hungry as he was, he wanted to make it last.

Beside him, Aeran snorted. Rhys, mildly embarrassed to be caught savoring the food, elbowed him in the ribs, forgetting that Aeran was on the side of his injured shoulder. He winced, and the smile slid off Aeran’s face, quickly replaced with worry.

“Stop sending me such guilty looks,” Rhys cut in before he could say anything. He raised his flatbread, shaking it between them, and smiled so Aeran would know he truly wasn’t mad. “We’re even now.”

Aeran’s expression wavered, before a small, fond smile broke through. “Whatever you say, Rye.”

They enjoyed the rest of their meal in a companionable silence, the only sounds the distant murmur of the crowd behind them and the gentle crash of waves on the shore. When they’d finished, Rhys said, “I heard there’s going to be a firelight show tonight. Want to stay for it?”

“Firelights? They really go all out for these things,” Aeran said. He shrugged, and tossed a smile Rhys’s way. “Sure, why not?”

The reminder of the teens that had passed him earlier sparked an idea in his mind. He left Aeran on the hill for a moment, and made his way back to the market. The crowd had grown smaller in their absence but there were still quite a few people there, and it took him several minutes to find what he was looking for. When he returned to his seat beside Aeran, he held up the flower-shaped pastry between them to share.

They took turns pulling pieces from the dessert, honey leaving their fingertips sticky. Each piece practically melted in Rhys’s mouth, and when he glanced at Aeran, he wore an expression of pure delight that almost made Rhys smile.

Honey dripped down the paper and onto Rhys’s wrist. He wiped it away, his fingers brushing over the sun tattooed there. Warmth and grief swirled together inside his chest when he looked at it, a bittersweet ache that he knew well. He’d gotten the tattoo with his friends, as a reminder of the first time he had ever seen the Spire, and they’d gotten ones to match. He missed them—his friends, Cenric, the familiarity of his home at the Spire. He dreamed of going back one day, of rebuilding the Order, of reuniting with those he missed. Of remaking a home for them all.

He had never shared any of this with Aeran, who staunchly avoided talking about anything to do with the Spire or the Wayfarer Order. He’d never told Rhys what happened the night the Spire fell, never told him about what he was doing in the years before they reunited in Karth. He hardly ever even talked about Varyn. Who knew what he might say if he knew what Rhys dreamed of doing?

He glanced at Aeran, who was wiping the honey off of his fingers in the grass. Above them, the first round of firelights had started, lighting up the sky with bursts of color. Aeran leaned back on his hands and caught Rhys’s gaze, grinning widely, eyes lit up in amusement.

Rhys had lost so much five years ago, but he still had a friend—a good friend, who he had found again after years apart. Who he laughed with over ridiculous employers and joked with about debts neither of them cared about. Who he traveled town to town with, taking care of each other and watching each other’s back.

He mirrored Aeran’s pose, leaning back on his hands to watch the show. A pleasant rush of fondness and affection passed through him, and he casually bumped his shoulder against Aeran’s, light enough that it didn’t hurt.

He missed the Order. He missed his friends, and his mentor, and his home. He would dream of having those things again one day, and maybe he would get them. But there was still Aeran, and there were still nights like this—the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, sharing a dessert on the beach while firelights burst over their heads. Their friendship could outlast everything they’ve been through and all the secrets between them. And he was nothing but grateful for that.

#wayfarer exchange #wayfarer fic #ahhhh i hope u like it!! i had a lot of fun writing for rhys!!#i want to know all about his friends now too ajsdfgh #kels writes

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