#by people who will never be in the bedroom with me to find out anyway 😌 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notiddygxthgf · 7 months

Text

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

| come over tn?

| i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

| omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes.

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe.

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you.

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him.

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes.

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you.

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark.

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision.

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs.

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze.

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship.

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp.

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here.

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you. Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face.

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue.

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away.

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears.

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit.

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red.

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side.

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination.

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts.

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you.

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass.

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father.

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation.

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him.

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him .

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole.

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion.

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly.

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan.

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!”

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake.

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–”

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle.

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck.

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling.

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there.

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end.

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…”

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend.

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth.

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said, “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke.

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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smileysuh · 2 months

Text

Love Plug

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k

🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕

Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.

Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.

There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.

You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica.

Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?

John: define out. Who is this

Unknown number: shit

Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times

Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n

John: I remember you

John: how much do you need?

Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?

John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour

Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.

When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.

“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”

You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate.

“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”

You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.

You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…

You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.

When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.

John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.

“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.

“Hmm?”

“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”

“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”

John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.

“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.

“Is that a rosé?”

You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”

“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.

John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”

“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”

“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”

“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.

“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”

“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”

“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”

“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.

John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”

“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”

“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion.

Is he asking you out?

Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”

“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”

You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”

The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.

“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.

“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.

“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”

You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”

“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”

So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.

John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.

“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.

“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”

You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.

The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.

“It’s going,” she sighs.

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”

“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”

“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”

“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.

“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”

With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.

The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.

“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”

You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”

Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”

“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”

“After I got over how annoying you are.”

John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”

You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail.

“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.

You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”

“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.

“How about you? He’s a regular?”

“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”

You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-

Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.

“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”

You consider what she’s just said.

“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”

“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”

“Hmm?”

“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”

“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”

Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”

“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”

“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”

“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”

The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies.

“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”

“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”

“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.

“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.”

You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.

“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.

Hyuna scoffs loudly.

“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”

“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.

“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”

“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.

You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”

“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.

“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”

You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”

“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”

“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.

“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”

“Deal.”

John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”

You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”

Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.

It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.

“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.

“What sort of movie?” you ask.

“Anything you want.”

“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”

“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”

“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”

“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”

You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.

“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.

John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.

“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”

John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”

A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.

“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.

“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”

“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket.

“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.

“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.”

“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.

“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” you assure him.

“You guys up to anything fun?”

“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend.

“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently.

Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car.

“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”

You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.

You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”

“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.

You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten.

John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.

You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-

The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.

“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.

“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”

“Bad guy,” you scoff.

“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”

“You’re a softie.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”

“Says me,” you insist.

“Yeah? And how do you figure?”

You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”

You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”

“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”

You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”

He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.

Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious.

“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”

“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”

God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?

“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.

Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.”

“Do you wanna try it?”

The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head.

Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”

He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze.

You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.

You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing.

“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.

This time, he’s kissing you like he means it.

Like he needs it.

His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer.

He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure.

Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.

You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.

“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”

“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.

This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.

You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.

“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”

Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.

Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.

He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed.

His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him.

You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.

Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”

“I’m mostly sober.”

“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”

“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”

“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.

“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.

You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.

“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.

“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”

You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”

“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.

“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.

Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked.

He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.

You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock.

He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum.

He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”

“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”

There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.

As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.

“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit.

You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.

Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.

You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.

It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-

God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.

You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.

You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.

You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”

You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-

“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.

You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless.

Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him.

“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.

“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.

Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”

“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.

“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”

“What if I want you now?”

“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”

“What if I want you to wreck me?”

Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”

You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.”

The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.

“You know what you said earlier?”

He lets out a humming sound.

“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”

“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”

“Next time?” You cock a brow.

“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”

“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”

“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”

“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”

“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.

In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”

“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”

“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision.

“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”

“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

“Should I grab a condom?”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”

You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”

He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”

“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”

“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own.

You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.

Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”

“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”

He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.

“More.”

Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.

You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.

Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Can I-”

“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”

Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.

You’ll never be the same after this.

No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.

Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.

It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.

“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”

“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again.

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”

Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.

“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”

Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles.

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”

“Me!”

“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”

“Me!”

“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.

“I’m gonna-”

“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”

All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.

You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life.

Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.

As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.

He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”

“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt.

Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”

When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him.

You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.

“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”

“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”

“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”

You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked.

Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.

If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.

No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him

You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.

Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.

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2K notes · View notes

ozzgin · 2 months

Note

okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere nerd #yandere loser #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #tw yandere #female reader #obsessive love

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shaisuki · 2 months

Text

SON, YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS CUTE. MIND IF I HAVE A TASTE?

FUSHIGURO TOJI X MEGUMI'S CHUBBY GIRLFRIEND READER

content warnings ─── noncon, drugging, reader is megumi's girlfriend, voyeurism, forced orgasm, thigh fucking, brief daddy kink, somnophilia, pussy eating, megumi and reader in 20s, toji in his 40s.

ᝰ synopsis.ᐟ: in which toji couldn't help but to steal a taste of his son's girlfriend. hope he doesn't find out. poor megumi.

“—gumi... oh fuck...”

he can hear your filthy moans leaking through the crack of his son's bedroom door followed by the breathless whispers and the sound of bed creaking under the weight of you two. he listened for a brief moment before going to his kitchen.

opening the refrigerator and grabbing a water bottle and twisting its cap off then taking a swig from it. toji chuckles at the "study session" you both were doing. ahh, kids these days and his thought goes to you. his son's girlfriend.

he still remembers how you came into his life. his son introducing him to you as a friend but by the looks it's more than of it and you were the first to never ogle at him like he was a piece of meat. there's nothing such as lingering stares, the batting of eyelashes and the seductive voice trying to get him — only a quick bow and an introduction of your name and that's all.

and toji did like that however megumi made clear you were off limits. his son could be so possessive and protective over you and who can blame him — sweet, little like you doesn't know the dangers that lurks at every corner including him and toji has the tendency to fuck who will give him the slightest of interest including you but it still doesn't happen. keeping him at arm's length and that's fine with him — he says but nothing's fine with it.

it is not his business to pry the people his son is dating, he's no different from it. jumping from woman to woman after his wife passed away. he got needs. anyways, his son is old enough to do whatever he pleases and dating is no exception from it and looking at you, his son's relationship with you — it's looking good.

closing back the fridge, in the corner of his sight. he caught the familiar spiky tuft of a hair belonging to his son and you by his side. raising a brow at you two. megumi only gave his father a side glance before escorting you to the door to accompany you in safely going back to your place.

“uhm, thank you for letting me stay fushiguro-san.” you say to him, bowing quickly before following megumi. he only looks at you longer — too close for comfort and noticing his father's gaze at you. megumi glares at the man and toji almost barked a laugh at his son.

don't worry, megumi. i ain't touching your girlfriend but only if she wants too. he wants to say at megumi. their relationship already estranged. well, who could blame his son he wasn't the best of fathers.

then after that, you both were off. the slam of the door being closed briefly echoes in the room and then toji was left on his own. settled in the couch and the television playing his horse races.

“pretty please?” you bat your pretty lashes at him. your eyes getting rounder and wider staring at him with doe eyes of yours and toji isn't so weak at them but gives in. your palms pressed in his chest while your slick covered cunt brushing at his hardened length. “hasn't my boy been treating you well?” he asks. his emerald green eyes similar to his son glints. “no, that's why need you to take care of me.” holding his cheek and leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and then to his jaw and then to his lips. “please, daddy~” you begged in a cute voice that leaves the older in front of you smirking. “if that's my pretty baby wants.” the scar in the corner of his mouth twitching. large palms holding your wide hips slithering to grip your butt cheeks. not breaking eye contact and watch your expression change. chuckling at already your cock drunk face when he plunges his cock inside you. “ah~ yes!” you moaned out. holding his shoulder for balance before shaking your hips to get the best use of your boyfriend's dad cock.

“you're a disgusting one, aren't you?” he mused. cocking his head to examine your once innocent face turning into one of a whore. “moaning like a bitch after taking my cock....is my son really not that good at pleasing you, huh?” a playful chuckle leaving his lips. “nuh uh but not enough, ohh~” kissing his jaw and toji grabs your nape. pulling you into a bruising kiss. his other hand holding your plush waist in tight grip before thrusting his cock violently to your cunt. “oh god, yes! more, more, more!” you screamed pressing your chest against his. your nipples rubbing his pectoral muscles. your cunt spasming around his lenght and your orgasm coming through. “to...oh... ji...mmmm” you moaned out. repeating his name over and over as your orgasm builds up in the pit of your stomach threatening to explode at any given moment and toji, oh he's getting close as well. you got the perfect pussy for him. such a shame his son can't please this slutty pussy of yours. there's a pause in between his growls. fixated on your face turning into an expression of a cock drunk slut while you moan his name. “toji! toji! toji—”

“toji-san?”

the call of his name brought your boyfriend's dad to his not so innocent daydreams. standing in front of him was his son's girlfriend whom he can't stop fucking with his eyes and it didn't get better when you're standing in his doorway with your collarbones displayed in front of him and his sight gets lower he sees the soft swell of your chest and curse the choice of your outfit. a fucking sundress that he's close to nutting in his pants.

“first name basis are we now, sweetheart?” he teases despite the smoldering look he had on you. his sight flicks in to your face. “uhm, sorry for calling you like that.” you apologized. “there's nothing sorry about that, sweetheart.” the nickname you are being called takes you back. your feet taps continuously. a nervous habit you developed. megumi's dad isn't someone you are comfortable with. it doesn't mean you disrespect him but more like you were just intimidated by his father with his muscular build, the scar in his lips moving and his attitude. anyways, you were being polite to him.

“need anything if you're here.” his eyebrows raised at you and the scar in his lips twitch. his body blocking the door. leaning on the door frame posture relaxed and that smug smirk painted in his face.

“i—”

“who's that?” megumi's voice interrupted you. toji glanced behind him and scowled before turning into a neutral expression. moving to reveal you and megumi's stoic features softened.

“just the right time. come.” he said walking towards you and ignoring his father. it was your cue to follow him. “excuse me, toji-san.” bowing your head slightly before discarding your shoes to follow megumi.

toji's sight follows you. pressing a kiss to his son's cheek and returning it by patting your head and kisses your forehead. your cheeks warming up and megumi glances at his father. his scowl deepening and megumi glares at him before taking you to his bedroom.

that little brat. toji thinks but what about it. he was supposedly to support his son's partner not lusting over you but he's a man and it's unfortunate for you for someone like him to take interest.

he slumps in his couch with a groan. annoyed by this carnal urge to just jump on you and make you cum multiple times. he would be better than his son. you will truly be pleased by him. toji plays with his bangs moving it upward to fully see the ceiling above him and ponder about stuff, to you. getting childish of taking his son's happiness for him but how could he resist you. the more you try to pull away from him the more he wishes to get closer to you. you seem to be wary about him and toji can't blame you but that what makes it sweeter. ripe for the picking. always been attracted with the innocent ones and you were not so innocent than you think.

you would be incredibly suited for him. sucking him dry and warming his cock while you sit prettily in his lap watching those races. if he wins he'll fuck you nice and good and if he loses he'll fuck you hard and deny you of release endlessly.

the sound of door opening followed by voices perks him up. “don't you want me to accompany you?” your voice worried and megumi is quick to assure you. “i'll be quick. i'm just picking up the work what kamo finished. wait for me here.” megumi said. quickly to diminish any further worries you have for him. a ghost of a smile in his face before heading to the door.

deciding you can't comeback to his room. you settled in the couch. observing the man in the other couch who's focused with whatever's the television playing and you remained quiet before pulling out your phone to entertain yourself and ignore the awkwardness in the air with your boyfriend's father.

toji stands up making his way to the kitchen but before that he stands behind where you are seated. “what you want to drink, sweetheart?” he offers. the deep rumble of his voice startling you that you almost jumped from your seat.

“water would be fine, sir.” you politely replied and your phone dings. alarming you of a message and toji gets a glimpse of the message.

megumi: i apologize, got dragged by itadori. i'll be back in an hour.

you frown before typing a quick reply and toji continued his way to the kitchen. taking a can of beer in his fridge and pouring you a glass of water. whistling casually as he easily crushed the white, little, round shaped pills before mixing it to your drink. his eyes boring holes in the glass as the pills turned powdered mixes in the water. he grabs the glass and handed it to you.

“here you go, sweetheart.” you naively accepts the glass of water cause it's just water right. a regular water used for drinking.

toji settles in the couch. popping the beer can before taking a swig. discreetly taking a glance at you and following your move. he watches you put your cellphone before taking a sip and then another sip and bingo. placing the glass in the coffee table. watch as you blink. sleepiness taking over you with a confused look in your face and then you were passed out on his couch. sleeping soundly without a cry. finally, toji thought as his plans came into fruition.

toji ignores the television playing. standing up to examine your sleeping figure. you won't make a peep at your current situation. “come on now, sleeping beauty.” he coos. scooping you up in his arms. the back of your knees hooked in his arm while the other supports your back.

“there we go.” he mutters. peering at you through his bangs and toji couldn't deny how pretty you look in his arms. your soft features only for him to ogle at. toji never expected he would be attracted to you despite your heavier physique and being his son's girlfriend. toji would never in a million years would go someone for like you but his son got a good taste in choosing partners in which he took the liberty of pleasing them in bed. they showed interest first, he just returned the favor. to you he needs to work and it's not you'll find out.

he kicks the door open and closes it with his foot before placing you to his bed. he sits beside you. his added weight made the bed creak slightly. admiring your features and running his knuckles in your face. starting from your forehead and then to the side of your face and your round cheek and his thumb swiping your soft lips. such tenderness present in his touches if only it was for his good intentions but toji have so much stored for you.

toji realizing for a minute that the gesture he just had done to you wasn't even bestowed to his wife and only you had experienced such softness in him. that still wouldn't justify what he is about to do with you.

he leans down. the proximity of his face and yours are closer. his breath fanning to your cheek. moving to your neck while he kiss that tender spot he knew that you would like and so he was rewarded a soft sigh in response and a sly smirk graced toji's lips.

so you like that, eh. he moves towards to your pulse point. nose brushing and pressing another kiss again. licking on the tender spot and another soft moan emits from your lips and toji wonders if you can make the same noise again if his lips would kiss your other parts...

the time didn't bother him when he slowly undresses you. beginning to lower the straps of your sundress and pulling it down in your chest area until you were bare in front of him minus your underwear. your bra holding your soft breasts and that cute panties you're wearing is already damp.

he began to kiss your chest, his lips stopping in your stomach to nibble the flesh there. sucking and trapping it between his teeth before reaching to your fat mound. his breathing getting shallow, once he smells you. almost drooling at the sight of your pussy lips inviting him to take a taste. he presses his nose to your pussy still protected by your panties.

the sudden contact made your body involuntarily jump and toji had to hold your thick thighs to stop your drugged body to stop squirming.

his eyes almost roll when his brain registered the scent of your pussy. inhaling your scent through the pesky fabric and toji moves your panties aside. admiring your fat pussy and he can see the cute clit of yours throb and slick is already dripping from your aching hole.

he raises your thigh to place in his shoulder. rubbing the soft flesh in his cheek and bestowing a chaste kiss to it before sucking the flesh. careful not to leave any marks that will reveal of the unwanted deed he had done. you remain still. motionless aside from the sudden jerk of your body responding to his physical exertions to your body.

“you're dripping wet for me, darling.”he mutters. his eyes half-lidded and a nonchalant chuckle spills in his lips. staring at your fat pussy waiting to be taken care by him.

“now, now. daddy's taking care of you.” he says. pulling your panties down and putting it aside. spreading your pussy lips before taking a lick. toji groans at your taste. “no wonder that brat's pussydrunk.” diving back again to your slick cunt getting wetter the more his tongue flicks up and down. catching the wetness with his tongue and although involuntarily your body began to react with his licks.

toji buries his face in between your legs deeper. wanting to get more of that goodness being produced by your sweet cunt. if he'd known sooner, he would have taken you away from his son and make you his. warms his bed and your mouth ready for fucking and this fat pussy of yours, wet and warm to nest his cock inside you.

you remain asleep. your chest fluttering in response to the pleasure of your cunt being licked. it's almost making out with your pussy from how toji frantically catches the drops of your arousal. the translucent wetness settling in his tongue that will sure linger in his mouth for days.

your boyfriend's father begin to ponder. how long it has been since he'd gone down on someone. clearly, it was that long that he can't even remember and you coming to the pictures and with the opportunity of being able to taste you. it tells him to get back at it with an exception. you're the only one who can receive it. such a shame you're sedated. he's quite curious of what sounds you can produce from him fucking your brains out. you're not the screamer, he knows that. it's not the first time he had catched you and his son being frisky but he's sure he can bring the noises you never knew existed.

your legs shakes in his shoulders, a sign of your impending orgasm and your wetness in his tongue increasing that he had to swallow and slurp that goodness coming from you. his tongue flicking back and forth to your folds and sucking your cute little clit. he proves that he still is the expert of making someone cum with his tongue and he's not rusty like he thinks he is.

“good girl.” he praises you as he detaches his mouth to your fat cunt. licking his lips to brush the remnants of your cum that is coating his lips.

his emerald eyes staring at your body. asleep and snoring softly. your chest getting back to it's regular rhythm after being bestowed by an orgasm that a father could give to his son's girlfriend.

he contemplates for a bit if he should fuck you but what about when you wake up. he's sure there would be the familiar sting in between your legs and he doesn't know if you have his son the consent of allowing him to touch you while asleep. that would be a problem. should he use your mouth? ah, clearly not. his sight darts to your thighs and it's going to be good like your hole. that's settled then.

he hoists your legs up. grabbing your ankles as he leaves a trail of kisses in your chunky calves. he's already rock hard and his cock is uncomfortably pressing in his boxers. he tugs his pants down followed by his boxers. his burly cock slapping in his abdomen. its tip red and angry. pre-cum already beading in the tip and toji groans. spitting in his palm to lubricate your thighs before putting his cock in.

“needs to get your thighs lubricated, princess.” the rough and calloused texture of his palm rubbing through your inner thighs. after getting your thighs wet and lubricated. he slowly slides his cock and there's a deep rumble coming from his throat similar to a growl.

“s—shit!” he curses out. feeling the sparks of desire moving upwards to his cock and to the pit of his stomach. if your thick thighs is already this good, how could it be much better if he's going to fuck your pussy. he keeps your thighs together. slowly thrusting his burly cock between your creamy thighs. reveling in the softness of your flesh and how his cock is being squeezed by this heavenly goodness. he should steal you from megumi now. he could sacrifice his relationship with his son for this body of yours.

fuck!

he promised to himself that he would not leave any evidence of your body being touched by him, however his resolve dissolves as the minute goes by. what once and steady pace he's going now isn't going to cut it.

he hugs your legs. his hips speeding up to slam his cock to your thighs faster. he's going rougher and deeper that his balls slaps to the back of your thighs. his muscular thighs also adding the obscene sound of skin being slapped together. the sound echoing in his bedroom and he's sure it can be heard outside. he didn't care though. he's close. ready to burst his seed at any moment.

his semen trickling down your thighs as it's being milked everytime it disappears in between your thighs. although he's working through his orgasm, toji is mesmerized from how your body moves. imitating his thrusts as your body jiggles. the layers of stomach are turning into ripples as his rough thrusts turns to be harsher than the last. you're still sleeping soundly though.

his hips stutter, before slamming with a brutal strength. growling as he released buckets of cums in your thighs. spilling in your thighs and watch droplets of his cum stain your dress and decorating your round stomach. that was fucking intense. the best of thigh fucking he ever experienced and he can't wait to pound your poor, fat pussy until you cry.

he puts your legs down and he takes a moment to memorize your every inch of your body until his gaze landed in your face. he's glad you didn't wake up or else there would be trouble. he fixes himself before going to his bedstand. grabbing the box of tissues and wiping your thighs clean and to your stomach. what a waste. he thinks to himself. he could be pablo picasso or some shit from how he painted your body with his cum.

he tugs the hem of your dress and puts your panty. pressing a kiss to your fat mound and with that he carries you back to the couch and pretends he didn't taste and fucked his son's girlfriend's thighs.

just as he's about to settle in his couch. the door swung open. his brat, bored as ever in his expression. softening as his gaze meeting his girlfriend sleeping on the couch.

he ignores his son and pretends he's focused on the television while takes a drink from his beer like he didn't experienced the best sex of his life although it's just your thighs. it won't be too long before he can bed you. he just have to be patient for now.

you wake up to the scent of megumi's cologne. your head on his lap as you clear the fog in your head. blinking softly as you adjust your sight to your surroundings.

“megumi?” your boyfriend hums. caressing your cheek and the first thing you noticed when you moved is how your thighs felt sticky. you're confused did megumi touched you while you're asleep in his dad's couch?

“did you—” megumi's brows furrows in confusion and seeing the look in his face. you shaked your head. “nevermind.”

“you fell asleep.” megumi commented. “i don't remember falling asleep.” you shrugged as you eyed the glass of water resting in the coffee table.

“stay the night.” he muttered and you nod. sitting up to get closer to him and megumi wraps around your soft middle. almost sitting in his lap before pressing a kiss to his cheek. your boyfriend returning it to your forehead. not minding that his father is only a few seats apart.

he wouldn't admit it but seeing you lovey-dovey and shit with his son, he's jealous. what is he? a fucking teenager? it almost puts a damp in his mood but who cares he almost fucked his son's girlfriend and won't be too long before he can do it again minus the sedatives. get a taste of his cock and you're leaving his son in a heartbeat despite the loyalty shit you have for him.

glancing, a smirk dances in his lips. he just have to wait again to get a taste of you again.

a good father he is.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #toji x reader #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji smut

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hobie-enthusiast · 10 months

Note

ALEX I JUST HAD AN IDEA...

so you know how spidey sense like, lets the spider know that there's a danger nearby before it gets to them? what if there was a spidey sense but for like, not danger. yk. like. LIKE...

i imagined hobie sitting by himself somewhere, not really paying attention? and then he gets this feeling that envelopes him whole and gives him the warm fuzzies and makes him smile, and he doesn't get what it is until his s/o comes up behind him and hugs him from behind, or like slaps his shoulders trying to scare him and he just wuvs them so much

im so soft you made me soft for hobie look what you've done!!!!

- your friendly neighborhood 🕷️ anon [ idc if emoji anons are so last year im spider anon now >:) ]

THAT FUNNY FEELING !

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— fluff, just straight fluff, hobie being so in love its crazy, petnames and lots more fluff

— hobie's spider-senses were giving him a new sensation, but he couldn't really put his finger on what it was

— ANON THIS IS SO ADORABLE MUWAH! ALSO EMOJI ANONS ON TOP I LOVE IT

Hobie had been getting a new warm feeling that he didn't understand.

It happened whenever he was at peace. There was never any danger near him or around him. He could be sitting there, minding his business, only for this warm feeling to engulf his entire body. His mind draws blank as it’s engulfed with that damn fuzzy feeling.

He could never say he hates it though. It reminds him of you.

It comes at him whenever he’s somewhere with you. Whether the two of you are just hanging out, winning a battle, or walking around, he’s randomly hit with a wave of a good-feeling. One that stays with him for a small while, that feels like happiness spreading through his body.

That's how he mentally connected it to you. Of course, he didn't think for a while you truly were the cause. Not until recently.

You practically begged him to come over, to take the day off from being Spider-man and hang out with you. Hobie always had a hard time saying no to you, so he agreed.

You were out at the local shoppe by this point, so he let himself in (with the spare key you gave him of course). He looked to find ways to entertain himself, settling on strumming his guitar. He kicked his feet onto your bed as he lied back in your desk chair.

After a small while, he started getting that feeling again. That fuzzy one that engulfs him entirely, making him feel good. He glances up to look around, but sees nothing. He found it odd, but maybe it meant you were back home?

Nah, he was kidding himself. The connection was probably just in his head.

—

You place your groceries on the counter, ears picking up the sound of a guitar playing. You smile to yourself. Of course you know who the culprit was. He had a key because of you anyways.

Slowly, you creep up to your bedroom, carefully cracking the door. You keep quiet as you admire your boyfriend from afar. He seemed so relaxed, which wasn't usual for him.

Hobie deserved some peace and relaxation after saving so many people. You seemed to be the only one who truly thought that. Miguel didn't see it that way. The criminals among New York didn't understand that. And even Hobie himself didn't think he deserved a break for doing what he's supposed to.

So watching him so.. unaware for once truly was a sight.

You enter the room as quietly as possible, creeping up behind him to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

When you crept up, Hobie was engulfed by that feeling again. A warm smile crosses his face when he feels you lean against him, laughing in his shoulder.

"There ya are." He said with a small laugh. "I had a feelin' you were home."

You raise an eyebrow, smile never faltering. "What? No you didn't! You were so unaware when I snuck up behind you!"

Hobie raises his eyebrows, the feeling slowly fading from his body. So he was right! That warm and euphoric feeling did come from you, his lover. No one else could make him feel that way, not even close.

"Oooh, does the tingle work even for me?" You ask in an excited tone.

"The.. tingle?"

You nod happily, moving so you sit on the bed by his legs. "Yeah! You know, the thing you use to sense danger."

God Hobie found you so.. mesmorizing. Your truly somewhat childish nature that wasn't that but close, he loved it.

"Nah, only works for danger, love." He responds, looking down and strumming his guitar.

"Then you can't sense me! I'm like a ninja. This is perfect." You say, standing and grabbing Hobie's arm. "C'mon, I have some groceries for dinner."

He nodded and stood, guitar on the bed as he followed you to the kitchen. Of course he was going to keep the sensation a secret. He wanted to keep that for himself, a way you make him feel. And besides, what's the harming in letting you think that you could sneak up on him?

It could bring more heartfelt moments like that.

—

Ever since then, Hobie pretended to be blissfully unaware.

He pretended like he couldn't feel you sneaking up on him to scare him. He pretended he never knew you were right behind him, waiting for him to see you. He pretended like he didn't expect your "unexpected" or "surprise" hugs.

Because honestly, he loved you. Hobie loved these little things, even if it sounded weird in itself. He loved having a partner who was always catching him off-guard with affection, even if he was sensing it.

There are random times when the two of you are just sitting together, each one doing a separate activity. He would be on his guitar and you would be catching up on your latest game or book.

Then, that feeling would hit Hobie. He would feel the fuzies he felt from before, and a smile graces his face. It prompts him to move to hug you from behind, nuzzling his head into your shoulder or neck.

When you question him, "What are you doing, love?"

He just sighs, smile never leaving his face. "Just love ya, so damn much sweetheart."

Certainly enough to make your heart melt and cheeks go red. You always found these moments slightly odd, however. He initiated those moments whenever you planned to try and scare him or give him your own surprise hug.

He always beat you to it. Not that you could complain, oh no. If anything, you welcome this with open arms.

You had a slight feeling that Hobie wasn't being entirely honest when he said he truly never knew when you were behind him. Hobie was always aware of his surroundings. But that didn't make you think for too long. You chalked it up to Hobie just letting his guard down around you, and that made you feel nice.

This new sense of Hobie's was his personal favourite, one that he's glad comes from you, the very person he loves and appreciates so so dearly.

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv hobie

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currently-reading-a-book · 30 days

Text

Faux Love, Real Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer must pose as a couple for a mission. However, one question remains: why does he keep calling you 'love'?

Genre: smut

Warning: talking about a criminal case, making out, fake dating (let me know if I forgot something)

Word Count: 882 words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

You blushed yesterday, you blushed today and you most definitely will blush tomorrow. You simply will never get used to his soft voice whispering: “Sorry, love.”

As he calmly brushes past you. You will never get used to his rough hands brushing against your skin from time to time. You will never get used to his soft backrubs or his light kisses against your forehead. Perhaps it’s better this way. If you’re used to his permanent presence your heart would break into two when this mission ends. When all of this ends. Every day you’re hoping that the mission is continued another day, just to be with him. And for a certain time, it did work; until it didn’t anymore.

For more than a year, you have been working in the Behavioral Unit (BAU) department of the FBI. As an aspiring Agent, you are willing to do anything to save people. The team welcomed you warmly, always helping you where they could since you were the youngest member. You feel safe because you know they will always have your back. Yet nothing could have prepared you for your latest mission. The mission where you and Spencer had to fake a romantic relationship. Spencer was a good boyfriend; a fake one sadly.

This unsub is targeting young couples, so the team decided you and Spencer would be the best ones to fit his victimology. Quickly you move into a fake house that isn’t yours; drive a fake car and act like a fake couple deeply in love with each other.

“Are you ready to go to bed, darling?”, shouted Spencer down from your shared bedroom.

It was a comfortable room with a carpeted floor and a large king-size bed. Oh, how you loved this bed; nevertheless, nothing compares to sleeping beside Spencer. Your sleep quality improving enormously. Maybe Spencer has to do with it...

Without answering you went up, already in your pyjamas ready to get a good night’s sleep in. Today you search through lots of recordings in hopes of finding a lead in the case; Spencer of course helping you, but how could anybody read faster than Reid himself? You collapse onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. The slender nerdy boy, with his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, is deeply engrossed in his book. Every now and then, he looks up from his reading, his bright eyes shining with a gentle smile that warms your heart.

“You must be absolutely tired, love.”

“God, yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. A strange silence surrounded them.

“Come here,” he opened his arms gesturing her to come closer.

She found herself in a state of confusion, uncertain of what to do next. As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards Reid's comforting presence. She knew that cuddling with him would be unprofessional, but his warm embrace felt like a safe haven that she longed to be in. The conflicting thoughts in her mind left her feeling torn and indecisive, so she stayed where she was.

Since she didn’t come closer, he decided to drew closer to her. His hot breath tickled her neck as he whispered against her ears sending shivers down her spine: "You know we have to act like a real couple, you want to catch this unsub, don’t you?”

She gulped silently. Of course, she wanted to catch this motherfucker who’s been killing around D.C., however, all she could think right now was how close Spencer was and how his hot breath felt amazing against her neck.

“Spencer…,” was the only thing she could whisper back.

His hands grip her waist lovingly, bringing her closer to him.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured against her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.

Another gulp. Feeling hot all over her body, you tried to think a straight thought, but how can you think rationally when a hot FBI agent's body is nearly pressed against yours? Particularly Spencers hot body.

“Kiss me, Spencer.”

Without a second of hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. Like a starved man, his kiss was impatient and rough, in contrast to the delicate touch of his hands all over your body. You could feel his warm big hands exploring every inch of your body. Oh, how good it felt.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this since day one,” he cursed against your lips before softly biting them. His tongue teased your lips, wanting to enter your mouth. Gently you open your lips and your and his tongue dance together. His soft lips moved their way down to your jaw, then your neck where they stayed for a bit, nibbling at your flesh. You reached for his curls, gripping them which he responded with a moan.

“If I had to act like this stupid fake couple thing again I would absolutely, do it, just to taste your sweet lips, love.” He smiled against your neck.

“Wait,” you pushed him a bit away from you, “you don’t enjoy this fake dating?”

He took a deep breath. Panic started washing over you. Of course, he wouldn't like your back, what do you think?

"No". His angelic voice brought you back from your negative thoughts: “I would like more if we were dating real.”

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smutstevington · 8 months

Text

Resensitized | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You need a place to move in, and your new friend has a spare room. Turns out, he's a porn star, and now you can't stop thinking about him. What ever will you do?

Part 2 here and part 3 here :)

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: MINORS DNI PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING, smut, Pornstar!Eddie x fem reader (no defining characteristics or use of y/n), modern day, friends to lovers...kind of? Fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, the knee thing™️, Eddie is a soft dom but also a simp, reader is his exception, and they were roommates(!)

A/N: I'm baaaaack! I was randomly inspired by this concept and couldn't stop thinking about it until it was done. Please know I wrote this with as much respect to sex work as I could, but there might be some inaccuracies just because I'm not too familiar with the industry nowadays. Until next time! xx

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

You met Eddie at a party. He was a friend of a friend’s plus one, so he didn’t really know anybody, and you noticed nobody was talking to him, so you went over there and struck up a conversation.

Eddie was sweet. Eddie was goofy. Eddie was a little rough around the edges, but ultimately gave you good vibes. You ended up talking to him for quite a while, and when the night came to an end, you realized you didn’t want to stop talking to him.

It wasn’t, like, a crush thing - although, he was handsome and definitely crush material - it was more that it was hard making friends as an adult, and you liked being around him. So many times, you’d met people and left them just as fast, and you didn’t want that to happen with Eddie.

You gave him your Instagram, which he followed, and then you requested to follow him back, which he accepted.

You didn’t talk much for a month or two. He didn’t really post anything, but would comment or react to your posts and stories. Most often, you complained about your living situation - your landlord and your roommates were awful, and eventually your lease came to an end. You jokingly posted - “who’s gonna help me find a new apartment?”

Eddie replied - I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I might be able to help.

It turned out that Eddie had a room vacant in his two-bedroom apartment. The idea seemed kind of out there at first, but you realized it wasn’t much different than searching for roommates online. Besides, this was safer, since you knew Eddie already, and you couldn’t afford an apartment by yourself, so…

You went over to look at his place, and holy shit. It was incredible there. Clean, although slightly cluttered with his various belongings - movie posters, music, video games, and the like. Also, the rent he was asking for was absurdly low. It felt like a no-brainer.

“Eddie, this is - I mean, this is perfect,” you told him. He grinned.

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Uhh, there’s just one thing I feel like I should tell you before you move in.”

“What is it?” you asked. Suddenly, you saw Eddie get nervous, and you couldn’t possibly predict what would warrant that reaction. He took a deep breath.

“Maybe you already know, but it feels like you don’t know? So I just - ugh. If you don’t know, I think I gotta tell you.” You stared at him, confused.

“Eddie, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

He smirked slightly, then sighed as his hands fell to his sides.

“I…do…porn?” he said at last. You stared at him blankly as you processed this.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” you replied. “Like OnlyFans?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “Look, I - I’ve done it for a few years, and I guess I’m kinda popular. It’s why a lot of the time, people stay away from me, because it puts them off. Or, they’re embarrassed about recognizing me, which I guess I understand. But anyway, that’s why I was surprised you never said anything or asked me about it. Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you had no idea.”

Huh.

“I…really didn’t.”

It wasn’t that you were judging him - not at all - but living with someone who did that sort of thing brought up all kinds of questions. Eddie’s anxiety returned.

“Ah, shit. That ruined everything, didn’t it?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I just - It’s how I make money, but it’s not my whole life or anything. But I felt like you should at least know about it if you were gonna live with me.”

“Do you do any of it here?” you asked. Eddie shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

You nodded slowly.

“Like, in the living room or just your room?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to assess how you felt through your line of questioning.

“Uhh - my room. I mean, I guess there was one time on the couch, but for the record I’ve gotten a new couch since then. Oh, and if you move in and don’t want me filming anything here, I won’t. Not even solo stuff. Shit. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, I just have a pretty casual view on sex and I kind of forget that not everybody -”

“I think I’m okay with this,” you decided.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You looked around the beautiful apartment that would save you a crap ton of money, and you realized you couldn't pass this up. Besides, you weren’t a prude. “My last roommates had loud sex all the time, and our walls were so thin it felt like I was intruding, somehow.” Eddie laughed, his anxiety easing slightly. “Plus, I don’t care what you do. I bet it’s good money. As long as I’m not in any of the videos, we’re good to go.”

“Wow,” he responded, stunned. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be so cool about it.” You shrugged.

“Just don’t eat my food and we should be fine,” you concluded.

“Deal,” he replied. You shook his hand, and thus began your time as Eddie Munson’s roommate.

Ohhhh, this was a mistake.

Living with Eddie was a total breeze for the first two months. He was respectful and didn’t talk about work at all unless you asked him about it, which you didn’t. You both were pretty busy people so you didn’t even see each other that often.

But then, two months in, you got curious and watched one of his videos.

Holy. Shit.

First of all, you couldn’t believe you’d never stumbled across him before in your searches, because he was, like, really popular. He’d undersold himself, for sure. Although, you didn’t watch porn that often (you preferred reading it or listening to it), because usually there was something off about it. Like, the women felt like they were acting, or they weren’t even trying to hide that they were acting and were really bad at it, or the dirty talk was weird, etc etc.

Eddie’s videos were not like that.

(Yeah, after the first one you watched a few more).

Look, the man knew what he was doing. He had chemistry with everyone, and something about it was captivating. It’s not like you were getting off to them - that would have been weird - but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you the fuck on.

He hadn’t been lying either about the locations. None of the videos you’d watched were recorded at the apartment.

You weren’t sure if you would have cared if they had been, though. Like, as long as any shared furniture was cleaned after, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Pretty much every couch anywhere you go has been used for sex at some point. So, this wasn’t much different.

Anyway, watching Eddie’s videos had been a mistake, because now when you saw him in the morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee in his robe, you knew what he looked like naked.

Fuck.

“Morning,” he said casually. “Want some?” You nodded, and then he took another mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it for you. When you went to the kitchen counter to grab it from him, his knuckles brushed yours, and you jumped a little at the touch. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. You went to the fridge and took the creamer from the shelf, then topped off your coffee with it.

“How’d you sleep?” you asked.

“Good,” he replied. “Oh, so I’m going to the grocery store in a bit. You need anything?” You took a sip of your coffee before answering.

“Uhhh, yeah, but I was actually planning on going myself,” you said.

“We could go together,” he suggested.

You took another sip of coffee as a way to stall, even though it was too hot. You had no reason from his perspective to say no - the two of you had gone on errands together a few times, and it had been fine. Besides, you legitimately had to go to the grocery store, so if you said no and went later it would just look suspicious.

”Sounds good,” you agreed with a smile. He smiled back, then nodded.

“Great, just let me know when you’re ready.”

You finished your coffee in your room, because being around him was making you nervous. It was so dumb, feeling this way. Nothing had changed. You were the same people you’d been yesterday. Watching that video was an incredibly poor choice, but at the same time, how were you supposed to refrain? You lived with a guy who was famous for getting women off. You wondered how you hadn’t known any of this when you’d first met him, but then pieces came together. The reason he was alone at the party. Why his Instagram was private. Why he didn’t have a roommate.

When you agreed to move in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be weird about it, and now here you were, hiding in your room because you were too awkward to maintain small talk with your roommate.

Eventually, you got dressed and psyched yourself up for what was to come. You just had to get those videos out of your mind, that’s all.

Easy enough, right?

Wrong!

“Did you listen to the song I sent you yesterday?” he asked as you walked to the car.

“Uh, no, not yet,” you replied. He clutched his heart as if you had broken it, then laughed.

“Okay, well then I guess I know what we’re listening to on the way.”

Once again, all of this should have been easy like it always was. But you couldn’t stop staring at his hands on the steering wheel, the rings on his fingers, and - God forbid - his lips. And his eyes? Forget it.

“Good song,” you said, staring straight ahead at the road.

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he teased. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral vision. “Everything okay? You’re quiet today.”

“Everything’s fine,” you blurted out, maybe too quickly to be convincing.

“Ooookay,” he responded. “Well, I don’t believe you, but you can keep your secrets.”

You remained slightly awkward and flustered around him, particularly any time he touched you. He’d tap you on the shoulder to get your attention, or reach across you to grab a bunch of bananas that you were standing in front of, and it came to a point where you told him you had to go off on your own to grab something just because you knew you were totally giving yourself away. But after a few more minutes to yourself in the chips aisle, you felt relatively normal again.

Disaster only really struck on the way home.

“So, this tattoo place on the right,” he said. “That’s where I usually go. The guy who works there is incredible. His designs are sick as hell.”

“How many do you have?” you asked. He scrunched his eyebrows as he thought about it.

“I guess it depends on what you’d count as one,” he replied. “Like, I have almost a half-sleeve on my right arm, but I didn’t get it all done at once.”

“Count them however you’d like.” He thought about it some more, then shrugged.

“I have a lot of them, and I always want more.”

“I’ve heard it’s addictive,” you replied. “So, what would you get next?”

“I’m thinking about adding to the one on my thigh,” he answered.

“The witch?” you asked. He raised his eyebrows. The tattoo on his thigh was pretty iconic, actually. It was a woman on a broomstick with her tits out. Not something you would ever personally get, but Eddie pulled it off. “Are you going to give her a friend? Or a bra?”

Eddie snorted laughing, then covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle it. It didn’t work, and he burst into laughter again.

“Come on, my joke wasn’t that funny,” you said, rolling your eyes. Eddie’s laughter finally faded enough for him to explain.

“I never told you what the tattoo was,” he informed you. Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake.

“I - um -”

“That’s what’s going on! You looked me up!” he exclaimed. Despite your absolute humiliation, he seemed to only find it amusing. “Don’t get all shy about it. It’s fine. I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.”

“Can we not talk about it?” you asked, trying to awkwardly laugh with him but mostly wishing you were six feet underground.

“Whatever you want, roomie,” he replied with a grin. “I’m just glad I didn’t do anything wrong.” You bit your lip, then released it.

“No, you did pretty much everything exactly right,” you responded, deciding to lean into the awkward situation. Eddie licked his lips and smirked.

“Good to hear,” he said, smug. He pulled into your apartment complex, parked the car, and took the keys from the ignition. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in there, so you rushed out of the car and made a beeline for your front door as soon as you were able. He caught up as you worked the lock open, and you could feel his eyes on your shaking hands. “You know, you’re cute when you blush,” he said.

The door unlocked and you pushed it open, but it’s not like the apartment you shared with him was going to be any less charged. You tried to continue acting less nervous than you were.

“Oh, you’re flirting with me now?” you teased, leaving your keys on the counter. His voice continued behind you.

“I flirt with everyone,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll reel it in. Just, we were talking about -”

“No, I know,” you interrupted. You turned around, deciding to face this situation head on, since you were already knee-deep in it anyway. “Okay, let’s talk about it.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“About what I do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright. What do you wanna know?”

You took a deep breath and asked something that you’d been wondering for the last two months.

“Is it weird, knowing that most people you know have seen you naked?”

Eddie didn’t seem fazed by the question in the slightest - not that you expected him to be. He shrugged.

“I like the way I look,” he replied. “It actually doesn’t bother me at all.” You clicked your tongue to your teeth and asked another question.

“Does anything about it bother you?” To your surprise, he took the question seriously, taking his time as he came up with a response.

“It definitely feels like I live in a different world a lot of the time,” he answered. “Like, I go to work, I meet the person I’m supposed to fuck, and then I do whatever I gotta do to get them off. That’s all it is, really. After a while, it just feels like going through the motions. The excitement isn’t really there anymore. On the other hand, I make a shit ton of money to have sex with beautiful people, so…”

You tried to ignore the way the heat rose to your cheeks as he talked about work. From what you’d seen, it was clear that not one person had faked their enjoyment for him. Of course, it made you a little curious what it would be like, but not curious enough to do anything about it.

At least, not yet.

“You’ve never, like, caught feelings?” you asked. “Or maybe gotten coffee with one of them? Wait, do you ever have sex off camera?”

“Wooow, you’ve really been thinking about this, huh?” he teased, jumping up to sit on the counter beside you. Being next to him was starting to feel comfortable again, now that you were speaking freely. “Uhh, well for starters, I don’t have sex off-camera very often, honestly. My job doesn’t make it that easy to date. And yeah, I’ve met up with partners after if I feel like we’d get along, but I don’t know. It always feels more like friendship than anything else.” You cocked your head curiously.

“But you had sex with them,” you pointed out, confused.

“You’ve never fucked one of your friends before?” he asked. You shook your head. “Oh. Well, like I said, my perception of this kind of thing is a little skewed.”

You nodded slowly, then realized those were all of your main questions. Talking about it actually did make things a whole lot better.

“Thank you for being so open about it,” you told him.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he replied. “And seriously, you can ask me anything. Or, we can never talk about it again. Up to you.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

He went off to do his thing and you did yours, and that was that. Things went back to normal again, more or less - at least for another week.

The problem was, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. When you were trying to sleep at night, your curiosity coursed through you to search his name again, and it became increasingly difficult not to succumb to it. You didn’t want to cross that line, though. It felt like a necessary boundary to have.

Instead, you did what you usually did. You read, you listened, you pictured things in your head.

Your mind always wandered to your roommate anyway.

One night, Eddie had left, and he was supposed to be gone until morning. You used it as an opportunity to walk around naked, watch romantic comedies on the couch, and listen to music he’d hate as loudly as you wanted. It was glorious.

You were in your room dancing in a t-shirt and underwear, and it was turning out to be an excellent night. Eventually, your friend called, so you chatted with her for a bit on speaker phone as you put away your laundry. Naturally, Eddie came up.

“Okay,” she said. “There’s a really simple solution here, and it’s to fuck your hot Sex-God of a roommate.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not simple, and it’s not a solution,” you replied. “And our relationship isn’t like that. I can’t believe you looked him up.”

“Of course I looked him up! One of us had to!” your friend shouted back. “And, can I just say - damn.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you responded with a sigh. “I’m just trying to be…respectful.”

“It sounds like he doesn’t care at all,” your friend noted. “But I get it, I guess. You’re a lot stronger than I’ll ever be.” You laughed.

“Thank you, I think I deserve a medal for going through this while also not having had sex in six months.”

“Absolutely,” your friend agreed. “Alright, girlie, I’m headed to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up the phone and hung a few sweaters up in your closet, then walked into the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. The problem was, when you got there, you realized that Eddie had beat you to it.

“Want something?” he asked, bent over into the fridge.

“Fuck!” you yelled, jumping back. “What are you -? Why are you - ? When did you -?” Eddie laughed and grabbed two beers from the fridge, then closed the door and handed you one.

“Relax,” he said. “My plans fell through so I came home early. I like your pants, by the way.” You looked down at yourself to realize you weren’t wearing any. You chuckled, then pushed him away from you.

“Dick,” you said, cracking the can open. He did the same, and then you clinked your beers together before each taking a sip. “Thank god I’m wearing some clothes. I wasn’t a few hours ago.”

“That’s hot,” he teased.

“Shut up.” You turned to go back to your room so you could put real pajamas on, and were confused when he followed you in.

“Your friend has a point by the way,” Eddie said. You froze in your tracks, then pivoted to face him.

“What?” you asked, your stomach dropping to the floor. “Wait, how much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Uhhh, well I definitely heard that whole last part about me,” he replied. “Six months, by the way? I agree, you do deserve an award for that.”

Jesus Christ.

“Oh my God I have to move out,” you said. Eddie laughed, then pulled you closer to him by the wrist. You felt your breath hitch at being so close to him. Your eyes met his, and you immediately felt hypnotized.

“Listen,” he said, his grip on your wrist burning into your skin. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but six months is a long time, and I could help out if you wanted.”

“Eddie, are you seriously suggesting…?” The corner of his lip twitched up slightly.

“It wouldn’t mean anything, obviously. I just know you’re curious, and since you’re going through a dry spell or whatever I could be of service. And then it would be out of the way, and you could move on.”

You stared at him, having a million thoughts at once.

Yes, you wanted that very much. The thought of it alone was already making your core ache and throb for him. You knew he would blow your mind, and it had been so long…

Then again, you also knew it was a horrible idea. You both lived together, and having sex would complicate things. Most of all, you knew that - despite what he was saying - it would mean something, and you wouldn’t move on. He could, but you couldn’t. That’s not how it worked for you.

“I can’t,” you said. He nodded and dropped your hand.

“Alright,” he replied casually. “Then you should go fuck someone else so you stop thinking about me.”

“I’m not thinking about -”

“Good night,” he smirked.

He left your room, and you heard him walk to his own room and shut the door.

He was probably right. You needed to break your dry spell. So, you did what any sensible person would do and re-downloaded Tinder. By the following night, you’d found a suitable guy to hook up with.

You invited him to your apartment instead of going to his, because it felt safer. And Eddie unshockingly had no problems with it, so that wasn’t an issue. He said he was going to stay in his room and listen to music, and to just text him when you were done.

So…you did that.

The sex was bad. Like, remarkably bad. The man clearly had relied on his good looks and big dick and felt like that was enough. The worst part was that he thought he was nailing it the whole time. He was only over for about 45 minutes total, after which you told him you had to get to bed. He seemed disappointed, but also he’d just had sex so he wasn’t too bummed about it.

You texted Eddie, and within a few minutes you heard his door open and his footsteps approaching your room from down the hall.

“Damn, he’s gone already?” he teased, staring out the window to see your Tinder hook-up driving away. “That’s a shame. I wanted to meet the man that caused you to do the worst fake orgasm sounds I’ve ever heard.”

“Eddie!” you yelled, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself. “You said you wouldn’t listen!”

“I got curious! Sue me!” he shouted back. “Now we’re even. Curiosity got the best of both of us.”

You stared at him for a moment, then realized he was right. You sighed.

“Fine,” you said. “Thanks for recommending I do that, by the way. Now my body count is higher and my dignity is shattered.” Eddie laughed.

“Body counts are bullshit anyway,” he replied. “Sorry he couldn’t get you there.”

“Guys usually can’t,” you told him. Which was true - you mainly could only come using toys, and most guys seemed intimidated at the idea of using them. Like it was emasculating or something.

“I bet I could,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“I bet you could, too,” you agreed. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Have fun,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the bathroom.

Showering did clear your mind a bit, but made you no less sexually frustrated. You tried to touch yourself, but weren’t getting anywhere, so you just got yourself clean instead. You put a fresh pair of underwear on and wrapped your robe around yourself, then headed back to your room.

Eddie was right beside your door - leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He eyed you up and down, then took a step towards you.

“I have a question,” he said.

“Um, okay.”

“Have you ever gotten off to my videos?”

He asked it so casually, you needed a minute to even comprehend what he was saying, and even longer to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“Eddie, what the hell?” you replied. You tried to maintain your composure, but your attempts were futile. Especially when he looked at you like that.

“I’ve just been wondering,” he continued. “Curiosity, that’s all.” You swallowed.

“Not to any of your videos,” you answered.

“To the thought of me?”

Yes. Not intentionally, but yes.

Your breathing became shaky, his words enough to get you worked up again.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft.

“I’m helping you out,” he responded. “Salvaging your night.” He hooked his finger into the tie around your waist, then tugged you even closer to him. “I mean, if you want me to. The offer is there.”

Fuck it. You were tired of fighting your attraction to him. You nodded.

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s just get it over with.” He smiled. “How do we start? Should I lie down? Is there anything off limits? What do I-”

“Don’t think about it,” he said, answering your line of questioning by silencing you. “Get on the bed.” He let go of you so you could walk into your room and follow his orders. You watched him rub his hands together and crack his knuckles as if he was getting ready to go to work - which made sense, all things considered. Then, he followed your footsteps to your bed and made his way towards you until he was settled beside you.

His hand trailed up your body until it settled in your hair. He gripped it tightly so he could angle your head to the side, then leaned over and pressed light kisses to your neck that sent shivers down your spine.

“Do you like things on the gentle side or more rough?” he asked against your skin.

“Healthy mix of both,” you answered. He hummed in approval, then licked a stripe up your neck until his lips were to your ear.

“Talk to me during, okay?” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

Okay, this was officially worth it no matter the consequences.

“I like what you’re doing,” you responded. You felt his mouth return to where it had been before, except this time he found a sensitive spot and sucked on it. You gasped, so he did it again, harder.

“Hickies?” he asked.

“I’d rather not have them, but also please don’t stop,” you muttered. Your eyes fluttered closed as you enjoyed the sensations. His lips were soft but firm, and every point of contact with him felt like it was on fire.

“I can work with that.”

While he continued kissing and nipping at your neck, his hand left your hair to snake down and pull the tie on your robe until it was undone.

You expected him to take your robe off like he was unwrapping a gift - quickly and without precision - but instead he took his time with you. He was slow and deliberate with every action, opening you beneath him little by little and addressing each new exposed part of you before moving on and continuing. He groped at one of your breasts while kissing you, then kissed down your neck and to your other breast. His lips settled on your left nipple while his fingers worked the right one - pinching, sucking, biting, driving you absolutely crazy.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “N-need more.” He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop.

“More what?”

“Everything,” you whined. You would have been embarrassed by how into this you were, but you were too busy enjoying to feel anything other than pleasure. “More. Harder.”

“Mmm,” he said. He adjusted his technique, now grasping at you more intensely. He grabbed the soft skin at your waist and squeezed, then curled around to cradle your lower back. His lips returned to your neck, and this time he bit and sucked so hard you let out a yelp.

“Too much?” he asked, leaning back to gauge the look on your face.

“No,” you responded. “I love it.” He nodded and got back to it, continuing to suck at your pulse point while his knee dipped between your thighs to push them apart. He bent his leg to slowly drag his knee up until it reached your center. It rubbed against you, hard, causing you to let out a gasp.

“Oh, shit,” you said, your voice desperate. “Do that again.” So he did, and then you found yourself grinding against his knee at your own pace. You were definitely going to leave a wet spot on his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. Your breathing picked up, and you clutched at his hand so you could lead it to the band of your panties. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric and down your slit, spreading you open and exploring the parts of you most slick with desire. He circled your clit while he kissed your collarbone, slipped one finger inside you as he bit at your breast, then added a second finger and rolled them inside you until they found the soft, spongy spot that caused your eyes to roll back in your head. His mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue circling it in time with his thumb down below. You rocked your hips against his hand, needing more pressure. You needed him to fuck you, actually, but he seemed to be in no rush of doing so.

Your stomach tightened as you felt yourself rising for him. He was going to make you come already, when he hadn’t even been touching you for that long.

Suddenly, you were cresting over the edge. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to prepare or warn Eddie, although he seemed to know it was happening before you did.

You gasped and moaned and cried out his name, your vision completely blacked out. Your hips continued to buck and your legs started shaking. Eventually, the waves crashed and you were centered in your body again.

“Okay, wow,” you said breathlessly.

“That was too easy,” he responded. You scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah, you win,” you replied. “You’re just as amazing in bed as you look like you would be-”

“No,” he continued. “I mean - that was too easy, and I like a challenge, so I’m gonna see how many times I can make you do that.”

Within seconds, he was making his way down your body, pulling your underwear off of you, grabbing your ankles, and tugging your body towards him. He laid your legs on either side of his shoulders and dove his head between your thighs, kissing the spot that was still extremely sensitive. It was overstimulating, but felt so good you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop. He ate you out like he was poisoned and you were the antidote. He plunged his tongue into your hole as his hands spread you apart as far as you’d go. He kissed back up to your clit and settled there, teeth latching around it gently. Then, his fingers slid back inside you, and he continued to suck on you, and somehow you were already going to come again. One of your hands found purchase in his hair, and you pulled his head against you even more. The other hand clutched the sheets beside you desperately, crumpling them into a fist as you unraveled against his mouth.

You hadn’t even realized how tightly your thighs were clenching around his head until you released him, but he didn’t move from where he’d been. He continued finger-fucking you and flicking his tongue side to side against your clit all the way through your orgasm and beyond. There was no recovery period or moment of relaxation. It hurt to have him there, a little bit, but not in a bad way. He bit at the fleshy part of your thigh so he had a second to catch his breath, but kept kissing you everywhere he had access and treating your body like it was his most precious belonging.

Because in that moment, you did belong to him.

Your third orgasm immediately followed the second. It was like he was destroying you - breaking down every wall you’d ever put up leaving you an absolute mess underneath him. His motions slowed, ever in tune with your body. It was like he could read your mind.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. He sat up straight and removed his fingers from you, immediately putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “You’re really good at that.” He grinned, his mouth and chin shining.

“It’s my favorite part,” he replied. “Are you tapping out?”

“No, I -” Your head was spinning, but you absolutely did not want this to stop. “I just need a minute.” He chuckled, wiped his mouth, then pressed a quick kiss to your ankle. He moved your legs off him and back onto the bed, and then he laid down beside you and joined you in staring at the ceiling.

“So,” he said, his hands clasped on his stomach. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you replied. Your gaze traveled down his stomach to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “So, oral really does it for you, huh?” Eddie turned to see your eyes fixed on his crotch. He exhaled sharply - the start of a laugh - then nodded.

“Yeah. I’m good at it and I like it. But, I don’t know whether I’m good at it because I like it or if I like it because I’m good at it.”

“A real chicken versus egg kind of thing,” you said. He laughed.

“Exactly.”

“What else do you like?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He seemed genuinely confused by the question.

“I mean, what else do you like? Not considering your partner’s pleasure, just your own.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we’re about to have sex,” you replied.

“Are we?” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“Answer me,” you told him. “I want it to be good for you, too.”

“But that wasn’t the deal,” he countered, sitting up. “I’m doing this for you, not me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” He still looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense at all. “Eddie, come on. Just tell me what you like. You’ve never been shy about sex stuff in the past, clearly -”

“I like being bit,” he answered quickly. “Especially on the neck and lips. And, like, the crook of my elbow for some reason?” You nodded, urging him to continue. He sighed, then laid back down beside you. “I like the idea of someone using me just to get off - degradation, treating me like I’m nothing, all that jazz.”

“The idea of it?” you repeated, turning on your side to face him. “You’ve never tried it?”

“Not really,” he responded. “I’m kinda known for the soft-dom thing I have going on, so that’s usually what I end up doing.”

“Hmm.” You thought about his answer in the silence that followed, until he spoke again.

“You know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“Nobody’s really asked me that before.”

You looked at him, completely baffled at the situation. This poor man had only focused on his partners this whole time. No wonder he’d grown jaded to it.

“It’s been a minute,” you said. “I think I’m ready to keep going.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You could visibly see him shift back into work-mode. His eyes lit up and focused in on you again, and his hands went to his belt buckle to unfasten it. You sat up and kneeled on the bed, then helped him take his pants and boxers off and tossed them to the floor. You shimmied your robe off your shoulders and let that fall to the floor as well. He sat up in the bed with his back to the headboard so he could take his shirt off, and now you were both completely naked.

Woah.

You stared at his body, mesmerized by all the ink in his skin. You traced a finger delicately over the tattoos on his chest, shoulders, and forearms. He watched you appreciatively, a soft smile on his face, his expression peaceful. You reached over to your bedside table drawer and grabbed a condom from the box you kept there.

Then, you straddled him.

“Hey, wait -” he said. “Look, I know what you wanna do for me, but it’s probably not gonna happen. Like, I don’t usually come from sex unless I help myself out.”

You kind of saw that in one of the videos. He’d been going with this one woman for like a half hour straight and nothing.

“I want to try,” you told him. He still didn’t look convinced. “Come on, you think only porn stars are good in bed?”

“I just don’t want you to feel bad if -”

You leaned in and kissed him, hungrily, your hands tangling in his hair. Yeah, he’d taken care of you, but you were far from satiated. You wanted him badly, and you wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made you feel.

You could still taste yourself on his swollen lips, and that’s when you realized the two of you had never actually kissed before. You broke from him, concerned that you’d crossed a line.

“Sorry, I should have asked if kissing is okay first -”

He was kissing you again before you could even get your sentence out. His arms went around your waist, hugging you tightly until your chest was against his. You tugged on his hair, hard, and felt him smirk against your lips.

He was growing impossibly hard beneath you, which only encouraged you to keep going.

You clawed against his back and his mouth opened up for you. You used this as an opportunity to suck his bottom lip into your mouth before biting it.

He whimpered, which was just about the hottest sound you’d ever heard.

Your mouth traveled down his jaw and to his neck, where you gave him the same treatment he’d given you.

“Careful,” he managed to say (though his voice was weak). “I can’t be marked up for work.” You nodded, then grazed your teeth across his skin. He gasped, the grip of his hands tightening on your waist. You kissed him and bit him and sucked him on both sides of his neck, leaving no spot behind and making sure you didn’t stay in one place for too long. Eventually, you felt yourself craving him again - this time, you wanted all of him.

Your hips rocked against his erection, and you knew it was game over the moment his bare cock slid up your folds. You moaned, then reached for the condom beside you so he could put it on. You shifted yourself a bit further down on his lap as he rolled it down his length, and then your eyes caught the tattoo on his thigh that started this whole thing - the witch, in all her glory.

“She’s looking right at it,” you said, your eyes fixed to the design. Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, uhh -” he began, flustered. “It’s her - shit, okay - it’s supposed to be a joke where she’s looking at my dick because my dick is a magic wand, but that’s dorky as shit so usually when people ask I just joke that it’s because she’s a voyeur.” You smiled, then shook your head.

“So, why tell me the truth then?” you asked. “What makes me different?” You looked at his blown out pupils, deep brown and infinite, and wondered why you’d spent so much time trying not to look into them. Maybe because now that you’d done it, you weren’t sure you could ever stop.

“I don’t know,” Eddie answered. “I don’t know why you’re different.”

You maintained eye contact as you lifted yourself up and lined his cock with your entrance, and then you slowly let him sink into you.

Oh.

The immediate stretch was incredible. Eddie was well-endowed and thick, and it was going to take a little work to fit him completely inside you. You started slowly, lifting yourself up and down - all the while, your eyes stayed fixed to his.

His hand snaked between you to rub your clit slowly, getting you wetter and allowing you to accommodate his size better. You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself, then began bouncing at a faster pace.

You kissed his forehead, the sweat on his brow leaving your lips slightly salty. Then, you kissed the spot right next to his eyes, his cheek, his jaw, before finally reaching his lips again.

Hungry. That was the best word to describe it. It felt like the two of you had each never wanted anything more in your lives as much as you wanted each other. He bottomed out inside you, and you began to lift yourself up and crash back down, slowly, but with force.

“Faster,” he muttered. “Please, faster.” His voice was breathy and weak. A part of you wanted to tease him more - you wanted to drive him crazy and then watch him explode, just as he’d done to you. But the other part of you wanted exactly what he wanted, so you obliged.

You started to ride him faster, rolling your hips in such a way where he was hitting the spot inside you that made you scream his name and pull his hair without abandon. He continued to work your clit until - somehow - you felt yourself building up to yet another orgasm.

“Fuck,” you whined, continuing to fuck him exactly as you’d been doing. “I’m gonna come again.”

He whimpered your name, and then his words became incomprehensible. But you wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway, because pretty soon you were coming so hard you were transported through space and time. Seriously, the feeling was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. He was taking up all the space in your body and your mind.

“You’re so good, Eddie,” you said. Your words were muffled against his mouth, but you knew he understood them. “So fucking good.”

Your motions slowed down, and you started to make your way back to the room. He was staring at you, his eyes no longer piercing. They were soft and vulnerable instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t -”

“That one was for me,” you interrupted. “This next one's for you.”

“What-?”

Your lips crashed into his again. You’d gotten your fill - more than your fill, actually - and now you just had one goal.

Make Eddie Munson come.

Easy enough, you figured. He’d given you more than enough clues to tell you how. With his dick still deep inside you, you kissed down his neck to his shoulder, then lifted his arm so you could make your way to the crook of his elbow. You sucked at the tender, sensitive skin. His eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. You smirked, then dropped his arm and promptly fucked him as fast and rough as you possibly could.

Eddie threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning and grunting and continuing to talk under his breath - only this time you were able to understand some of it.

“Holy fucking shit…Jesus Christ…Just like that…”

Most of it was curse words.

His fingers dug into your ass as he guided your hips exactly the way he needed them to go, and then all of a sudden he was twitching beneath you, his hands flexing, his jaw dropped. He desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone and breasts, holding you flush to him as you milked him for all he was worth.

His breathing slowed, his face still buried in your tits. Finally, he leaned back so he could look up at you. You smiled and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just kissed you instead - this time lightly and without urgency behind it.

You let him slip out of you, then collapsed beside him, completely blissed out. He stayed seated and upright, although he did take the condom off and dropped it in the trash next to the bed. His eyes had turned pensive, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“No,” he replied, staring straight ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He shrugged.

“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I felt like that.” You cocked your head in confusion.

“And that’s a problem?” you wondered. You maybe would have freaked out had you not just had four orgasms - Instead, you were just concerned.

“I don’t know.”

His head turned until you could see his expression fully, and you noticed there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“Um, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.

“Yeah.” He grabbed your hand and took a deep breath. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

(Part 2)

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

Feel free to make requests in the comments, through DM, or using my taglist! In the meantime, check out my the masterlist on my main account where I post non-smut content :)

@welc0me-t0-hellfire @nope-thanks @names-were-taken @teary-eyed-egg @mvnsonluver @msgexymunson @micheledawn1975 @mimsthebannished @joantje @mrsjellymunson @oh-my-grace @libbyhermione @agrownupgeekgirl @vintagehellfire @spikedhe4rt @stardustingold @bebe07011 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tlclick73 @astridflowers @whisteriaremembers @martaboj92 @the-side-blog777 @demeterlindavis @starheartseddie

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader

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worldlxvlys · 6 days

Note

I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)

yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk

Anyways that's all 💋

we can’t be friends

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing

a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt

i hope you enjoy

i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.

of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.

for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.

i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.

but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.

i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?

so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.

i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.

sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.

i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.

i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.

i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.

we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.

“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.

his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.

“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.

“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”

“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.

“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.

“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”

he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.

“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”

“i just can’t be friends with you”

“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.

“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”

“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.

“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”

“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.

“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.

“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.

my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.

“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.

i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”

he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.

i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”

he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.

the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.

“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”

“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”

chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.

“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.

one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.

he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.

this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.

but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.

“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.

“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.

he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.

i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.

i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.

“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.

he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.

he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.

“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.

“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.

he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.

his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.

he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.

“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.

“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.

“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.

i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.

chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.

“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.

“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.

“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.

“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.

finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.

he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.

my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.

the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.

the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.

my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.

there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.

he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.

he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.

“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.

“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.

“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.

“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.

“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.

“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.

“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.

“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.

“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.

“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.

“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.

the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.

“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.

“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.

“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.

“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”

wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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bonesandchalamet · 4 months

Text

in this world, it’s just us — Finnick odair

masterlist | pairing: Finnick odair x reader

summary: in a world where hunger games don’t exist anymore it’s just you and Finnick

warnings: fluff

a/n: finally writing for finnick 🤭

you can hear his breath escape his lips, it’s faint, but it’s all that matters. he’s alive in your arms and in your bedroom.

nights were never the same, consisting of some form of him muttering incoherent words, legs thrashing, and thick sweat glistening against the sheets. the hunger games haunt him, even in a world where he’s safe.

there’s no president snow, there’s no more kids being hunted by others. the odds were in everyone’s favor, and people could sleep well again. except those in their respected districts victors villages.

the soft grunt that escapes his lips indicates he’s awake now. he rolls carefully onto his side, almost like he doesn’t want wake you, but you’ve been awake for some time. reflecting on what the nights could’ve been if finnick never was picked at such a young age.

“you’re doing it again.” he mutters, you feel him shift closer to you, his warm clammy skin pressed against yours, “you’re thinking about the if’s.”

he tsk’s you, and yanks the covers off your bodies to reveal the cool air of the house. it feels nice, after tossing and turning in the heat trapped sheets, you allow yourself to stretch out against the mattress and watch finnick rise for the day.

no day was ever the same, but finnick needed a new task everyday, or else he’d go insane. he needed to occupy himself from the loss and maybe even the ache. you never knew, he was a closed book about his experiences.

you watch him gather around to fish, a typical morning routine despite the overflowing amount of food in your house. you never objected or asked him not to go, it was the one thing finnick enjoyed and he could now do so freely. who were you to stop him?

“can I join you?” the words slip your mouth without a second guess, and he’s stopping in his tracks. you’ve never taken up much of an interest in fishing, not since you didn’t have to do so anymore, but you loathed sitting around waiting for him to return. plus, it gave you something to do as well.

“you better hurry.”

scurrying out of bed, you find yourself rushing with the sunrise and finnicks personal clock, but by the time you’re down by the water, no one else is even there and the sun is just starting to rise.

“what’s the plan?” you ask, turning to face him he’s got a trident in his hand, his typical choice of weapon that somehow made it back to district four along with him.

“we hunt, we go home, and then we eat.” he says offering a small smile before moving carefully and slowly into the water. he moves with such precision, careful not to alarm the fish. any movement and they’ll scatter along. you watch him hunt for awhile until it’s your turn, you don’t come up as lucky as he does, but he still applauds the three fish you killed.

“now we eat and save some for dinner.” he smiles, content with the couple hours of work done. without telling, it’s most likely noon and your stomach was reminding you of the lack of food in your stomach.

the hike home doesn’t take long and Finnick is cooking while you shower. the warm water trickles down your back, soothing away the morning worries. you take longer than you normally do, just to enjoy the silence your mind finally gives you before turning off the water.

emerging from the shower, he’s leaning in the doorway. a cocky smile against his lips that if it weren’t for his beauty, you’d attempt anyway to erase it.

“you think about me in there?”

“never in a million years would I think about you in my shower.” you pick up a soft towel, running the fabric all across your body and through the ends of your hair. out the corner of your eye, you can still see that smile. the smile that every girl falls for when finnick would enter a room. he’s easy to like, bright eyes, beautiful smile, golden blond hair, and an ego so big sometimes it’s adorable, other times? not so much.

“you’re awful at lying. it’s actually one of your worst traits.”

“and you’ve got an awfully big ego, it’s one of your worst traits.” you fire back with a smile on your face leaving him to roll his eyes and tell you lunch was waiting for you.

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair blurb #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair fic #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x y/n #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games fic #the hunger games blurb

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starryeyedjanai · 6 months

Text

@eddiemonth prompt: magnetic | kinktober prompt: sex toys sex shop worker eddie ficlet | rated: mature | read on ao3

Eddie's a little bored.

Applying to work at a sex shop was thrilling when he first thought about it - it felt a little risqué, helping people find cool new ways to have fun in the bedroom and having little anecdotes to come home and tell Chrissy or the band about.

But sometimes it's just really fucking boring actually.

Checking people out is still just checking people out like he would at a grocery store - with the sometimes added detriment of them being super weird or embarrassed to be buying whatever they're buying, some guys getting aggressive or defensive about their purchases.

And restocking shelves is still just restocking shelves regardless of the fact that he's putting dildos on the shelf instead of something else.

It's slow in the mornings on the weekdays that he typically works, and today, his coworker called out so that makes it even worse.

The best, or most entertaining, part of the job is observing people shop and trying to guess what they're gonna buy based on appearance alone. When he has coworkers working alongside him, they always play this game and see how close they get.

But today, he's alone and bored out of his fucking mind.

He's restocking some lube just to be doing something when the bell over the door dings, letting him know a customer just walked into the shop - the first one of the day.

He keeps shelving the lube from the box in his hands and hears the customer approach after a minute. He's expecting them to either try and get his attention or to retreat to a part of the store where there are no employees - people are sometimes weird about being perceived in a sex shop even if it's by the people who work there.

Instead he hears a voice he hasn't heard in years, a voice attached to a face that still haunts his dreams - his first crush, his longest lasting crush, inopportune as it was considering it was on one of the most popular guys at his school.

He hears Steve fucking Harrington's voice say, "Uh, 'scuse me, just need to grab this," and a hand - one veiny, hairy hand - reaches by him to grab one of the bottles of lube he just placed on the shelf.

Eddie looks over his shoulder and - god, Steve is just as devastating now as he was in high school, his hair tousled and perfect, his pretty face dotted with moles that Eddie wants to map out with his tongue.

Steve smiles and nods at him in acknowledgment and moves along to whatever his next item is, leaving Eddie to spiral in his thoughts as he moves to the cash register to ready himself for whatever items Stevie-boy brings up to the counter.

In his many, many fantasies about him, he never really struck Eddie as someone who bought or used sex toys.

The rumors in high school would have him believe Steve's a god in bed without the assistance of toys anyway. It's been years since they graduated, so maybe he's expanded his horizons or his girlfriend is into them or something.

Or maybe he's delving into kink the way straight boys sometimes do. Walking into a sex shop like they own it, thinking that buying a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and a bullet vibrator makes them the pinnacle of BDSM, a dom who doesn't even know what half the letters in that acronym stand for.

He's going through what Steve could be looking at based on where he sees him in the store on the antiquated security cam feed on the computer. He doesn't seem to be looking at the wall of BDSM for dummies in any case.

He got the lube Eddie was shelving- a water based one. And he's in the anal toys corner of the store.

Well, he'll be damned. Either Steve has a girlfriend who wants to try anal and he's looking for a beginning plug set to help her along or he wants to try anal.

Interesting.

The Steve Harrington of Hawkins High in Bumfuck, Indiana probably wouldn't have been caught dead in a sex shop and here he is, some odd years later, looking at butt plugs and flared vibrating dildos from what Eddie can tell from the grainy video feed.

He almost wants to go over and see if he can help him, learn more about what he's looking for, but hearing what his old crush gets up to in bed might spark a whole new set of fantasies for Eddie to revisit and can't put himself through that.

Especially with this new image of Steve he has in his head - the same lips he's fantasized about kissing a million times before, but on a face that's only gotten better with age. He's lost some of the softness in his face, his jaw strong and still so pretty to look at.

He was magnetic in high school, drawing Eddie's eye every time he walked into a room, his embarrassing crush making him glare at him more than anything, but now? Looking the way he looks now? He's a goddamn force of gravity and Eddie wants to get pulled into his orbit.

He wants to strike up a conversation, wants to talk to him, but he doesn't think he could handle walking up to Steve and learning what he likes in bed, so he just waits for him to get done shopping and watches him walk up to the counter.

Steve sets the items down on the counter and Eddie looks down at them, feeling a flare of heat spread through his body at the items before him.

"Hey, I know you from high school. Munson, right?" Steve asks, pulling Eddie out of his stupor.

"Yeah, uh, hey. Steve. I- Eddie," he says intelligently.

"Right," Steve says, pushing the lube forward trying to prompt Eddie into action.

He grabs the lube and can't seem to help himself when he says, "You know, this dildo isn't really for beginners. Unless you know what you're doing and have a ton of patience and, well- you are buying lube, so that's good-"

"I'm. Not a beginner," Steve says, interrupting Eddie's spiel.

"You- what?" Eddie asks, his brain still a little fried from seeing Steve fuckin' Harrington walk up to the counter with two bottles of lube - he went back for a second - and an anal dildo with a girth that's not dissimilar to Eddie's fucking fist.

"I'm definitely not a beginner. That's kind of a rude assumption, don't you think? Aren't you supposed to be impartial to what customers buy?" Steve asks, the grin on his face betraying the words coming out of his mouth.

"Uh, fuck. Fuck. I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't have said anything," Eddie says, cringing at himself. He normally wouldn't have said anything, but then again, he normally isn't face to face with the guy he's had more fantasies about than he can count.

"It's fine. I mean, you knew me in high school and that guy wouldn't have any clue what to do with this," Steve says, gesturing to the box with the dildo in it on the counter. "Luckily I'm not that guy anymore."

"Yeah, lucky," Eddie says wearily, grabbing the box and scanning it.

He wants to ask, 'So you know what to do with it now?' and then 'would you want to show me?' But both of those things would be wholly inappropriate to ask a customer so he clamps his mouth firmly shut, rolling his lips between his teeth.

The look on Steve's face says he knows what Eddie's thinking even without him saying it - the small smirk on his lips when Eddie looks up after finishing ringing him up is annoyingly attractive.

He tells him his total, running on autopilot and trying so hard not to think about Steve straddling the dildo he's bagging up for him and sinking down on it, eyes rolling back at the stretch. Fuck.

Steve hands him his card and Eddie swipes it and waits for the receipt to print before he hands it back to him along with his receipt.

Eddie's opening his mouth and putting his foot directly in it again when he says, "Good luck with your, uh. Jesus christ - please ignore me. I seem to have forgotten my brain to mouth filter at home today."

Steve laughs and asks, "Do you have a pen?"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie says, fumbling with the pen beside the register before holding it out for Steve. Their fingers brush as Steve takes it from him.

He turns the receipt over and writes something down on the back of it. He slides both the receipt and the pen back across the counter.

He says, "You seem like you might need some lessons in keeping quiet instead of running your mouth. I have a few gags that you might like. If you're interested."

Eddie's mouth drops open and Steve smirks at him. He grabs his bag from the counter and taps his knuckles against the counter.

"See you around, Eddie Munson," he says, walking away. He turns around when he gets to the door and finds Eddie still gawking at him. He waves at him and Eddie, in his stupor, manages to wave back.

Steve pushes the door open and leaves, the bell dinging again.

Eddie wheezes out the breath he was holding. He looks down at the receipt and finds a number scrawled on it.

He scrambles to pull his phone out and enters the number into his contacts.

He texts the contact saved as STEVE FUCKEN HARRINGTON 🍆🥵🔥 immediately, not giving a damn about how down bad that might make him look.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #eddiemonthafterdark #steddie ficlet #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve x eddie #janai.doc

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namfinessed · 1 year

Text

so close - m.yg.

genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance (13.5k)

summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fic in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.

note: writing after so long felt liberating, i hope you feel through my words.

this one is dedicated to my soulmate, @hopefuldreamlove

masterlist

“you know what? i’m done, i’m fucking done with your nonsense, i hope this stupid roof falls on your head!” your screams bounced off the walls loudly as you dragged your bags to the front door, you no longer recognized yourself.

when had it become this bad?

“i hope so too, at least that way i don’t have to hear you scream like a banshee on drugs, just get the fuck out already” yoongi huffs as he matches your vicious tone, but his chest tugs at him, begging him to move and stop you before it was too late, before you actually left and never came back. but his pride was stronger, he wasn’t going to beg you to stay, he was stubborn enough to pretend this didn’t affect him at all.

you don’t respond or even turn back to look at him one last time, you slam the door and trudge your luggage impatiently to the elevator.

yoongi couldn’t move, he watched the front door with pursed lips, he couldn’t believe that after all this time, this was how you two were going down.

he should’ve stopped you; he shakes his head at himself, he shouldn’t have even let the fight get so far, he should’ve stopped the second your voice wavered with unshed tears halfway through the argument but he didn’t, he waited for those tears to turn into simmering anger and yoongi didn’t do anything to make you stay. as always.

that was why you fought in the first place because yoongi had seemingly given up on putting any effort into your relationship.

halfway through the parking lot, you pulled your suitcases behind you with heavy steps, letting out puffs of breath with furrowed eyebrows, and then you paused. your heel stuttering as you narrowed your eyes, your hands loosened around the handles of your bags.

why should you leave?

you both were still owners of that apartment, both of you paid the rent and if you left now, you don’t even have a place to stay and you didn’t want to inconvenience your friends because yoongi was being an asshole, you also didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding a new apartment when you had a perfectly available one right above you (with three bedrooms!).

you smiled wickedly, if yoongi thought he was getting rid of you this easily, he was dead wrong because now, you were determined to make his life hell by living right next to his door and doing everything you could to make him uncomfortable.

yoongi didn’t hate a lot of things, but his personal space was always important to him and you were determined to make that space as worse as it could get and if he had a problem, he could always leave and find another place, he had the money to buy another apartment anyway.

with that happy revenge plan, you walked back to the elevator with a bounce on your step, you couldn’t wait to make yoongi’s life miserable.

yoongi, on the other hand, had been watching the clock since you walked away, it took every fiber of his pride to keep himself on that couch and not run after you but eventually, he knew that he needed you, he couldn’t ignore his sinking chest forever, so he ran to get his car keys, begging and praying silently that you hadn’t gone too far.

he reached for his phone as he made his way to the door, already texting your friends to see if you had gone to them.

imagine his surprise when you slam the door open just as his hand moves towards the door handle, he jumps back with a pounding heart and a rush of emotions fills him.

a mix of relief, remnants of his previous frustration, pure joy, and cockiness fill him as he sees you back in your home, his hands almost grab you into a hug but instead clench into fists and tighten beside his body.

“missed me already?” his lips curl into a smirk and your glare hardens, but you give him the sweetest smile in return, and yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

you looked furious when you left so, yoongi didn’t understand the smile on your face even if his heart jumped at the smile he hadn’t seen for a while now.

“don’t flatter yourself, min yoongi, i’m not back for you, i’m back for my apartment” you sing to him as you purposefully shove his shoulder on your way in, even running your suitcase on his toes accidentally as you walk past.

he winces and curls to grab his stinging foot, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” yoongi growls, any idea of needing you had left him swiftly as his anger returned with a vengeance.

“oops, sorry, didn’t see your foot there” you tried not to snicker as you said but you still had that shit-eating grin on your face and yoongi huffed, annoyance filling his every crevice.

“okay, what are you doing back here? i clearly remember you hoping that this roof falls on my head, did you come back for it to fall on yours too?” yoongi followed you as you walked to the guest bedroom, his footsteps speeding up to catch your pace but you remained one step ahead.

“you mean, what am i doing in my house? i don’t know yoongi, what do people do in their houses?” your voice was sickeningly sweet and yoongi ran a hand across his face in exasperation, “this is our house, can you stop being sarcastic for one minute and give me a straight answer?”

“as far as i remember and you are free to correct me, both of our names are on the lease, making both of us rightful owners, why would i go anywhere else when i have a home right here?” you level your glare with him as he stares back with an unreadable expression, “are you doing this just to be petty?” yoongi thought you had come back for him but now knowing that you didn’t, filled his chest with a bitter, ugly feeling.

“i have no idea what you are talking about, i am just choosing to live in my house” you shrug your shoulders as you put your clothes into the guest room’s closet, yoongi looks away with furrowed eyebrows, “stop calling it your house, it is our house” your hand paused at the longing in his voice but remembering all the nights you went to bed crying because of him, pushed you to just keep arranging your things.

“it is mine and yours, not ours,” you concluded and yoongi tried to shake off how heavy your words made him feel, “besides, i won’t even be bothering you anymore, think of us as roommates and nothing more until i find a new place.”

“roommates?”

“roommates.”

“you are going to find a new place?” yoongi asks, shifting on his feet, it was strange to see you occupying a different part of the house.

“of course, why would i stay here with you for longer than required?” you planned to just ruin his life for a little while and then leave to a place where you could finally breathe.

you just staying here would ruin it enough, you thought.

“you shouldn’t even be staying here right now” he bit back, masking the ache in his heart with insults he normally wouldn’t even think of uttering but that confirmed it for you that your decision to stay bothered him and that satiated your petty heart.

“if you have a problem with me staying, you can leave and find a new place” you gave him a large, sarcastic grin and yoongi’s eyes further narrowed on you. “i don’t give a fuck about you staying or leaving, just stay out of my way” yoongi mumbled and slammed the guest door shut.

you rolled your eyes as you continued shoving your belongings in place, you couldn’t wait for this lease to be over, just as much as he did.

the lease was supposed to be renewed after three months and you were hoping to find a place by then because as much as you taunted yoongi, you were planning to move out the next chance you get because you couldn’t stay around him and hate yourself for liking him still.

you spent the first two weeks, mostly staying out of home, you couldn’t stand seeing him working all day, even at home. that was why you two had fought and ultimately broken up over, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were hurt that he didn’t even try to change his ways.

your eyes glared at the eggs sizzling in the pan sitting in front of you as your hands tightened impossibly around the spatula you held.

were you supposed to cook eggs with a spatula?

were the eggs supposed to look that dark in color?

was whatever you’re holding, even a spatula?

your head tilted in confusion as you tried to rake your brain for things you learned from cooking shows and let out a sigh of frustration as the eggs you flipped had smoke coming out of them.

you never had to worry about cooking, as busy as yoongi got, he always made sure you at least had leftovers to heat up before he left for work but you would rather plunge yourself on a bed of legos than ask him to make your food.

besides, you could do this yourself, you have done much more difficult things than this in life, a couple of eggs and bread weren’t going to be that hard.

“are you seriously using a scooper?” you heard a low, groggy voice from across the room and you sucked in a breath, face heating up in embarrassment.

so, you weren’t using a spatula after all.

you stiffly nodded and yoongi snickered, “if you need a ride to the hospital after eating whatever you made, i will be happy to take you.”

you turned around with an annoyed huff, “as if you have time for anything besides being holed up in your studio, i will die before you even come and get me.” yoongi’s jaw tightened as you pointed your spatula (scooper) at him, and then, he released a long breath as another grin graced his face, “so, you agree? you agree that you will end up in the hospital after eating this?”

“even if i do, i don’t see how it’s any of your goddamn business, min yoongi, just make your fucking breakfast and don’t be such an insufferable roommate” maybe your words were harsher than needed, but you couldn’t stand being around him and not hurt him, as he had hurt you over the course of the past few weeks.

yoongi didn’t retaliate which only made you feel worse, but you held your chin high in defiance of your own guilt as he did exactly as you told, he kept quiet and made his breakfast.

and of course, he made a huge spread of everything from bagels to smoothies to chocolate pancakes, he put them right in front of you as he sat on the opposite side of the long island table as you stared down at your burnt eggs and bread with a clenched jaw.

for yoongi, work could wait right now but annoying you couldn’t.

“i hope you enjoy your breakfast, y/n, if you can call it that” yoongi gave you his brightest smile yet, the stretch on his face covering the otherwise sarcastic tone “because i know i will enjoy mine” he finished by shoving a forkful of the cream cheese and chicken bagel that he knows is your favorite. he knows how much you loved it when he made it for you after a night full of love and attention.

you glare at him with annoyance crawling up your arms and legs as he lets out a moan of approval at the bite, obviously putting on a show to piss you off more, your mouth waters involuntarily as he chews slowly with nods and loud hums of satisfaction but what finally drives you mad, is when he lifts his head from eating and gives you a cheeky wink.

your hands gripping the table's edge turn white as you forcedly push your body away from the table, abandoning your sad excuse of breakfast and stomping out of the room.

you hate that you can hear yoongi’s sinister laughter even after you slam your door shut.

this is what continues for you both, you accidentally unplug his computers, he accidentally drops juice on you right before you go to work, you accidentally break his speakers, and he accidentally puts your night plushie in the washing machine and reduces it to nothing but a shapeless fluff. the cycle continues, both of you determined to not let the other breathe peacefully, every night you slept while making a plan to destroy his day, and every morning you woke up to execute it.

it was childish, immature but it gave you the satisfaction you craved. seeing his usually passive face become irritated or waking up to his screams of frustration and curses filled you to the brim with joy.

you did start to question why you enjoyed it so much though, sure you wanted to give him hell but the whole process of planning it wasn’t what made you satisfied, it was purely his reaction to it.

“you just want his attention again” your dear friend, jennie, mutters as she glares at you while sipping her bubble tea. you immediately scoff at her; she had no idea what she was talking about.

“no, i want him to suffer” you correct her and she shakes her head at you, putting her drink down and leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows. “i worry about you, you know.”

“why? i’m perfectly fine” you shrug because you don’t see anything that she needs to worry about, you are moving on, you are making yoongi suffer like you wanted to, your work performance is still intact, and everything was smooth sailing. “no, you are not. i thought it was weird that you wanted to stay in the same house as your ex, but i didn’t say anything because you were in a sensitive place then. now, you have to admit that you are delaying staying away from him.”

“i’m staying in a house that i own and that i am paying rent for, it has nothing to do with min yoongi.” you jab a finger on the table as irritation fills you, but you also feel embarrassed? humiliation crawls on your insides as you try to maintain a passive face. jennie’s face softens and she reaches out for your hand, “i know how much he hurt you, don’t punish yourself by thinking you have to prove to anyone that you want to hurt him as he did you. your pain doesn’t need justification.”

you couldn’t sleep that night, all you could think of was jennie’s face as she uttered those words, her gentle hands keeping you anchored to the real world, the world where min yoongi shredded you to pieces without caring or knowing about it. before you know it, you feel tears escape down the side of your eyes and your hand shakily reaches out to muffle your sobs.

why couldn’t you just stop caring?

why couldn’t you up and leave?

what kept you tethered to a relationship that was void before you ever called it off?

and why couldn’t you just fucking stop crying?

you wanted to let your hand go, so yoongi can listen to your wails, to what he’s done to you, the damage he’s caused, the broken pieces that you struggle to pick up, maybe in some sick way, you want him to come and wipe your tears away, maybe you just want him to show up this once, to make up for all the months he didn’t. but you don’t let it go, you hold it tighter against your face because as much as you want him to know, you can’t. you can’t have him find out that your tears were because and for him.

you didn’t have to justify your pain but you did have to prove that you were moving on, so against jennie’s and all your friend’s better judgment, you decided a date night would just be enough to prove that you didn’t care about yoongi or whatever you had with him anymore.

you hummed lightly as you got your favorite dress out, it had an open back and whenever you wore it, yoongi couldn’t stop touchin-

this isn’t about him.

you huff in annoyance at your own thoughts as you lay your dress down on the bed, you are not thinking about him, not today and not ever, today is only about your date, you are going to have a good time, get lightly tipsy, and maybe even have a full-blown make out session if you get drunk enough for it and you will not think of yoongi at all.

you took a deep breath in as you started doing your makeup.

how long has it been since you got ready for a date? at least, a date that didn’t get canceled as soon as you were ready. your makeup brush slows in your hand as your heart starts feeling heavy again. you didn’t bother getting ready for anything if it was not with yoongi even when he canceled, even when he pleaded with you that he would be there and left you hanging.

you gave such little regard for yourself and you feel angry that you didn’t put yourself first, that you didn’t fight him right then and there, you feel irritated that you quenched your needs for as long as he made you wait.

you start getting ready with more aggression after that, you were definitely going to put yourself first now, yoongi gets none of you. you don’t need him for anything anymore.

except for maybe one thing.

you stand in front of the mirror with a scowl, your arms awkwardly bent to try and zip your dress up but your fingers are just out of reach for it, you start to hop awkwardly hoping that somehow hopping around will magically zip your dress up and start to groan in frustration.

“are you auditioning to be a kangaroo?”

you pause with gritted teeth at his amused voice coming from the doorway that you didn’t realize was wide open all this time.

this can’t be happening right now.

“can you fuck off?”

“and you will go out with your zip wide open, got it, i will be taking my leave.” He snickers and starts to head out, only to pause when a whine comes up your throat, you bite your lip to swallow your pride because you don’t want to ask him, but you have no choice.

“yoongi, can y-“

“can i?” he turns around in a flash, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face, that you want to slap off.

“can you zip my dress up?” you mumble out in a rush and shift your feet to face him with half your body. yoongi whistles, looking away, acting like he didn’t hear you at all, and your eyes drop into a glare, you can already feel your irritation crawling up your skin.

“you heard me, stop acting like a kid.” you scowl at him as you stomp your foot.

“i did but a ‘please’ would be nice, you know, zipping a dress is tough work and i can’t just hand it out for free.” he was enjoying this way too much but his heart was dipping continuously as he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye.

when was the last time he saw you, all dressed up?

why can’t he remember the last time he took you out?

why can’t he remember the last time he fell asleep and woke up with you?

he clears his throat loudly as he makes his way across the room, your glare stays on yoongi as he approaches you but you don’t miss how his eyes stay downward as he walks with slow steps. you tilt your head in confusion as you push your hair to the side, to let him zip you up.

but he never does.

he stands behind you, looking in the mirror as you hold your hair up, he looks at you through the mirror, and your eyes meet his.

yoongi doesn’t look away.

you don’t look away.

your zip is long but forgotten.

and suddenly, you feel like the room is running out of air for you to breathe in.

you hadn’t been this close to yoongi in so long.

you can’t tell if he’s thinking the same thing, you can’t tell if he’s finding it hard to find air right now too, you can’t tell if his heart is beating as loudly as yours.

but sorrow fills you because, in all these months, yoongi has come this close to you, only to zip the dress that you’re wearing on a date with someone else.

“yoongi.” you whisper, so quietly, so delicately, as if you can’t bear to utter his name but you have to.

“right, zip.” he shakes his head at himself, quickly looking downwards and his hand’s ghost on the skin exposed to him, yoongi is suddenly unsure if he can zip you up or not, he’s unsure if his hands will let him only zip you up, he’s unsure of where that would lead to.

“where are you headed to?” yoongi tries to sound casual as clears his throat and his fingers finally catch the small zip at the dip of your dress, he takes his sweet time dragging it up, his eyes savoring every inch of skin he hasn’t touched.

you hesitate, you don’t want to tell him. actually, maybe you do, maybe you wanted him to know before but after the shift in the very air around you, it feels wrong. “a date.” your answer leaves you in a choke, just as he finishes pulling the zip all the way to the top.

he removes his hands from you like he’s been stung, and he steps back, yoongi doesn’t even breathe as he stands unmoving.

air rushes in your lungs once you notice the conflict in yoongi’s eyes, once you recognize the conflict forming a knot in your stomach and even air seems like too much for you.

the moment is over and you can feel your defenses climbing up too.

you are ready to fight him, you are ready to argue that you both were done, and that what you do with your time is none of his business and it never will be, and that you can kiss, fuck, do whatever you want with whomever you want.

because you two were done.

that statement didn’t feel real until this second. something about the statement felt like the most incorrect thing in the world to yoongi.

but he won’t say it.

he won’t hurt you anymore.

he can’t hurt you anymore.

“have fun.” his words are low, and curt and they fall into the silence around you both in a loud thud as yoongi quickly walks out of the room.

you are left in your dress, with a date you were going to be late to and a heart so heavy, you feel that you will drop it at your doorstep before heading out.

“isn’t that so exciting?” your date beams at you.

he’s cute, well accomplished from what you’re told and he seems interested in you.

you wish you could say the same.

but all your responses to him have been one-line sentences and tight smiles.

along with your pre-existing obsessive thoughts of yoongi and that goddamn zip, guilt bleeds into your system and so does dread.

guilt, because your date is as good as dates come, and he already mentioned that he would be more than willing to take time out for you and that he will be available whenever you want, that the next date will be whenever you are comfortable.

which should excite you.

which should delight you.

it should make you the happiest person in the world that he’s so openly giving you his time even if you are meeting him for the first time, it should make you the happiest that he seems enamored by you, that he wants to know so much about you. your friend had mentioned that this guy had been asking about you for a while and that when she asked, he had jumped in joy at the idea of going on a date with you, this should make you happy.

but it doesn’t, it sits bitterly in your mouth that it doesn’t make you feel a single thing.

you felt a million more flutters, kicks, and tingles in that one-minute yoongi zipped your dress up than you have for the past hour sitting opposite to your date.

dread also, slowly but surely, starts to consume you from the inside out. it scares you that maybe you will never feel all of that with another person, that you have somehow run out of sensation when it comes to someone else, it scares you that this might be forever, that you will never truly move on, that you can ever only pretend to move on.

maybe if someone else touches you.

maybe if someone else feels you.

maybe you have a chance of forgetting the ghost that yoongi left on your skin, maybe if someone else kisses you, you will be able to forget how his lips felt.

maybe if someone else could be exactly like yoongi but not like yoongi at the same time, you can survive this.

there’s no one like yoongi.

and you can’t do this anymore.

you stand up abruptly, your mind too loud to let you sit and listen to one more word that didn’t come from yoongi. your date sits up alarmed, quickly reaching for your hand to ask you what was wrong, to check up on you.

he is touching you.

his hands grip your fingers tightly.

he won’t let go until you do.

there is security in his touch.

but.

nothing.

you feel nothing.

your breathing stills at the realization.

your body doesn’t even bother with his hands on yours, it doesn’t even register that a person is holding your hand, asking if you’re okay. your body hates you.

before you know it, you are rushing out a half-assed apology and running out of the restaurant leaving your date confused and hurt.

you wish you could turn back and tell him you felt the same.

you were confused and hurt too, just for someone else.

a defeated weight held your head down as you walk back to your home.

the home that you share with your ex.

if you were in a better mood, you would maybe laugh at the situation you’ve put yourself in, maybe laugh at how ridiculous all of this is but you can’t bring yourself to even walk without feeling like the world was crashing on you.

yoongi heard your footsteps out in the corridor and he jumps back from the door he had pressed his ear against, running to the couch before you reach the doorknob. and just as the door clicks open, he snuggles himself into the blanket on the couch and evens his breath to pretend like he’s just casually fallen asleep on the sofa with a movie playing.

he wasn’t pacing by the front door a million times, trying to listen in to when you would come back.

he wasn’t going to reach for his car keys and come to find you.

and yoongi definitely didn’t feel the jealousy burning in his throat since the second you walked out for a date with someone else.

yoongi hears a thud and opens his eyes to the smallest amount he can see.

and he sees you.

that dress still takes his breath away.

but he can hear your breathing too.

it’s uneven, rough, and too quick, just like how it always is when you feel overwhelmed or frustrated.

yoongi stiffens in his position, both concern and anger filling him and the blanket slips from his shoulder a little.

was it because of your date?

did he do something to you?

were you alright?

his heart thumps uncomfortably as your step near his figure, he doesn’t know if you can tell that he’s pretending or not.

then you sit right by where he’s laid, on the floor, another defeated sigh leaving your lips, and yoongi wonders of the ways he could kill your date for making you like this.

little did he know, it was because of him.

“i can’t do it, yoongi” you whisper, seemingly to no one even if you use his name like you don’t want him to hear and yoongi confirms that you believe his act.

“i can’t seem to move on” a sad and tired chuckle follows that sentence and yoongi’s skin burns underneath the blanket, he’s never heard you this way. “and i know you have, i know you moved on a long time, long before we ever broke up but i can’t. even if you have, i can’t.” tears build in your eyes as you try to blink them away, you felt ridiculous, talking to him when he was asleep.

but you couldn’t help it, there was so much you wanted to say but you never got the chance to.

“i can’t hate you for moving on, but i can hate our situation for making it so hard for me to move on, i can hate myself for ever loving you, i can hate a lot of things” you nod to yourself, yoongi’s fists curl on his chest, if only he could throw the blanket away and take you in his arms. if only it was that easy.

“i can’t hate you, i can never hate you” you finish, your head falls with the weight of every thought you had.

if only you could tell him this when he wasn’t sleeping, if only he made it easier for you to say it to him.

yoongi’s lips purse, out of all the things he thought you would end the sentence with, that wasn’t one of them.

he was prepared for you to insult him in the vilest way possible.

he was prepared for you to blame him; he was prepared to take the blame.

but he wasn’t prepared for what you said or how you said it.

he wasn’t prepared for the sad kind of joy that filled his heart.

his joy was a paradox, too many faces for him to feel it at all.

you got up, turning the television off and pausing to look at him before you disappeared into your room and prepared yourself for yet another day of pretending to hate him.

yoongi could feel the weight of your gaze on him. he foolishly wonders if his hair is looking okay today, if the pajamas he chose today looked good on him, if he was looking presentable.

he can’t help it, you are standing in your prettiest dress and yoongi knows no one can be more beautiful than you, in that dress, in any dress, or in nothing at all. he only wants to be worthy of you.

then you do something that makes yoongi choke back a long breath.

you tuck his blanket back in place and your hands make quick work to cover his ears sufficiently.

it’s a simple action but it makes yoongi feel everything he did for you when he confessed his crush to you all those years ago.

then you step back and pad away quickly to your room and once your door falls shut, yoongi sits up immediately, breathing heavily.

he buries his head in his hands as frustration and something so similar to grief run through him in waves.

was he really stupid enough to let you go?

why did he feel regret now, when everything was concluded?

why did you have to tell him all of that?

his heart ached, his fingers ached, all of it was for you. and he looks at your door longingly.

you were wrong, yoongi thought. yoongi would die before he ever moved on from you.

and he never really let up a chance to prove you wrong.

at your door, his hand pauses in the middle of knocking when he hears your sobs on the other side.

if someone ripped his heart out, it would probably hurt less than this.

how badly he wanted to break down the door and hug you until your tears became his.

how badly he wished to caress your hair until you fell asleep.

how badly he wished you would fall asleep in his arms.

how badly he wished, against his awareness of the selfish nature of his wish, to see you in that dress one last time.

yoongi could open the door, he could do all of this, he could grant himself everything he wishes for but the door wasn’t the only barrier between you two and he became painfully aware of all the invisible barriers you both held up now.

he can’t just leave and come back when he wants, it wasn’t fair on you.

so, yoongi, regretfully and slowly, takes a step back and disappears into his studio where he catches no sleep.

but hey, he could at least finish a song that night.

that night, yoongi knew he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t love you anymore. but he was also on thin ice with you, yoongi was going to try his best to stay on the surface.

this would be the last song he would make for a while, he had more important things on his checklist.

the smell of-

was that cream cheese?

your groggy, half-asleep mind somehow registers the waft of bagels and cream cheese in the air, which is enough to pull yourself out of bed.

with tangled hair and puffy eyes, you pad into the kitchen with a narrowed gaze.

of course, it’s yoongi.

you glare at his back which moves constantly to put together a cream cheese and chicken bagel which was, as mentioned, your favorite. usually, you would appreciate this view, usually, you would go give him a back-hug as he cooked for you but you knew it wasn’t for you.

“do you have to torture me like this?” you whine out, and yoongi snickers, his apron tightening around his waist as he turns around to look at you, “good morning to you too, you look bright as ever this morning” he gives you his best smile and you return a sarcastic one.

despite his aloof attitude, yoongi was trembling on the inside because he knows there is no single right way to win you back, he would have to earn it, and he would have to work on it every single day.

but if it was going to take forever to win you back, yoongi would try forever.

you buried your pounding head in your hands as you took a seat at the table, wondering how you were going to cook for yourself again without accidentally setting something or yourself on fire.

then, a glass of water with advil comes into view and you look up to see yoongi immediately backing away to work on breakfast again.

“are you trying to drug me?”

“is it working?”

you can’t help the small smile forming at his amused tone, but you don’t say anything which makes yoongi sigh in failing irritation. “come on, it’s just advil. you don’t need me to drug you, you do that with your cooking every day.”

“geez, thanks for reminding me i’m not freaking gordon ramsay in the kitchen” you continue his banter, somehow, you’re in a good mood even after how terribly last night ended. you go mute when he places a plate filled with your favorite bagel, an omelet, bacon, and even mini jam sandwiches in it.

you just stare at the plate before dragging your gaze to yoongi who turns away once again, this time with a dust of pink on his full cheeks that you catch.

“your side of the table is that way” you point to the opposite side, albeit regretfully because it’s been a while since you have had a proper, not-burnt breakfast, but he must have mistakenly placed this beautiful plate of food in front of you.

it has to be a mistake.

there’s no other reason for yoongi to feed you.

but oh, yoongi’s just so full of surprises.

“that one’s for you.” he shrugs casually as if it was normal to make you breakfast, after he’s only eaten it in front of you for a few weeks.

“what?”

“do you have hearing problems?”

“do you have mental problems?”

“yeah, but a dining table is hardly an appropriate place to discuss those, don’t you think?” maybe it was his flat tone as he said, indicative of his sense of humor, maybe you were just in a more fantastic mood than you had anticipated.

but you burst out laughing. you couldn’t help it; your laughter took over your entire system.

you can’t remember the last time you laughed like that.

yoongi had always managed to make you laugh or smile; this magical ability made you fall for him hard and fast, and after a rough day, he was the reason you at least slept peacefully, when you were together.

when you were together.

right, that wasn’t you two anymore.

that realization slows your laughter to a hesitant chuckle, yoongi wishes he didn’t notice that shift.

"don’t try to cook ever again if you want this roof over our head.” he jokes again as he sits down on his side of the table, suddenly the table seems too long to him and he hopes you’ll laugh again.

"are you saying you'll kick me out?" you dramatically gasp at him with an undeniable smile on your face.

it’s all right, yoongi will take a smile too.

"I’m saying you'll burn it down.” he continues with a playful whine that has you giggling again, swinging your legs under the table, a true indicator of your happiness in that minute which yoongi doesn’t miss.

“don’t you have work today?” you ask, finally digging into your food as yoongi does to his.

god, that’s good.

you swear his hands are magic.

“i took the day off” yoongi shrugs again, the second time he’s shrugging over things that aren’t half as casual as he makes them seem.

as long as you know, yoongi only ever took one day off, which was on your first anniversary.

he was always late to the other anniversaries.

you try not to think of that now, especially when both of you were in a civil mood.

“why, are you sick or something?” though concern fills you, you don’t let it show as you stuff your mouth.

“nope, just like that.” you hum in reply with poorly contained surprise.

“i don’t have work today either.” you don’t know why you tell him but you do.

“i know.”

“okay.”

you feel embarrassed at the disappointment that filled you when he didn’t say anything about it, what did you expect he was going to do, ask you for a date? if he wanted to, he would have done it when you were together.

“do you want to watch a movie?”

you almost drop your fork.

yoongi is surely full of surprises because you don’t even process his request for a second.

“what?”

“do you really have hearing problems?”

“no, i just didn’t quite catch what you said. are you asking me to watch a movie with you?” you repeat his words in disbelief, the plate of food that you loved so much, completely forgotten on the table.

“yes, that is what i said.” he confirms and you tilt your head in suspicion that yoongi notices too quickly which causes him to rush out, “as roommates.” it pains him to say it but he can’t come up with anything else to convince you.

“as roommates?” your confusion only grows.

“as roommates.”

“but why?” you can’t help but ask.

“just think of it as me trying not to be an insufferable roommate” he offers his explanation and in theory, in practicality, it makes perfect sense.

but both of you know it’s not that simple.

nevertheless, you don’t pry anymore.

yoongi’s shoulders fall in defeat when you don’t agree or deny, he just watches you continue to eat his food with furrowed eyebrows.

he took it too far, he should’ve stopped with breakfast today and tried to convince you to a movie another day, when you’ve warmed up more to him. you are probably still stuck in whatever happened last night and want your space.

“there’s this new horror one i saw on instagram the other day, i must have the link somewhere, i’ll put it on in a bit.” you look away with heated cheeks as you struggle to swallow your food.

oh.

you just agreed to the movie.

yoongi believes he could fly.

“man, this is not as scary as everyone said it was” you complain through a mouthful of popcorn, and yoongi nods in agreement, stuffing his face with a handful of popcorn too.

“by the way” yoongi sits up after hours of slouching on the couch and you signal for him to continue. “how did your date go yesterday?” he mutters, as casually as he could, reaching for more popcorn to avoid the tension surrounding the question.

last night comes back in flashes, your cute date, running away from the cute date, coming home to yoongi and confessing you would never get over him, covering him with a blanket and crying yourself to sleep.

shit, did he hear you?

“it went well, i came home pretty late though.” the lie tumbles out of you in lack of a better response.

yoongi knows you’re lying but he’s happy to play along with you because last night did a number on him too.

“glad to know it went well. i wouldn’t know when you came, i fell asleep watching some documentary” he munches on his popcorn loudly, he misses the error in his lie.

he wasn’t watching a documentary.

he was watching ‘finding nemo’.

and you know that because you were the one who shut the tv off.

you know that he’s lying. but instead of confronting him about that and that possibly leading to a conversation about what you uttered into the night, thinking he was asleep, wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.

“right, i did see you asleep.”

and i poured my heart out, right next to you.

yoongi in unaware his lie is caught; you prefer that he stays unaware. because if anything you said last night is what prompted him to act the way he did today, you are glad it didn’t all go to waste.

“we should sleep” he slouches back on the couch, too close to you, he’s hyperaware of your arms pressing against his but now that he’s already fallen back, he can’t quite get up as easily anymore.

he doesn’t want to get up.

“we should.” you agree.

neither of you moves a single inch.

laughter explodes into the room at that, both of your heads falling to the side to look at each other with squinted eyes full of happiness.

but when the laughter dies down and you are left to catch your breath, you are suddenly too aware of yoongi’s face being so close to yours, you don’t move away.

yoongi knows you know that you two are far too close.

he doesn’t move away either.

you start to lean in, your body is on autopilot as your hands sneak up to sit on the top of his knee, yoongi shudders from your touch.

how long had he gone without it?

how had he survived for so long?

how did his heart continue to beat without yours in his hands?

he panics internally as his hands come up to grab onto the sides of your face, like he won’t let go, like letting you go once was enough pain for him.

and when your lips touch, every bit of control you had left on your body evaporates into the air around you, you are grabbing his hair, and he is pulling you closer, and not once do you stop to take a breath.

because you know that when this moment is over, both of you won’t speak a word about it.

you can’t remember the last time yoongi kissed you this way, like his hands would disappear if they weren’t holding you, like his entire life purpose was to take your breath away and never give it back, like every part of him had been aching to do this.

and then it does end, painfully, too slowly, you pull away before your chest burns away, he pulls away because he has to.

you were right.

you don’t speak a word about it.

there was no ‘good night’ after that, there was no ‘see you later’, there was nothing left in that moment except the hope stored away in yoongi’s eyes. you pretend you don’t notice it as you, once again, eat the food he makes you in the morning.

yoongi knows he has to say sorry though, he hadn’t planned on that happening, he was just another lucky idiot that night, he was aware enough to know it wasn’t right for two to do that even if you’ve been together for years.

things were different and yoongi always hated change but he had to overcome this change instead of walking away from it, if he wanted to even dream of having you back.

so, he is the one who starts the uncomfortable conversation that you’d been anxiously waiting for.

“about last night-“

“you don’t have to worry about it.” you answer, as quick as lighting, and you even surprise yourself with your speed.

“oh?” yoongi raises an eyebrow at you.

what the fuck was he supposed to understand from that?

“come on yoongi, it’s not like we haven’t done it before” your chuckle following your words, is uncomfortable, tight, and completely unnatural.

“right” yoongi drawls, still not quite getting what you were hinting at.

were you okay with it?

were you not?

would he just have to kiss you again to find out?

“it was just a mistake, it happens, it’s not a big deal, i’m still moving out, you are still very much in love with your career, we don’t have to discuss it anymore” you eat as you speak, trying to bury the longing and bitterness in your voice with cold cereal.

so, that is what you meant.

yoongi doesn’t reply as his head stays down, he gets up soon after, cleaning up after himself and you, he doesn’t speak a single word or spare you a glance and disappears into his studio.

you are all too familiar with this scene.

you only watch as he does all this, you wouldn’t admit to another living soul that your heart grew heavier than it had ever been and that your chest felt tight enough to snap.

yoongi angrily walks around his studio, you could think it was a mistake but yoongi would break his computer before calling it a mistake.

but he realized he still had a long way to go.

yoongi had to be patient, he had no other choice.

but he doesn’t realize every second he goes by without telling you what was weighing on his heart, was another second your already dying hope vanished.

he can’t help but think back on the day he overheard you talking to your friend about your relationship, he subconsciously never really let go of that day, that day, he concluded that it was out of yoongi’s hands to do anything.

“i can’t believe you called, it’s been way too long” he heard your sigh of happiness outside the door, and yoongi paused, he doesn’t exactly know why he stayed to listen but he does.

your relationship, by then, had already been on the rocks, but neither of you acknowledged it.

“i wasn’t going to call, but rumi was telling me you were on a date with a certain someone” your friend sang from the other side of the speaker, clearly trying to tease you but you don’t say anything to that.

yoongi knows why you went silent, making him dig his heels deeper and listen closely to see what you would say.

“yeah, about that” you let out a hesitant chuckle, your voice struggling to keep your cheery tone. “hey, you good? what happened?” your friend’s concern was palpable and yoongi almost scoffed at her, he cared about you too, it wasn’t just her.

but yoongi couldn’t deny the weeks you both had gone without so much as exchanging a proper conversation.

yoongi would never take the blame for it, though.

“we didn’t end up going” yoongi peeks through the door to see your face turned away from the camera and he hated that he noticed the pain etched in your furrowed eyebrows. your friend stayed silent at your simple, but heavy answer, she could tell this wasn’t the first time it happened.

“but today is your anniversary?”

“it is.” you agree with a gulp, still refusing to meet her gaze.

“how long has this been going on?” her voice comes softly, so softly that your chin starts to wobble.

“nothing’s been going on, yoongi and i are fine.” you wanted to believe your words but anyone with two eyes and ears could see nothing was fine with you two.

“is that what you are telling yourself?”

“what else am i supposed to do?” your glare turns sharp and angry, you were fed up with everyone coddling you, you felt claustrophobic enough when you were with yourself.

“you know, if you want to cry, you can. none of us would judge you, you know that very well.” she tries to comfort you and yoongi’s breath turns impatient.

why was she trying so hard to convince you something was wrong, when you were telling her that everything was fine?

why did yoongi feel like she was trying to start a fight?

why did yoongi, a small part of him, feel like a fight was inevitable?

“there’s nothing to cry about, my boyfriend is just busy for an anniversary that might come again, it isn’t as important as what he does.” as you say it, a dread falls over both you and yoongi that there might not be another anniversary.

his heart free falls to his feet.

he had been busy; he wasn’t lying about that but yoongi hadn’t checked on you all this while. he can’t remember how many dates he canceled.

but that wasn’t his fault, that was life, that was his life and you knew about his life before you entered it.

it couldn’t be yoongi’s fault, it had to be yours.

yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in bitterness at the defeat in your voice, at the absurdity of the situation he never thought you two would have to be in, at the world for keeping you apart.

he looks away just when your sobs break the silence in the room.

“i thought i couldn’t breathe without yoongi, but i am, i am living many days without him, with only glances of him, i am living and breathing.” yoongi’s head leaves the doorway before you finish your sentence. if you wanted to live without him, he would let you go, he didn’t need you to stay out of pity.

“but it all hurts, and i don’t want to do any of that without him” is what he fails to catch in his anger.

yoongi looks back at the day mournfully now, he should’ve taken you out right then and there, he shouldn’t have given up just because it seemed like you did, his head falls in his hands as he rakes his hands through his hair in agitated motions.

he wasn’t sure if he could win you back.

but he wasn’t going to give up, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

your days continued, as usual, he made you breakfast and packed you lunch, did your laundry and set them aside, he made sure you ate after you got off work and you both watched a movie or listened to songs together, or anything at all, together at the end of the day.

you were feeling good.

too good.

things were going well enough to make you nervous because suddenly, everything you knew from your breakup to the two weeks of enmity that followed those two weeks, changed drastically.

it felt like everything went back to the way it was and as much as you should be enjoying it, you didn’t, without confirmation of where you both stood, you couldn’t.

and soon, there came a catalyst that changed everything once again.

it was a mistake.

yoongi would never intentionally do this.

he took your pile of clothes as he usually does, placing them in a bucket and preparing to do your laundry along with his.

yoongi’s heart thrums in satisfaction as he places them in the washing machine, he always felt good doing chores for you, he doesn’t know why and with how well things were going, he dances and sings his way to the laundry detergent and whistles happily as he pours it heavily over your clothes, making sure to add extra fabric softener.

he leaves to do some light work in his studio, not knowing the mistake he committed.

yoongi was gunning to ruin your life, you were so sure of it.

nothing else could explain your sopping wet blouses, supposed to be white, at your feet.

you gape in horror as you pick the pile apart frantically to search for any blouses that could be salvaged, after all, these were all you wore to work, and your head falls in defeat once you see all of them in multi-colors instead of their usual stark white.

your hands tighten by your side as you feel hot all over with pure rage, you quickly grab the ex-white blouses and storm into the living room where yoongi scrolls casually on his phone, his pout whistles out tunes which fade away as he catches sight of your heavy steps towards him.

you throw your blouses at his feet and your nose flares, yoongi jumps in his seat.

“what the fuck happened?” he gasps out, not understanding the anger in your eyes.

“yoongi, this isn’t funny.” you manage to say beyond gritted teeth and he scrunches his eyebrows.

“what isn’t funny?” he frowns in confusion.

“stop acting dumb, i will fucking force detergent down your throat” that raises concern in him, he looks down at the pile of clothes by his feet.

none of the whites were whites anymore.

fuck.

“okay, listen i swear this is an accident, i’ll get you new on-“

“i wear these to work! what is wrong with you?” you point down at the pathetic pile of clothes by his feet with hands shaking from anger.

“you know, i wouldn’t do this intentionally, i am aware you wear these to work, let’s go out now and get you new shirts, i’m sure some shops will be open” he gets up from his seat, searching for his keys.

“don’t act dumb yoongi, it doesn’t suit you at all.”

yoongi starts getting frustrated, why don’t you believe him?

“let’s go and get them before the shops close” he tries to remain calm.

“i’m not going anywhere with you.” you stay rooted in your place and yoongi’s patience starts to run thin. “i’m telling you, it was a mistake, i’m not crazy enough to do this intentionally, now let’s not fight and get you shirts you need for tomorrow before we can’t.”

“don’t act like you are some hero, you are the one who ruined them!” you don’t understand why you are so angry or why you can’t seem to move from where you stood.

“and i’m trying to fix it.” he grumbles out, slamming the keys on the counter beside him.

you stare at the keys with heavy breaths and he stares at you, his anger melting as quickly as it came to the surface.

“let’s go.” he takes the keys in his hands again.

maybe it was the confusion that finally manifested with an ugly head.

maybe you hated how comfortable you got around yoongi again.

maybe you are seeing nothing but all his mistakes until that minute.

maybe you aren’t being fair at all.

but you snap.

“you think you are the only one who does important work?” you didn’t mean to get personal or bring up the topic that broke you both up again, but you couldn’t help it. your arms cross against your chest as yoongi spins on his heels to turn back to you.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you clearly think you are the only one in the entire world who does meaningful work, the rest of us are just slaving away for money and security, but of course, the great min yoongi works for the greater good, for the comfort of many, for millions who adore him, that is why any work that is not his, is not valuable” your voice drips with venom and mocking as you take slow steps towards him, yoongi’s face falls into his usual glare as he watches you speak.

you poke your finger against his chest, your voice quivering with poorly controlled fury, “who the fuck do you think you are? do you think that writing a few songs and getting some records will erase how horrible you make people you are supposed to love, feel? do you think that you can get away with everything because your name is not just a name, but also a brand? i can at least say that my name belongs and serves only me, can you? you are nothing but walking merchandise that anyone can buy.” again, you never meant to say all of that, you know better than to call anyone an object but that was the thing about your anger, your anger had the power of making you say the most vicious words in the world and you had never learned to control it.

“you don’t mean that” yoongi forces himself to say because those words from anyone else, wouldn’t mean jack shit to him but coming from you, they speared his heart over and over again. he waits, he waits with his sinking heart that you would agree with him, he doesn’t believe in god but at that moment, he wished for every power to let you agree with him.

the air grew heavier around you both as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“i have never meant anything more. you fucked with my work life, you know how much of an asshole my manager is about dress codes but you did the one thing that could ruin weeks of work for me, and you did it all by yourself, so congratulations min yoongi, you have once again proved to be the worst thing to ever happen to me” you clapped slowly as you stepped away from him, your face grim and dark as you turn away.

yoongi’s heart clenches as your words circle his body in a dangerous tornado.

walking merchandise that anyone can buy.

walking merchandise that anyone can b-

your glare slips as the words you uttered sink into your skin, and by the time you turn back around, yoongi’s eyes already gathered enough tears that they run down his face.

“is that what you’ve thought of me till now?” his voice breaks and so does your heart. “yoongi, no-“ you step towards him but he backs away, his defenses climb back right infront of your eyes as his body suddenly looks too far away.

“that’s not fair, you don’t get to tell me now, that you thought i was merchandise, that i keep hurting everyone i love, when all i’ve done these past weeks is try and win you back.” your world stops spinning as yoongi admits to his trials.

you feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

“yoongi, you were right, i didn’t mean-“ you walk over to him with hesitant steps, he doesn’t back away this time but he doesn’t let you finish either.

“i know i’ll never be worthy of you, i know i can only try but i’m trying, god knows i’m fucking trying because even if you can live and breathe without me, i can’t do any of that without you.” your own eyes start to tear up as you reach to wipe the wetness of his cheeks and yoongi takes a shaky breathe in as his face involuntarily cuddles into your palm.

“and you were wrong that night, i will never move on from you, i am simply not capable of moving on from you, because i have never loved anyone more than i’ve loved you, i’ve never wanted someone as much as i have wanted you, every bit of me belongs to you, none of me is mine anymore. and it took you being away for me to realize that.” yoongi’s confession stops time and space. he feels exposed like someone stripped him naked and threw him into traffic but he finally lets you know everything he’s dreamed of telling you.

you press your forehead against him with a wobbling chin and cup his face with shaky hands.

“did you ever think, that by loving me, you were hurting me too?” you needed him to know the extent of his pain, the depth of his scars. yoongi lets you tell him, he needed to know as well.

“every day, i waited.” the ball in your throat gets tighter as you speak and yoongi hates that he’s the reason why.

“every single date you canceled, every night i fell asleep without you, every meal i had without you, all those days i went without seeing you, i need you to know that it killed me slowly, that it made me a shell of the person i am.” yoongi felt shame rushing through him at your words, at the pain he caused you.

he would understand if you didn’t let him in again.

he wouldn’t try again if you didn’t want him to, he has too much respect for you.

“i love you too much to not give you a chance, heck i would probably give you a chance even if you don’t ask for it.” he looks up with blurry eyes.

“but i need to believe that it will be different this time, not just know that it will be.” you step away at that, staring at yoongi who was left standing with a burden that suddenly fell on his shoulders.

how was he supposed to make you believe that?

could you not trust his word alone?

but then again, his words haven’t exactly ended things well for you both.

“how do you want me to show you?” he needed to know, there was nothing he needed to know more.

your breathing stalls at his words.

“please tell me.” his voice breaks as he whispers that, yoongi’s eyes gathering tears again and your heart falls to your feet at the redness coating his eyes.

you wished none of today would have happened.

“yoongi.” you whisper back but you don’t even know what he could do to mend things, you are not sure he can but you can’t deny him a chance.

you don’t have an answer for him.

“i am going apartment hunting soon” you confess finally, and he feels his breath get knocked out of his chest. “oh really?” he asks, sniffing as he looks away.

“my friend knows this real estate agent person who set me up for a few tours, you have to understand why i had to do it.” he knows exactly why you had to do it and he hated knowing that it was all because of him.

but he wasn’t going to give up after ripping his heart out for you.

“i’ll come with you.” yoongi nods and you frown at him, “yoongi, you really don’t have to, i know you are bus-“ he cuts you off, “i am not busy, let me come with you, i want to at least make sure you move into a nice place.” that was a total lie but it wasn’t like yoongi had a lot of options left.

you ponder for a while, and yoongi waits patiently for your answer, he won’t push you if you deny but he will be as stubborn as he can be without frustrating you.

“fine, i’ll let you know by tomorrow.” you finally give in and without another word, go back into your room. you close your door with an exhausted sigh, your face aligning with your reflection across the room.

your eyes were redder than ever and all the energy had been sucked out of your face, making you look sick and you felt sick too, your entire body was aching and you wondered if yoongi felt this way too, if he was as tired, if he felt like the world was pulling his body down, if he maybe wanted to give up because of this feeling.

you stay several minutes this way; you hadn’t thought you would call yoongi merchandise. you, of all people, knew how stressful his job got but you no longer wanted to use that as an excuse for how he treated you.

“how do you want me to show you?”

those words sent a shiver down your spine at that moment, it was the desperation that drenched his voice, the way his hands were shaking beside his body, and his eyes that looked through every inch of you, trying to find ways to convince you.

a slow knock drew you out of your mind, your hand locking around the doorknob to pull it open, and there stood the reason for all your pain and yearning.

yoongi held a tray of hot soup with ginger tea, and a bunch of chocolates, his gaze settling everywhere but at you, as he stood with shifting feet.

“you didn’t eat anything.” you didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten all day but apparently, yoongi had and that tightened your chest around your heart a little more, suffocating you with the love you held for him a little more.

with trembling fingers, you hoped he wouldn’t notice, you take the tray from his hands and place it on a table, and yoongi turns to leave, he didn’t want to bother you too much, he just wanted to make sure you ate.

you pulled on his wrist, not exactly sure of what you will do next but somehow, you needed to touch him, feel that he was real and that you both were here, so lost but still together.

“t-thank you.” you stutter out, every other word you had woven all these months stayed trapped in your mouth. yoongi stared at the hand that held his wrist, he had almost forgotten how out of breath this used to make him feel. how he used to lose nights of sleep imagining you and him, in a house, waking up next to you, falling asleep with you, long before you had both ever committed, yoongi had imagined every day in his life with you in it.

he can’t believe how close he is to losing all of it.

“we should talk, yoongi.” you feel tired but you won’t be catching any sleep in the state the both of you were in, he would spend all night worrying about you, and you would spend all night worrying about him.

yoongi silently followed you into the guest room, it was still strange for him to see you in another part of the house, he eyes the makeup that was scattered on the vanity, the clothes lying around on the sofa, your socks at the edge of the bed and as silly as it sounded, he hated that none of this mess was in the room you two shared.

“i’m still going to see the apartments” you start off awkwardly, taking a seat on the bed and yoongi stood at the corner of the bed, hating that it felt wrong to sit next to you at the moment.

when had it become so bad?

“and i’m still coming with you to see them.” he concludes and gathers all his courage before plopping down next to you. if today didn’t go the way it did, you would laugh at the distance between you two and pull him closer and tell him to stop acting funny, but none of that felt right.

“i think you understand you fucked up” you say, finally looking up at his figure next to you and you shouldn’t have, your resolve already was spread thin, and looking at yoongi didn’t help. “i do.” he agrees and nods shamefully.

“what are you going to do to fix it?”

“anything you want me to.” his answer is quick and firm, he was prepared for anything you would ask for, but you were tired of asking.

“it’s not about what i want, yoongi. i need to believe that you want this as much as i do, and that you’re prepared to fight for it, asking me about what to do is you just handing over the responsibility to me instead of at least trying to figure it out by yourself.” he listens intently, and puts himself in your shoes.

“i took a break from work.” your eyes widen at him and you have to force your jaw shut because you could’ve imagined anything but not those words leaving yoongi’s lips of all people.

“you, what?”

“work is good, very good but it was keeping me from you and it was hard to make that decision but i can always work, i can’t lose you. i can lose millions of dollars, this house, all my clothes, everything but nothing mounts to losing you.”

you have to force yourself to look away when he says that, because you never could have imagined that you were worth all of that and more to him and you are well aware of his deep affection for his work which makes it all the more sentimental that he was taking a break for you.

“i want to be worthy of you again, i want to spend time with you, i want to take care of you, i want to be anywhere around you as long as you want me. i thought i was working for us, for us to be comfortable, but i got selfish in the middle, and i ignored the person who kept me going when it got too hard.” he pauses, his breath shaking as his eyes fall shut. he remembers the exact second his chest almost blew up at the sight of you leaving home, he never wants to experience that again.

“it’s all on me, i should’ve never let you feel like i didn’t love you, loving you is one of the only things i can do right.”

“besides music.” you add in hopes to lighten the mood and you are successful when a full grin grows on yoongi, one that has your cheeks warming up with joy.

“besides music.” he agrees, “but i’ve done it for enough time now, i just want to love you, in the way you deserve to be loved. which is why i’m asking, no i’m begging for you to let me do this right, one last time.”

“what will change? if i say, yes?”

“all my time will be yours; all of my attention has always been yours and it will remain yours, i will make your food like i always have, we will go on dates whenever we want, and we will watch all the movies we’ve wanted to watch but couldn’t, we’ll do everything we used to do but better. it won’t go back to how it was but i don’t want us to stay as the shadow of who we used to be, because we’re meant for more than that.” he says sincerely, with his heartbeat echoing in every word and you couldn’t just pretend like you didn’t hear it.

“as much as i try to will this feeling away, i can never stop hoping for us.” in the next second that he utters those words, you throw yourself in his arms, and your final resolve breaks as his shaky hands snake down the length of your back like he can’t believe he gets to hold you like this again.

the first tear slips without knowledge, secretly and it disappears in his shoulder, his tear disappears in the crook of your neck. the tears that follow, fall shamelessly, without any intention of stopping and none of you say another word, not another ‘i need you to stay because i’ll lose the important piece of me if you go’, not another ‘i love you, like i’ve loved nothing else and losing you scares me like nothing else’, all of those remain unspoken but they hang in the air around you.

“i believe, with everything in me, that we’re meant for more than this.” yoongi braves to look at you, his eyes zeroing in on the curves of your cheeks, he hates that he was the reason for the tears that have fallen on them.

he can’t let it ever happen again.

“do you?”

“this one has beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, i heard you have a passion for reading, so the sunlight will be perfect.” your agent says enthusiastically as he walks you through the sixth apartment you’ve seen today.

“she also has a passion for sleeping so that won’t work.” yoongi groans as he walks behind you, your face grows red as you slap him on the arm.

“if you’re going to complain about every house, just stay outside, i will look through them.” you grit your teeth at him but your heart softens when his mouth pulls into a whine, “our house is perfect, i literally don’t understand why you’re moving.”

all yoongi has done since he’s stepped out of home is complain about every single house you’ve been to.

“the closet won’t hold half your clothes.”

“a big kitchen is useless for you.”

“this literally looks like a druggie’s hideout.”

“it’s too white.”

no, you are not sure what he meant with the last one either but all you know is that he’s whisked you away from all of them before you could even consider them as options.

“we’ve talked about this, and we agreed that space could do us some good, and no, our house isn’t perfect, my bookshelf has no space left.” you complain lowly so that the agent doesn’t hear you but lo and behold he does. yoongi, on the other hand, can’t remember when he agreed that space would do you good, hell that’s the last thing he wants.

“which is why this house would be perfect for you, the bedroom offers a stunning full wall bookshelf that you can stock up with all of your reads without compromising for space!” he cheerfully chatters and yoongi’s jaw tightens, he hates this agent with all his body and soul even if he’s known him for an hour.

“i can build a bookshelf from scratch” he mumbles grumpily but he can’t help the way his heart flutters when he sees you catch sight of the bookshelf. it’s everything you ever want in a bedroom, a proper vanity, a low-set bed, perfect lighting, and of course, the majestic bookshelf.

your smile grows as you trace your fingers over the plush vanity and the bookshelf and yoongi’s face breaks into a half-smile.

it’s bittersweet, to have you, but in a different house, not the home you’ve built for years but yoongi would never deny anything that grew that smile on your face.

“i really like this one.” you beam at the agent who sighs out in relief but maintains a professional smile, “if you’re all set for it, i’ll get the paperwork ready.” he offers immediately and your eyes pass on yoongi’s figure in the doorway. he smiles at you encouragingly, as if he’s okay with it, but you know he’s not.

just then, yoongi’s phone rings and he excuses himself to step out to take the call, right before he leaves, he hears you say, “i’ll take this one” in a lovely, sing-song tone that he knows you only use when you’re truly happy. his shoulders slump but he knew that this would happen today, he had told his heart all night to not give up on him.

he answers the phone with an irritated tone, he didn’t know how to feel, he could barely listen to the person speaking to him on the phone, he wanted to be happy just for the fact that you agreed to give him a second chance, and that you were excited to spend time with him, but he couldn’t help the sinking in his chest at the thought of waking up and not seeing you.

“no, i am not coming in for work next week, i already told you this, don’t call me again.” yoongi says in a calm but stern manner, the person tries talking again but you were out of the house, and yoongi could care less about anything else.

“did you sign the papers? did you need a pen? i think i have one in my car, let me go grab it.” he rambles and hastens to make his way to the car but you bite back a smile and grip onto his hand.

“yoongi.” you step into his open arms and hug his torso, yoongi is confused but his arms wrap around you, and unconsciously you both are swaying in each other’s embrace.

the house was great but being in yoongi’s arms for these two minutes felt more like home than any house in the world and every corner of the house reminded you of the lack of his presence.

the kitchen, where he won’t cook, where he won’t make fun of your dishes.

the couch, where his headphones don’t lay carelessly.

the bedroom, where his side is neatly arranged while yours stays a mess.

the balcony, where he won’t sip his coffee dramatically at sunset to amuse you.

and the bookshelf, that he won’t help you fill with all the books he gets home, just because they reminded him of you.

you had wanted a home and space but you could find both of those in yoongi.

“you can build a bookshelf, right?” yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch at your question, he almost feels offended that you have to ask that.

“um duh, you know i can.” he whines and you giggle into his chest.

“then, i’m not moving.” yoongi’s arms almost fall away at your words, a strange mix of relief, gratefulness and content fill his every crevice as he tries not to hug you tighter, a punishment for even thinking of keeping you away from him.

and he will take this mix of emotions and remember it forever, the day you gave up on space to stay with him, he will remember the favor you did for his heart for as long as he breathes.

“i will build a million bookshelves if that’s what you want, all you have to do is stay, forever.” forever is a big word, a word yoongi never believed in, always saying that everything in life was on borrowed time but with you, it feels like too short of time.

you knew how he felt about forever so for him to say it to you, rushes into your chest and spreads with a warmth that makes you feel all things giddy and good.

he says nothing, no words, just keeps you in his arms after time had kept you away for too long.

“let’s go home, yoongi.”

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