#don’t mind me i just think that sex and gender are the same thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairyysoup · 3 months

Text

his hands

pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men

a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore.

“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?”

The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with.

The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.

You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.

“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”

“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.

“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.”

“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?”

You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.

“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.

“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”

“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.”

You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”

“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind.

You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.

It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open.

Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.

You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.

You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.

After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it.

“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter.

You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?

Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.”

You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look.

“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”

You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens.

“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”

“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies.

Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”

“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.

“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”

“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again.

“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”

“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible.

“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”

You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”

Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”

“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.”

“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?”

“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit.

“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.

You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.

He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.

After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.”

You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head.

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.

“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat.

Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.

“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”

His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror.

Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it.

Cocky bastard.

“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?”

“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”

“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”

A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places.

“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation.

Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.

“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.

“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for.

“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”

“Tell me where to sign.”

He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time.

“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back.

You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.

“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?”

You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?”

“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”

“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”

“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?”

“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right.

Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!

By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.

You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.

False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.

You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.

You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”

What the fuck did you just say?

Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”

When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.

There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.

This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.

“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”

“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”

“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”

His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander.

Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all.

“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.

Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.

You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”

“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.”

“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.

“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”

“No way.”

“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.”

“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.”

“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”

A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”

“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.”

You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”

Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?”

“Yeah, not too flashy.”

“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”

Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.

Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.

You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.

“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.

You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up.

When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.

Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”

Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–

Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”

“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.

Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–

“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you.

You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven.

You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room.

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.

“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck.

“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh.

“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.

Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?”

Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.”

“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.”

He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”

Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.

When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.

Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you.

“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat.

His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more.

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”

He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”

You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.

Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather.

“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already.

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”

You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same.

“Good girl.”

Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume.

“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.

“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling.

Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”

You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”

Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.”

Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.

Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours.

“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said.

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.”

Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger.

Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes.

“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”

You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs.

“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”

Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.

You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down.

“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”

“Eddie, we’re naked.”

“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”

“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it.

“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #roses*#eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

2K notes · View notes

abditorial · 4 months

Note

I would sell my liver for you to write inumaki x reader smut where the reader teaches inumaki how to drive (or vice versa) and they end up fugging in the back seat 😩

Don’t worry mousie, you can keep that liver! I would write this for free. I will write this for free!

You didn’t specify reader gender… So I’m picking AFAB reader, but if you wanted AMAB I will HAPPILY rewrite, just let me know!

YOU NEVER BEEN WITH NO ONE AS NASTY (as me!)

SPICE UP YOUR LIFE, COME GET A FREAK…

FT. Inumaki Toge

X F!READER

WARNINGS: 18+, AFAB reader, They/Them pronouns, non-curse AU, Inumaki can speak normally but is very quiet overall, established relationship.

An abandoned grocery store parking lot where was you had learned how to drive initially. It was a discreet location where no authority bothered to check, as it was a waste of time, so they typically wouldn’t say anything if someone without a license was taking a car out for a little test drive to pick up a few new tricks. This is why you had chosen to take Toge to that same empty parking lot so that he could understand what it was like behind the wheel.

For about a week now you had been teaching your boyfriend how to drive. He was way too old to still be asking for rides everywhere, and eventually it came to a point where you had to scold him a bit before coming to the agreement that you would teach him and he’d eventually take himself places without needing you to do it for him. Toge was an excellent learner; He picked up on things quickly, and seemed to be a natural at the whole driving thing. In fact, he probably would have been good enough to go get his license already…

If it weren’t for you distracting him every two seconds. You weren’t doing it on purpose, but you had to understand that the way your lips would curl up into that cute, innocent smile whenever he did something good and complimented him on his work that the tent in his pants was not just from the way he was sitting. Perhaps it was also just the risk-factor— Abandoned or not, having sex in a parking lot was still semi-public and the thought of someone hearing or seeing you two was a big turn on for him.

Every night, after your little lessons with him, he’d have to rut his hips up into the makeshift hole he created with his hands, gasping and whimpering out your name so quietly as to not disturb his roommates. The shame flooded his body whenever cum spurted all over stomach and palms, but at the same time he felt so much better after releasing all that pent up arousal. Of course Toge felt bad for turning such a wholesome act into something twisted and dirty, but what could he do about it? Stop thinking? Right.

Today was the final straw, though. The time where he had to genuinely question if you were doing all of this on purpose or not because the way you palmed the top of that stick shift couldn’t just be a coincidence. Your well manicured fingers drifted down towards the shaft, dancing along the surface before wrapping around its cylindrical form and pulling back to put the car in park. The entire display had Toge mentally groaning, burying his face in his hands with frustration.

His hand reached out to cover yours on the shift, muttering your name in a rather soft tone to get your attention. You turned your head with that same innocent smile, but it melted away as soon as you saw the genuine passion burning in his eyes, like he was undressing you in his mind. It made your heart hammer against your rib cage, your throat became suddenly very dry before eliciting a nervous laugh.

“Toge—?” You were cut off when he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. It wasn’t the hot, passionate kiss you had expected based on the way he was burning his gaze into you, but it was gentle and tender. His lips slowly moved against yours, grunting into your mouth while one hand trailed up to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it lightly. The other ran over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers brushing against the crotch of your blue jeans that hugged your hips nicely.

You don’t know how, because you were so caught up in such a passionate moment, but eventually the pair of you had drifted to the back seat where he finally let his urges take over. Lanky, thin hands were eager to yank your shirt off like it was the last think they’d do; they fumbled around with your bra afterwards. He tried to unclasp it with one originally, but eventually he discarded the item of clothing after using both. Goes to show how being too desperate will get you nowhere.

He was quick to play with your pretty tits. Toge even pulled his mouth away from yours, letting his saliva-soaked lips leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your jaw to one of your nipples, latching on to nip and suck at it lightly. You gasped and threw your head back slightly, staring down at him through hazy eyes while your fingers clumsily tugging his shirt off over his head. He was a skinny twig of a man, but you didn’t mind. You loved running the pads of your fingers up and down his stomach, feeling every ridge and bump along the way from the dips in his skin to the hammering of his heart.

“I want to feel all of you,” He muttered in a daze, his voice almost coming out like a pathetic whine against your perfect skin. Toge’s mouth had now made its way to your neck and collarbone, sucking just hard enough to let a dark purple mark form that would definitely show the next day. You didn’t care in the slightest. “All of you… Around me so tightly.”

Your back arched when a shiver ran through it. Toge was a man of few words, but whenever he spoke it never failed to make you feel all giddy inside. Right now your stomach was full of butterflies begging to be released, and he had every intention to help let them out. “Toge, please…”

“Please what?” He answered without hesitation. He knew what you wanted, and he delivered with how he pulled you up onto his lap after desperately yanking your jeans off. Both of you wrestled with the simple pair of pants for a moment, but as soon as they were off his hands were grabbing you like his last meal. “Use your words.” He mumbled in your ear from behind, chest pressed against your back while his arms were wrapped around you to gently squeeze your breasts.

“Please fill me up…” Your cheeks had grown warm. Usually you were not quick to fluster, but this was a side of him you had never seen before and it, in turn, brought a new side out of yourself. He nipped at the lobe of your ear whilst his palms traveled down to your panties, rubbing you through the fabric just to feel how wet you were. Your cunt clenched around nothing and caused you to give a desperate whine. “Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t boss me around,” he rebuked almost immediately. Though, despite his disapproval of your bossy words, he did just as you said and quit with the teasing. Toge was eager to get what he wanted, so he wasted no time pushing those panties to the side and sliding the mushroom-like tip of his perfectly carved cock into your aching hole. He hissed, letting out what seemed to be like a mix of a gasp and a groan into your back, which his lips were pressed up against. His stomach contracted and his hands gripped your waist tighter. “F-… Fuck!”

Meanwhile, you were grabbing onto the headrests of the front seats for dear life while he sunk his dick into you at an unbearably slow pace. You could feel yourself stretching out to welcome him inside, but it was so blissful to be filled to the brim again. Once he bottomed out, he lingered for just long enough to let you fully adjust. He even allowed your hips to wiggle around on his lap.

It wasn’t long before, with the help of his hands on your hips, you were bouncing up and down on his lap. Mind you, you started at a snail’s pace as to not harm yourself, but with a bit of practice you were soon practically slamming yourself down onto him. Every upwards thrust of his hips made you cry out with ecstasy, eyes going cross at the sensation of his tip rubbing against every sensitive spot you had.

The lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass filled the car, and could probably be heard from the outside too. If anyone was passing by, they’d certainly know you were being treated well based on the hardcore shaking and intricate noises coming from within. “Toge,” you panted out. “I want to cum- Please…”

“Can’t deny my girl… Of her orgasm,” he grunted in between soft moans. Toge’s hands held onto you tighter, nails digging into your skin in order to lift you up and then pull you back down onto his length. “Cum for me, then.”

You clenched around him before your walls started to spasm. With one last thrust, you bottomed out again as a cry came from deep within your throat, climbing it’s way out just as your orgasm did. You were covered in sweat when you came down from your high, hands loosely holding on to the front seats now. Inumaki had lazily bucked his hips up into you a few more times before he pulled out, shooting his load all over your back rather than inside.

Pulling you tight to his chest, he slumped against the back seats. Both of you were panting, sweaty messes as you sat there silently trying to recover from that session.

“I learned a lot today,” he finally spoke, making you laugh weakly.

“I bet.”

Guys I. heheh. I felt good writing that.

Side note… I think I would NOT be opposed to people sending in requests for Genshin characters too? I don’t know, I saw this one Tartaglia cosplay that made me go absolutely feral, I’ve been reading and writing so much filth lately. HEHE!!

As always, requests are open. Find more information here…

631 notes · View notes

skteezcursed · 1 month

Text

❝USE ME❞ — h.js.

PAIRING. han jisung x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. friends with benefits. sub! jisung. dom! reader. overstimulation. praising. pet names. kinda power play? (reader is kinda jisung's boss). piv. face riding. oral (f. and m. recieving). unprotected sex (please don't) . based on jisung and reader scene of hsog fic. lmk if i forgot anything.

SYNOPSIS. jisung just want to be a good friend and help you release some stress.

WORD COUNT. 3,7k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. thanks to michi (@cybrsan) for giving me the idea to create this.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraing how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

They all heard the moment something crash and the agonizing scream you let out at the same second. Jisung and Hyunjin, who were closer to the bedroom halls, were quickly close to your door, finding Chan also getting out of his with a distraught expression. The silence that followed your scream made them all wary as Chan indicated all of them to return, finding everyone’s attention on the three boys.

“What happened?”

Naturally, Jeongin was the first to ask, raising his head from Minho’s computer screen.

“It was silent after.”

It was all Hyunjin offered as all the others sigh. They knew you were stressed, the whole situation with the whistleblower taking a toll on you, knowing the superiors had called both you and Yang for questioning as to why the prisoner had been terminated, and only after the evidence were laid out was that you were cleared, but not before a private conversation with one of the superiors.

“Shouldn’t we check up on her?”

Chaeryeong was the first to ask what everyone was thinking, their head snapping to Chan who had been the last to talk to you before you head to the room.

“Okay -”

“I’ll go,” Jisung said quickly, receiving a curious stare from everyone before sighing. “We know she won’t talk, the silence was probably because she knows we may have heard it and she doesn’t want us to question it.”

“She has been pretty stressed lately…”

Ryujin words travelled through the room. Everyone knew that they could only get so much from you, if you didn’t want to talk, there was no way they could find out what was on your mind.

“Jisung is the best option,” Minho said, checking some of the footage from when the system was connected by you. The look on your face was the same one he had seen prior, you were gathering your thoughts, something was troubling you, and you were now frustrated because you couldn’t visualize it, or a way out of whatever it was you found. “She won’t talk, she’s too into her head, and he’s the body language expert.”

After a moment of silence and mumbles from everyone while Jeongin and Chan were having a secret conversation, Jisung was eyeing the bedroom halls every five seconds. No one but you had access to the surveillance on the leaders room and they could only see it with you allowing them, which didn’t help the jitters going down everyone’s spine.

They had just arrived at their destination, having to stay there for at least a week until headquarters decided it was okay for them to return, but you had seen something and you wouldn’t tell them until you were sure, that’s the only thing they knew for sure.

“Okay,” Chan’s words broke the silence making all eyes snap at him as his focus was on Jisung, “try to figure it out what happened, I don’t care how, all I want is for her to be okay, we don’t care what you do to make that happen.”

That was a silent conversation, one that everyone knew what meant and why it was spoken like that. Jisung could feel the jitters in the pit of his stomach; he refused to call them butterflies, because that implied things he shouldn’t be having, not towards you. No strings attached, that was the agreement everyone had, yet here he was looking like a teenager with a crush going towards your door room, knocking lightly as he eyed everyone still in the Communication Center. He knocked again, stronger this time, did he sound desperate? Because he thought he was.

He was about to knock a second time when the door lock was turned and the handle was turned, opening to the sight of you in nothing but a towel wrapped around your torso, hair still humid from the shower you probably took prior to the scream, so maybe you had a realization of something while on the shower? The small sigh that left your lips already told Jisung what you were going to say.

“Ji, I’m so-”

The touch of his lips on yours was for nothing more than to shut you up, which you caught up quickly. His eyes traveling through your body, face, hair, lips, eyes and back to your lips slightly agape from what had happened. Yet, here you waited for what Jisung wanted, making him swallow dry before taking a step forward, noticing how you didn’t stop him or walked away.

“No need to say anything,” his hands found your waist, his mouth finding the corner of your own, a light push and you two were inside your room, Jisung's foot pushing the door, closing it behind him, who pulled you closer, connecting your mouths again. “I heard you, we all heard you.”

“I’m sorry Ji, but -��

“No need,” he already knew you didn’t want to talk, your body and face only confirmed it for him when the door opened, he could also see the tension on your body, how stressed you were, you needed to relax and he knew exactly how to make that happen. "Use me."

“Jisung? What?"

“Use,” a kiss on your jaw, “me,” another kiss under your ear that made a small moan leave your mouth and you felt a small smile form on Jisung’s mouth. “I’m yours to do with as you please,” you pulled away meeting his eyes, his hands firmly on your waist, trapping you against his body. “You can use me to make yourself feel better, as long as you get better.”

Your eyes roamed every corner of Jisung's face before your lips found his again, your feet already guiding the two of you to the bed as you tried to make your mind forget everything that had happened since the moment you found Shinwoo's basketball a few hours ago.

It worked until your backpack fell to the ground, the noise of the drone against the ground bringing you back for a moment, your eyes falling on the backpack as Jisung kissed your neck, moving down until he found the pendant that rested between the valley of your still hidden breasts.

Jisung's eyes searched for yours, indicating the necklace. Everyone knew that necklace was important to you, but this was a subject that you had never talked about with any of them and you wouldn't, everyone respected your decision, but everyone knew that in moments like that, you always took it off, or rather, asked whoever was with you to take it off, which was what Jisung was doing now, as he kissed every part of your skin, helping your mind not to think about whatever it was that troubled you now. Or even all the things prior to right now. He wanted you to not think, and he was gonna make sure of that.

All you needed was a distraction, and he was gonna be exactly that to you.

His right hand caressed your thigh as his left held your head, a trail of wet kisses being left from your ear to the valley of your breasts, making him eye you again, waiting for confirmation you were okay with it, that he could take the necklace off. To his surprise you brought his face up, crashing both your lips as your heels locked on his thigh pulling him to you, a small whimper leaving Jisung’s lips as he felt a smirk forming.

“Please Ji, make me forget.”

It was all he needed to take of your necklace putting on the nightstand, not missing how your eyes followed every movement before finding Jisung’s dark ones, making a sly smile appear on your lips as his mouth found your neck, his hands quickly opening the towel allowing his digits to mark your skin as his kisses went lower, finding your uncovered breasts.

As his left hand cupped your right breast, his mouth fully sucked on your left, making a loud moan left your mouth as your right hand went for his head, pulling the hair slightly making him whimper against your breast.

“Fuck don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” You playfully said as you pulled his hair again making his mouth fully detach from your hardened nipple, a groan being followed as he already had hooded eyes. “That?”

“Y-yes,” as your fingers started to caress his scalp leaning his head back into your breast, he left a ‘thank you’ murmur before he bit down your nipple making you moan. “Now, let me take care of you, please.”

Although you loved when Jisung was doming, having him whimper and plead for you was just as exhilarating. His left hand never leaving your right breast, pitching the nipple from time to time as he leaves red and purple marks all over your neck and breasts. When his hands weren’t on your breasts, they were holding you down from your waist as you started to move your hips and pull him closer, but he wanted to push you, he wanted you to use him, the only way that could happen was if he pushed all your buttons.

“Take off your clothes, now,” the demand that came with your voice made Jisung smile widely, he had finally made it, just after a few purple marks and his hands lingering a little too close to your heat. As he obliged to your demand, you watched him carefully, God he had a body made by the best sculptures of Heaven. Your hands greedly pulled him in by the waist, his hard cock already millimeters of your face, glistening with precum, making you smirk as you eyed him from below, lips slightly touching his length. “You are so pretty for me Ji, you know that, don’t you my pretty baby boy?”

The whimper that left Jisung’s mouth at that, followed quickly by a loud moan as your lips finally touched his cockhead, making him throw his head backwards while jolting his hips forwards, trying to fully be in your mouth, and you let it, at first. Taking half of his size inside your mouth, feeling him twitch as your nails scratched his lower abdomen.

Your tongue swirling around his head as you squeezed the other half that was out of your mouth from time to time. The noises coming out of his mouth only hitting your dripping cunt as you finally took him out, the line of saliva mixed with the precum connecting your mouth with his red leaking cockhead.

“I was good, why -”

“You know the rules, I cum first,” you bat your eyelashes at him as both your knees found the mattress walking away from him, allowing him to sit on the bed as he quickly did, boba eyes filled with lust eyeing you as your hand cupped his cheeks binging him into a sloppy kiss. His moan was loud as he felt his taste on your tongue. Your hand pressing down his chest while his hands found your waist and thigh, pulling you to straddle him. “Now, put that mouth to good use, yes?”

“Can I also touch you?”

“You can, but I’ll set the pace,” your hand grabbed his hair again as a whimper left his mouth making you smile, “now, can I ride your face, Ji? Will you be okay with that?”

He nodded as best as he could while you pulled his hair even more, feeling his cock twitch under you, as your soaked cunt slid back and forth, his hands already grabbing your waist and hips, only so slightly while his fingers dig into your flesh. You pulled his hair again increasing the movement of your hips, your available hand holding his jaw making him open his eyes and look at you.

“Use me as you please, I’m nothing but a fucktoy for you right now.”

“Such a pretty boy, you are,” you kissed him one last time disconnecting your cunt from his cock, receiving another complaining moan, “ah, if you are gonna complain, then you shouldn’t have my -”

“No! No, please, please, I’ll be good, I’m sorry, let me taste you, please, sit on my face, I don’t care if I can’t breathe, I just need to taste you, please.”

You smirked at the panic in his eyes, you knew he could please you in other ways, although you loved his mouth, his abs and thighs had also always done a good job, but never as good as the feeling of his tongue against your folds. You kept caressing his cheek as you climbed up, only stopping when your wet cunt was exactly above his mouth, your hand scratching his scalp.

As his hands moved to find your waist, he noticed you had both legs on top of his biceps, allowing him to only reach your thigh at best. A smirk formed on your lips as you pulled his hair before sitting against his open mouth feeling his nose against your clit as his tongue quickly found your wet folds.

You started to rock your hips against him as you felt his fingers dig on your thighs. The sounds coming from both of you increasing considerably the warmth forming on your stomach. As you felt your thighs tremble, your available hand went to Jisung’s hip bone in hopes of helping you maintain some sort of control over the situation, only then noticing he was moving it around, making you eye him confused, but never stopping your movements.

He was fucked out and you have barely touched him, making you then look behind you, his red angry leaking cock making your mouth water. You elevated yourself from his face, laughing a little as you heard both a whine and a heavy breath. As you moved your legs, he noticed you had freed his arms, making him quickly wrap them around your waist, a giggle leaving your lips.

“Make me cum Ji, and you’ll get your reward.”

Only then your hand found his hot cock, fingers squeezing it making a loud guttural moan erupt from his throat making you clench around nothing. Without another word his arms pulled you down on his face, his lips attaching to your clit sucking it harshly as you felt of his hands go down your ass, giving a hard slap as making you gasp loudly and squeeze his dick before using your thumb to spread the precum leaking from the head, using to jerk him off while giving random squeezes whenever his tongue would go inside you making his nose deliciously press against your clit.

Your hand movements stopped the moment you felt the heat build up fast on your lower abdomen, your hips moving on its own as you pulled his hair, the other hand going to the pillow to help you stabilize as you rocked your hips against Jisung’s face chasing your own high. Which came with a loud cried moan before you felt something hot on your back and ass, finding Jisung’s hand on his cock, white hot stripes of cum still leaking from his cock.

The moment your eyes met his fucked out face, glassy eyes and how much of your arousal was painting his nose, mouth and chin, you reconsidered being mean to him, after all, he had been so good to you.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Oh Ji, it’s okay, truly,” your fingers played with the cum that was on his abdomen as you got up and back from his face, his glassy eyes following your every move, knowing you were preparing something, “I used you already, we both came, you can leave -”

“No, please, I -”

“Ji, it’s fine, really,” you laughed at his panic making him sigh as he sat up straight, “but I would like to do something,” although his cock was soft, you noticed the twitch happen when your fingers lightly touched the length, noticing how Jisung bit his bottom lip, “because I’m feeling rather empty right now…”

“Fuck…,” you giggle as you felt his hands on your back, the sticky cum on his fingers. “Let me clean you up first,” before you could respond, he got up taking a hand towel, you heard the water running and smiled at yourself, you were lucky to have him on your team, you were lucky to have him either way if you were honest. “What’s with the smile?”

Your head shot up at that, finding his amused smile as one of his hands was on your shoulders and you felt the wet cloth against your skin making you shiver slightly, getting a giggle from Jisung.

“It’s nothing, I just… I just feel lucky to have you and the rest of the team, I like how we manage to understand each other.”

“Fucking someone kinda have that effect, you -”

“It’s not just about the fucking, Ji,” your eyes met his as he went to clean the mess between your legs, only then you noticed how his face no longer had your arousal all over it, making you want to ride him all over again, “I genuinely love our dynamics, even before we all started fucking around.”

“You getting soft, (y/n),” he laughed as he pulled you into his lap, discarting the towel somewhere as he made you straddle him, “can’t say I dislike when I get to see you like this.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Ji.”

“We don’t need to,” he says, kissing my neck once again, his hands roaming your body before one of his arms goes around your waist as the other grabs your ass cheek squeezing it harshly making you whimper against him. “Tell me what you want and I’ll deliver, please, I just want to make you feel good, boss.”

“Fuck Ji, I need you inside,” your hand goes to the back finding his half-hard cock before putting the tip at your wet entrance, “fill me up, stay with me for a bit, please.”

“Anything for you,” his kisses find your neck once again as you can feel his teeth bite against your skin as his cock fills you up, making both of you moan. “You are so perfect, God I could easily live on this pussy of yours.”

You giggle as you clench around his length, feeling it twitch inside of you as Jisung groans against your neck. His hands roam your body, nails digging occasionally on your skin as you two find each other on a heated kiss.

“Bet I can make you cum by just this,” you say jokingly, feeling his hard cock twitch again by your phrase and clench, a smirk on your lips, “make you melt under me but barely doing anything to you.”

The whimper that left his mouth as your nails traveled his body scratching lightly through the hot skin made you bite your lip as you watched him break under you.

“Please, ple-please do,” you feel his hips jolt up as you clench around him again and laugh against his ear as you leave a trail of kisses from ear to ear. “Fuck, I can’t, I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? But I barely started,” you say, pushing him down on the bed again, his hands firmly on your waist and hip, “you only cum when I tell you, understand?” He nods as his lustful eyes wander across your body. “That’s my pretty good boy.”

“Call me that again, please,” he pleaded as your hands went to his pecs as you started to move up and down his length, just enough to tease you both. One of his hands went down as his thumb found your clit, already putting pressure there as he held your hips strongly making you look at him curiously. “Let me, I promise I’ll make you cum, let me make you feel good.”

The nod was slow, but the smirk was all the answer Jisung needed as he held you a little higher, before keep playing with your clit, only the tip of his cock inside of you, but he held you up whenever you tried to go down, until his hand leaves your clit finding your breasts, slapping them before squeeze them against his fingers, bringing a loud moan to your mouth as he started to push his cock inside you strongly and take it out slowly.

Noises started to fill your room again as Jisung’s cock started to fill you up faster, making you bounce slightly as you feel it turn sloppier, the build up in your stomach growing. AS quickly as you could, you took his hand from your hip and waist pulling it up to your breasts as you forced him onto the bed before rocking your hips back and forth. The friction from your clit sends electric waves to your body helping you find your high.

“Fuck, just like that Ji, it feels so good.”

“Your pussy is made for my cock, fuck! Please don’t stop–FUCK–your cunt is so good (y/n), fu-fuck, don’t clench like that, I won’t last…”

“Just a little longer, Ji, for– fuck! – for me, ple-please…”

Your voice is low and pleading, not much different from the man under you as you scream out a moan as he squeezes one of your nipples and slaps the other one at the same time. At this point all you can do is arch your back in search for more contact with his hands, your legs are burning from all the riding, but your orgasm is too close to let go.

Jisung’s grip on your breasts tighten as you know he’s close, the sweet nothings coming from his mouth only helping you reach your high. As your legs start to tremble furiously, his hands find your hips again as his hips jolt up, hitting your cervix making you scream as you let your body fall forward, both of you a moaning mess as you feel your whole body heat up, clenching around him one last time before cumming on his cock, him following right behind as his seeds mix up with your juice.

“Fuck, that was–”

“Fucking amazing,” you curse as you lift your head from the crook of his neck, finding his lips one more time, feeling him still inside you. “Thank you Ji, you are perfect.”

“Anything for my favorite girl.”

taglist: @straykidsholicleigh | @tinyelfperson | @taehyuncult |

general masterlist here ♡

here's the link for the permanent taglist ♡ !

network: @cultofdionysusnet♡

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

#cultofdionysusnet #yaya.hjs #yaya.skzimg #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung stray kids #han jisung oneshot #han jisung skz #han jisung imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios

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sluttsumu · 1 year

Text

let me live my fratboy!inarizaki dream okay?

chars: ‘tsumu, osamu, suna, & kita

nsfw — mdni, tw: corruption

fratboy!atsumu who is literally the worst person alive, but he’s hot and a good fuck so it makes it okay, okay?

he’s fucked every girl from his fan club and every bimbo on campus but that’s not what satisfies him at all. prissy, hard-to-get girls with their hymens still intact really turns him on. why? because he enjoys the chase of a women who won’t instantly fall to her knees for him. secretly finding information about his next target so he could casually end up in the same study period, or walking along the same path just so he could talk to her. it could be labeled kind ‘stalkery’ but he labeled it as persistent, because at the end of the day once her manicure was clawing at his back it’s mission accomplished, and onto the next. “you didn’t think i actually wanted you? did you” he’d chuckle in the faces of the girls who looked at him with tears in their eyes, he figured that in the end they would end up blaming themselves for fucking a known whore anyway.

fratboy!suna whose an old money nepo-baby, in which he flashes his parents cash to attract gold digger, wannabe future housewives.

slut is an understatement, calculated whore is a better term. as a psyc major he’s the king of gaslighting and manipulation, AND THE GIRLS EAT IT UP. unlike atsumu he somewhat puts in the effort to finding a girlfriend, but there’s always a new one…every month. being sly and cunning is genetic according to him, it’s also the same way he manipulates girls into not wearing condoms. “c’mon pretty, how’re gonna give me an heir with latex in the way, hmm?” and it works every time. every selfish, greedy girlfriend he’s had falls for his antics in hopes to marry their way into his family, and give him a baby. let’s just say the only “compensation” they got was from a therapist or him buying them off to get a plan b the next morning.

fratboy!kita who is literally so smart he manages to y= m (x+d)^2 + k, girls into his bed.

it’s all so innocent at first when he offers to carry a certain girls books, and that turns into him sitting next to her in class. it’s cute from a far, isn’t it? when in reality he’s just singled out the classes bimbo in hopes to tutor her. day by day he’d observe while sitting next to her, as she’d glance over at him to catch him staring from time to time. she thought that he was maybe admiring how pretty she was or caught on to her perfume of the day, but that was never the case. in his mind he was practically drooling over the way her tits spilled out of her shirt, or when they had a test and he could tell she stayed up all night because she looked completely fucked out. after her whining a few times about her grades he offered to help, which just turned into him making her that much dumber by fucking her over his desk till she was babbling. “stupid girls fall into stupid traps” he’d say, and the fact that he did this every semester meant that he was always right.

fratboy!osamu who is literally the most nonchalant asshole known around the entire campus.

osamu was too persuasive for his own good. he could never hold a solid relationship or friendship with anyone of the opposing gender, why? because he ends up fucking all of his female friends, and then ghosting them not even 24 hours after. his tricks were the same with every girl, and a night out with him always turned into the walk of shame the following morning. the only notifications any girl would receive from him afterwards is a copy of their intoxicated sex tape which most don’t remember making and a follow up message saying “my friends think you look really good on camera btw”. confronting him after study hall the next day wouldn’t change a thing, simply because the only response he’d give was “do i know you?”

SLUTTSUMU 2023

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moumouton4 · 6 months

Note

PLEASE DI THE FREINDS WITH BENEFITS WOTH ADRIAN/CAHT NOIR🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 IM SO INTERESTED. maybe Adrian and reader like have a thing going on secretly and get give each other longing glances, like a have lidded gaze or something. Please my Curiosity is getting the best of me

Friends With Benefits || Adrien Agreste x reader

A/n : This is something I've been thinkg about since I started writing fics ! I hope y'all will like it 😍 It's gender neutral but I had a female in mind when I wrote

Warnings : no mention of gender for reader, friends with benetifs, slight exhibitionism, shower sex, wall sex, piano sex ?, rough sex, soft sex, mention of erection, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 910

There is definitely something going on between the two of you. Though no one seems to have noticed for now. There is only Marinette who is suspecting you, but she suspecting everyone so you know she isn’t a threat

He introduced you as a childhood friend but in reality you’ve only known each other for less than a year

You met one day as he was on his way back home as he was still in his Chat Noir outfit. He still had some time when he spotted you, so he decided to try his chance and talk to you

To his surprise you were as interested as he was. And even if at first he was a bit wary about letting you discover his true identity, after some time and because of how horny you were you just couldn't resist but jump each other’s bones

Since that day you’ve been friends with benefits. He’d come to you after a long day as a hero in Paris to release that pent up energy or after whatever the hell he did either it was for school or for his work

He is addicted to you, and you to him. You see each other at least once a week, it’s usually three or four times a week. Either at yours or at his home

Depending on how tired you both are you’re either going to fuck like you’ve never before or cockwarm him. It really depends. Sometimes he is more into making some cocky and teasing jokes, resulting in some giggly sex. But it’s also most of the time so intense it leaves you both breathless

One of his favorite thing is having you nice and slow in his bed, but sometimes fucking you against the tiled wall of his shower is everything he needs to finish his day smoothly

He also takes you on his piano

You’re always careful not to leave any bite or purplish mark on his skin in places that aren’t covered with clothes

He is shameless about leaving some on you though. You’re his and even if people don’t have this detail, they will at least know you’re taken

Poor baby is bad at relationship but he still want you for himself

You guys had had sex in a lot of unusual places. Either on the top of historical monuments like the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe but also on the roofs of buildings in the warm summer evenings. He’d set a blanket there and you’d cuddle some time before getting started

The tension between you two when you’re in the same room is unbearable, but since everyone think you’re friends, no one catch it

His eyes are always on you, piercing and following your every move as if he was in his cat costume. There is no part of you that is left unexplored. If your cleavage is in display his eyes are going to drown in between the tender flesh and if your pants leaves no doubt about the curves of your ass and thighs his eyes will be stuck on them too

If your sitting side by side his hand will surely caress your leg under the table

But most of the time - and since then you joined the class - the only thing he can do during those moments is to send you long and ardent gazes. You’re the only thing he is interested and attuned to at the moment

His eyes squint slightly as he gives you another longing glance. He feels so horny right now and the tent in his pants gives it all away. He has 45 more minutes to calm down before the end of the class

At the end of the class you go to your locker. Classes just ended and you just want to go home and lie down while chilling. The room is currently empty but behind you feel a hot breath grazing your neck. Then an arm circles your waist and draw you nearer

The smell of his cologne makes it clear for you that it’s Adrien. You lean against him and his strong arms hold you tighter

“‘missed you a lot in there” his fingers played teasingly with the help of your shirt “What about tonight 21:00 at yours ?” ( 21:00 = 9 pm )

“I’ll be waiting for you then” you whispered, so that if anyone was around they couldn't hear you

“I’ll be looking forward to this princess” he murmured before planting a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth

When you turned around he saw the smirk on your face “What is it about ?”

You pointed at the tent in his blue jeans

“Shoot !” he muttered “J-just get back home safely o-okay. I’ll take care of this” he looked around to be sure no one was in sight

“You sure ? I could lend a hand”

He blushed, shaking his head, he just knew that if you guys were to start something there you wouldn’t be finished at least an hour after the school closes “Yep I’ll be quick. See you later beautiful” he gave you a quick kiss before carefully making his way out and unnoticed of the locker room

At the end of the day ( pun unitented ) he got to your home 30 minutes earlier than intended

But it was all all the thrill of being his friend with benefits after all, a surprise was always hidden behind another

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rodolfoparras · 7 months

Note

But like instead of sugar daddy Price how about sugar baby Price.

Thinking about Sugar Baby!Price

Pairing: John Price x Male Reader

Cw: power dynamic, sugar daddy/ sugar baby dynamic, age gap,

Thinking about Sugar baby! Price who signed up to a sugar baby/ daddy website in an attempt to earn some money on the side but because of his age he only gets a handful of matches and those that he gets never lead to dates.

But one day, after going without a match for a good couple of weeks, he gets matched with someone.

At first Price is confused because in his preferences he clearly states that he would rather be matched with a woman but on his screen there’s a picture of you, a man, who looks to be much younger than he is. By looking further into your profile, he sees that you’re a successful businessman, who’s looking for a date to attend with you to events and he can also see you’ve got no gender preference.

So it couldn’t have been a mistake right?

But Price is still hesitant because he’s never been on a date with a man and he’s heard his fair share of horror stories of sugar daddies from the women that frequented the same site, but money is money and Price finds himself accepting the offer.

However as he drives over to the restaurant he can’t keep doubts from creeping into his head, wondering if there’s a slight chance that you’re expecting a woman on this date.

But all doubts disappear when he walks through the door only to be met with the sight of your smiling face as you go to pull out a chair for him.

So far you seem polite, charming even and you look really handsome. Price might have only dated women before but he can admit when a man looks good. However looks can be deceiving and behind that exterior there might be someone that’s expecting more of him, something more like sex.

Just hearing the word echoing in his head has his throat drying up as he fiddles with the napkin in his hand. “I’d like to make one thing clear, I’m perfectly okay with dates but anything past that-“

He’s abruptly cut off by you, a chore of no’s escaping your lips as you frantically wave your hands in the air.

“Oh no no no I don’t do that I don’t sleep with uh my clients”

Oh, okay. Good.

“I didn’t think-“ he shakes his head, looking down at the table, feeling his neck, ears and cheeks burn.

“Don’t get me wrong,sir-“

“John” the older man corrects, looking up at you beneath long black lashes and you feel heat creep up your own neck, ears and cheek.

“Don’t get me wrong John, you’re very attractive,” you say with a soft smile still displayed on your face, but the only thing he can focus on is your words.

Attractive .

Attractive ?

You found him attractive.

“But I’m just looking for a date to attend with me to different type of events,”

Price who’s still lost in the thought that you find him attractive only nods his head and the two of you proceed to order dinner.

The date goes exceptionally well. For whatever reason you seem more interested in hearing him talk about himself rather than talking about yourself.

Although it may sound wrong in someone’s ear, he can’t help but love how much attention you’re paying to him.

You even drive him home instead of asking your Chauffeur to do so and you don’t leave until he’s safe inside his house.

When he goes inside he almost feels like a teenager, face flushed hair mussed, hands jittery and you haven’t even done anything!

And when he gets a text asking for another date he happily agrees to it.

Date after date and you continue to stick to your words, never initiating anything that might make him uncomfortable but for whatever reason Price is unable to shake the feeling of disappointment that starts to grow inside of him.

The doubts that have made home in his mind start telling him that maybe you don’t even find him attractive.

Price isn’t stupid he knows he isn’t young anymore, that he isn’t the most desirable bachelor in the world but that doesn’t mean that it hurts any less knowing that you don’t find him attractive.

However things take a turn one day, when the two of you are trying out suits that he can wear for an event.

As he stands there in the changing room, looking at his reflection in the mirror, he can’t help but feel a surge of confidence running through his body.

For the first time in a while he feels attractive. You’d gone out of your way to get a tailored suit for him even though he’d vehemently denied it, fearing it’d be too expensive and that he had a perfectly fine suit somewhere buried inside of his closet.

But now that he’s looking at himself he can’t help but feel immensely thankful for your kind gesture because the suit hugs his curves so well, the rich black color compliments his skin tone beautifully, and there’s even a pop of blue in his pockets and buttons that match the color of his eyes.

Prior to this you even made sure he got a haircut and trimmed his mutton chops.

“I have to admit, I’ll miss these curls” you say while running a hand through his sandy brown hair, and once again he feels heat creep up his cheeks neck and ears “But Marisa knows what she’s doing”

And he couldn’t agree more, whilst looking at himself in the mirror, hair much shorter now and slicked back, with facial hair trimmed and showing off the sharpness of his features.

When he walks out to show you the outfit, he hears a small gasp escape your lips while your eyes trail down his body.

Once again he can feel heat creeping up on him but he also feels a surge of confidence- a sense of power for having affected you in this way.

You finally manage to pull your eyes away from him, awkwardly clearing your throat as you go to speak “you look good John, really good” you say the second part quieter.

He manages to respond with a smooth thank you, tone sounding like the one he only ever used to charm his late wife, even biting back a smirk while saying that.

On the night of the event the two of you almost seem to be glued to each other. You don’t do anything to overstep boundaries but he can see the way your gaze is trained on him, the way you keep almost a possessive hand on his hip and the compliments that just keep rolling off your tongue while chatting with him.

When the night nears to an end and you’re walking him to his door he can’t help but get lost in his thoughts, in the feeling of you arm slung over his shoulder the smell of your cologne and the compliments that never seem to stop rolling off your tongue.

It all ends with him uttering the words “would you like to come in?” you freeze in your step and fall silent for a moment before finding your words again “Are you sure we don’t have to-

“I want to” he croaks out, throat suddenly feeling dry “I really really want to”

#there will be more parts Mwah #I didn’t want to jam it all into one #you have found my weekness anonie bc I love this trope #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #bottom male character #adding this tag bc eventually it’ll get there

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nunalastor · 2 months

Note

I can say as a demiromantic the Alastor shipping discourse just gets so fuckin tiring.

Like I hate it that the minute a character is confirmed to be ace, everyone and their mother immediately labels them as sex-repulsed and considers shipping said character a crime worthy of the death penalty. It’s not the “respect” they think it is. All this does is erase other identities on the asexual spectrum. All it does is allow misconceptions about asexuality to continue to be spread. All it does is push closet asexuals who may not feel sex-repulsion further deep into denial and in the closet.

I get being this defensive if, say, an irl celebrity came out as ace and expilictly stated to stop drawing porn and shipping them with people. But a fictional character? Really? Does the feelings of a god damn fictitious deer cannibal matter more to these people than an irl person? A person who could potentially just be trying to create a relatable rep for how they experience their asexuality?

I understand representation in the media is important. However, not everyone experiences things in the exact same way. Wether that be in how one experiences their gender, sexuality, disability, etc. That’s why VARIED representation is even more important. We’re not a hive mind. We’re people with our own thoughts and opinions. Our own experiences. And we deserve to be heard.

Now, while I don’t necessarily like most Alastor ships (nothing against them, just can’t see most of them happening) I’m not gonna burn someone at the stake for having a different opinion than I do. It’s not my problem.

Moral of the story: I just wish people would stop harassing others for having a different opinion then them

(Also personal HC of mine is that Al is Demi-Aroace but that’s just me lmao)

👏

#hazbin hotel #hazbin discourse #radioapple #appleradio #lucifer #alastor #radio apple #apple radio #nunalastor asks

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its-straykeedz · 9 months

Text

silver lining; myg

pairing: min yoongi x afab!reader

established relationship!au; marriage!au; pregnancy!au

rating: fluff, smut, angst;

wc: 7,4 k

MINORS DNI!

TW: language; mentions of infertility; conceiving difficulty; mature contents; explicit sexual scene [but like sweet lovemaking]: piv, unprotected sex & cream🥧 (for a purpose), car seggs; heavy themes such as: mentions of an unplanned pregnancy, mentions of a miscarriage, mentions of abortion; Yoongi being so soft it breaks my poor little heart; mentions of a pregnancy scare; mentions of a teenage pregnancy; (please let me know if I forgot something)

Disclaimer: all of my works are entirely fictional and do not represent the characters involved in any way, I just write my fics for fun.

There are a few Korean words in this fic, such as: jagiya, which is a gender-neutral pet name; appa, which means “dad”; eomma, which means “mom”; jal ja, which means “good night”.

Please keep in mind that English is not my first language, therefore feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes or typos!

☔︎

“He’s so pretty…”, you murmur, holding little Jisung, Taehyung’s son, in your arms, gently rocking him, watching as his little eyes peacefully close as he falls asleep. “I want one…”, you whisper, gently caressing the baby’s soft hair.

“I know you do, jagiya.”, Yoongi wraps his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you close, careful not to wake the baby up. He places a soft kiss on your temple, as his hand caresses the skin of your bare shoulder. “I want one, too.”

You and Yoongi’ve been trying to get pregnant for years now. You’d started trying before he even proposed to you, and now you’ve been married for over two years and still nothing. It crushes Yoongi’s heart knowing that he still hasn’t been able to give you the thing you want the most: a family.

“I think I’d be a great mom.”, he hears you sniffle, but you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re looking at the baby in your arms, carefully wrapped in a sage green blanket, with a little pacifier with a bunny on it in his little mouth.

“You will be the best mom in the world, jagiya.”, he places another kiss on your head, and he lingers a bit. “We just have to wait a little longer.”, he wants to reassure you that everything’s gonna be okay, that you’ll have the family you dream of, that you’ll finally welcome a child to the world, but he can’t. He can’t make a promise he’s not sure he can keep.

“I love you so much, Yoongi.”, you whisper, leaning in to kiss him on the lips, but you’re interrupted by Jisung’s stirring, right before he bursts into a loud cry, and Taehyung immediately rushes towards to you, ready to pick his baby up and soothe him.

☔︎

The sensation of Yoongi’s delicate, long fingers brushing against your soft skin is familiar to you, but it makes you shiver nonetheless. He caresses your breasts as he places a series of wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and collar bone, squeezing one of your nipples between his index and thumb, earning a muffled moan from you in response.

His hand sluggishly moves all over your waist and pelvis, until you feel him place his thumb on your clit, as he keeps thrusting in and out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace, repeatedly brushing over your g-spot with the tip of his dick. He starts moving it in a circular motion, and you let out a timid moan, which only encourages him to repeat the action again and again, until you’re a whimpering mess under him.

“‘m about to cum, jagi…”, he groans in your ear.

“Me too…”, you pant, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with Yoongi kissing your neck and working your clit at the same time. “Please don’t stop.”, you whimper, encouraging him to go faster.

“I love you so much, jagi…”, he lets out a groan as soon as he feels you clench around him, and he finally cums inside you, before collapsing on your naked body, sweaty and exhausted. You run your hand though his soft, black hair, then place a tender kiss on his head resting on your bare chest. “I love you too, so much. So, so much, Yoongi…”

He notices that something’s off, by the way you shift uncomfortably under him and by the way your hand, the one that was caressing his hair, stops moving. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, though, and simply lifts up and retrieves his body from between your thighs, before heading to the bathroom to grab you a towel to clean yourself from his cum, that’s slowly dripping out of you.

Once he lays down next to you, in the darkness of your bedroom, and hugs your body close to his from behind, you can’t help but let a few tears slip from your eyes. You hope he doesn’t hear your muffled sniffles, but he does. He does, and tears well up in his eyes too, because he knows the exact reason why you’re crying and it kills him that he can’t take your pain away.

He places soft, delicate kisses on your bare shoulder, but suddenly stops when you call his name. “Yoongi…”, your voice trembles as you fight back the tears. “Why don’t we just…”, you take a deep breath, not sure you even want to say it out loud. “Why don’t we just stop trying?”

Yoongi feels as if his heart just stopped beating once he hears those words come out of your mouth. What is he supposed to say? He knows he can’t make the situation any better, but it hurts him too, he just wishes you knew that. It hurts his heart the way he sees you crying on the bathroom floor with a pregnancy test in your hands, negative every damn time; he was heartbroken too when Taehyung’d given him and his friends the news that he was soon going to become a father.

“Jagi…”, he intertwines his fingers with yours, his voice trembles as his lower lip quivers, signaling he’s about to cry, too. “Are you sure? Do you… do you want to give up?”

You bite your lower lip so hard you can almost taste blood in your mouth. The thought of giving up on having a family with the love of your life makes you feel weak, but at the same time, it’s just too much for you to handle right now. You and Yoongi have been together for many years, you’d started dating when you were in high school, and the moment you met him, you instantly knew he was the one.

You’ve always wanted to become a mother someday. As for Yoongi, he never knew how much he wanted to become a husband and a father until the day he met you. You were both really, really young to even think about having kids or getting married, but it was nice to know that you were on the same page, at least.

When you decided to finally start trying for a baby, you were twenty-three and he was twenty-four. Luckily, both you and Yoongi had already graduated and had stable and well payed jobs, plus you were already living together, so a baby would fit just perfect.

But now, after nearly three years of trying… you’ve almost lost hope.

“I just don’t want to go through all this anymore… the hope I feel every time my period’s late and how it gets crushed the moment I take a pregnancy test and only one damn line shows up…”, you sigh, swallowing the lump in your throat, as you feel Yoongi’s body stiffen behind yours. “I don’t want to feel that kind of pain anymore, Yoongi, it breaks my heart.”

You feel something wet on your shoulder, and that’s how you realize that Yoongi’s crying as well. “Jagi…”, he murmurs, holding you even tighter than he already was. “I’m so sorry, jagiya, so, so sorry…”, he manages to say between sobs, “I want to give you the family we’ve been dreaming of, I want to give you the world…”

You try to turn your body so that you’re now facing him, but struggle a bit, since Yoongi’s holding you a bit too tight, but you somehow manage to do so. When you meet his eyes, you notice his cheeks are flooded with tears, his nose is a bit runny. You cup his face in your hands, brushing away a couple of dark locks from his eyes, then you place a soft, chaste kiss on his plump lips.

“I love you so much, Yoongi…”, you kiss him again, wiping away some tears from his face. “You make me the happiest, it’s just… it gets too much sometimes, I feel like maybe we should take a break from trying, maybe we’re just stressing too much about it.”

He just nods with his head, and this time it’s him who kisses you softly. “Anything for you, jagiya.”

☔︎

Yoongi feels his legs shake and his head starts to spin as soon as he processes his friend’s words. “What?”, he blinks a few times, speechless, secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, he misheard what Taehyung had said.

“Yup, Jihyeon’s pregnant. A couple of months already.”, his friends repeats himself, with a big smile on his face. “Jisung’s gonna be a big brother.”

Again?, Yoongi thinks, immediately feeling bad afterwards, but he really can’t help it. Little Jisung’s only, like, nine months old and Taehyung’s girlfriend’s already pregnant again?

He gulps hard, as he feels his palms become sweaty, and his thoughts go immediately to you. Yoongi knows that, if Taehyung’d decided to tell him and the boys the happy news, then his girlfriend Jihyeon probably told you and the other girlfriends already. Shit, he thinks, you’re probably going to be devastated.

You’d decided to take a break from trying, yes, but Yoongi knows you like the back of his hands by now, and he knows that you’re probably breaking down inside. He wonders whether he should text you just to check up on you and see how you were doing, but he then decides not to, just in case Jihyeon didn’t tell you anything about the pregnancy.

But she did. She announced her second pregnancy with the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face, practically shoving her ultrasounds to you and the other girls’ faces. The other girlfriends are all happily cheering and smiling and laughing and you can’t take it anymore. You feel like you’re the worst friend ever, but you really have to force yourself to smile, because it’s just too underwhelming.

“I didn’t know you and Taehyung were trying again.”, Chaerin, Namjoon’s girlfriend, says to Jihyeon, wiggling her eyebrows and playfully elbowing her on the arm.

“We weren’t.”, Jihyeon confesses, blushing a little, and your stomach drops, as your legs begin to shake. “We hadn’t been exactly… careful, so when my period was late we knew there might be a chance, you know?”

You can’t believe it, and you can’t help but feeling a bit angry. You and Yoongi’ve been literally trying for years, and the moment Jihyeon and Taehyung have unprotected sex once she gets pregnant with her second child? This must be one of God’s sick jokes, because seriously, what the fuck?

When Yoongi comes home later that night, he finds you laying on your bed, still with your clothes on, and he can hear your sobs even from the doorstep, and his heart crashes into a million pieces, because he knows. He knows the reason why you’re so sad, and the worst thing is he can’t do anything to make the situation any better. He can’t take your pain away, as much as he wants to.

“Jagiya…”, he murmurs, sitting on the bed next to you. He places his soft hand on your cheek, caressing it with his long fingers, as he feels your hot tears on his skin.

“I… Jihyeon’s…”, you can’t even get the words out of your mouth.

“I know.”, Yoongi interrupts you, and you’re thankful for that, because even saying it out loud makes your heart ache even more. “I know, jagi, I know… I’m so sorry.”, he whispers, placing a warm kiss on your forehead.

“It was unplanned.”, you manage to say, taking a deep breath. “Why us, Yoongi? Why?”, your voice trembles. “We’ve been trying for years after… after…”, you can’t say it out loud, it hurts too much.

And Yoongi knows, because as you speak those words he gulps and closes his eyes, letting the pain sink in at the thought of your miscarriage. His mind goes back to when the doctor told you that your baby didn’t make it, and it hurts him just like that day.

You and Yoongi had decided not to tell anyone about your pregnancy. You’d just found out, plus it was too early to be announcing it to all of your friends and family, and you wanted to keep it just for yourselves for a little while. Until that morning, when you woke up to an unusual pain in your lower abdomen and an unexpected red stain on both your pajamas and bedsheets. And you just knew.

Yoongi didn’t cry then, nor in your gynecologist’s studio when she confirmed your suspicions, because he knew he had to be strong for you, even though it was killing him. He cried in the shower though, when he was alone, where his tears got mixed up with the hot water drops falling on his face, hoping that it’ll somehow erase all the pain he was feeling. It didn’t. He didn’t feel any better, he doesn’t feel any better, he just learned how to live with the weight, instead of being crushed by it.

“I don’t know, jagiya…”, he lets out an hopeless sigh, fighting back his own tears.

“It’s so unfair.”, you snap, not angry at Yoongi, but at your fate. “I want to be a mom, I want it so bad. And then she mentioned she thought about having an abortion, because the thought of having another kid so soon scared her, and I was dying inside.”, you sit up on the mattress, wiping away the dried tears on your face with the hem of your green sweater.

“Yeah, Taehyung told me about it.”, he sighs, letting himself fall on the mattress on his bed, covering his tired face with both of his long, tapered hands. “But it’s not their fault. I mean, they don’t know about our… issue. It doesn’t make me feel better, though.”

“Jihyeon probably hates me.”, you mumble, and Yoongi removes his hands from his face to look at you with a confused look on his face. “I didn’t even want to see the ultrasounds. I just sat there, smiling awkwardly.”

“Taehyung probably hates me, too, then.”, Yoongi comments, as he gets up and starts undressing only to change into his pajamas. “Didn’t wanna see them either. I was the only one.”, he says, unzipping his jeans, as you stare at his half-naked body, because he looks just so gorgeous. “I know it shouldn’t bother me because, as I said before, it’s not their fault, but it’s just so hard to pretend you’re happy when you’re actually not.”, you nod, watching him slip into his pajama pants, the ones you’d bought him last Christmas. “I mean, of course I’m happy for him-“

“I get it.”, you interrupt him. “I feel that way too. I thought that I was just being selfish, though, and I feel so guilty.”, you stand up too, removing your sweater to change into one of Yoongi’s t-shirts, one of your favorite to sleep in.

You lay next to each other, body entangled in the soft cotton sheets, but with your eyes wide open, staring at the white ceiling. Yoongi’s fingers are intertwined with yours, but neither of you dares too speak, too absorbed in your thoughts. You just lay there, wide awake, in complete silence.

“Yoongi?”, you break the silence, but you don’t turn to look at him, too scared that the eye-contact might stop you from asking him what’s on your mind. “Would you still love me? If I couldn’t have kids, I mean… Would you still wanna be with me?”, your voice quivers as you speak the last few words.

“Jagiya.”, Yoongi sounds almost as if he’s scolding you. Little does he know that it’s your worst nightmare. You’re so scared that he’ll leave you if he finds out that you can’t give him the family he wants, that you won’t be carrying his children, that he’ll just leave you for another woman, one who can and will give him what you can’t. “I’ll love you no matter what. Forever. That’s what we promised to each other at the altar, and I do not intend to break that promise.”, his tone is serious, as if he’s almost offended by your question. “You’re the love of my life, jagiya.”

He hears you sniffle, and then he feels your body shift, until you hid your face in the crook of his neck, as he envelopes your body with his muscular arms, caressing your back to soothe you. “What if it’s me?”, he murmurs, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t catch what he says.

“What if it’s you what?”

He gulps hard, his eyes become watery. “What if I can’t give you kids? What if I am the problem?”, you feel something wet fall on your hair, and that’s how you realize that he’s crying. “What if…”, he chokes, “What if you wake up one day and realize that you’re just wasting your time with me? That you could have everything you ever wanted with another man?”

You lift your body to meet Yoongi’s eyes, before placing your cold hand on his cheek, making him shiver at the sudden feeling. “Yoongi…”, you brush the tip of your nose against his, “You’re all I ever wanted.”

☔︎

“Oh my God, we’re… the worst babysitters ever.”, you say between moans, as you sink down on Yoongi’s lap once more, allowing him to go even deeper.

You don’t know exactly how you and Yoongi ended up having sex in the backseats of his car, parked right in the path that runs along Taehyung and Jihyeon’s backyard. Thankfully, it’s dark outside and there’s no one around, otherwise you’d be screwed. Taehyung and Jihyeon had asked you and Yoongi to babysit little Jisung for the night so that they could enjoy some time for themselves.

You were right about to open the car door and ring the bell, when Yoongi pulled you in for what was, in the beginning, a peck on the lips. It then turned into a heavy make out session, and now you’re on his lap, legs spread wide, his veiny hands squeezing your thighs in such an erotic way it makes you shiver.

“Relax, jagi, we still got time. About ten minutes.”, he pants, eyes closed, as he bites his lower lip, focusing on how wet and soft you feel around him. “But I don’t know if I can last that long.”, he chuckles.

You let out a high pitched moan when he moves one of his hands from your thighs and places it on your exposed breasts, cupping one of your boobs, slightly pinching your nipple with his thumb and index, and you see him playfully smirk at you. “You’re so hot like this, jagiya.”, he grunts, snapping his hips up so that the tip of his dick roughly brushes against your g-spot, making you yelp once again. “I almost forgot how you feel around me.” he moans as he watches you bounce on top of him.

You and Yoongi didn’t have sex at all the past month and a half. Sure, you did other things, such as foreplay or occasional dry humping, but ever since you’d suggested a break from… trying, you haven’t gone all the way until tonight, when you both gave in to lust like a couple of horny teenagers.

“I’m gonna cum, jagi, are you close?”, Yoongi pants, his black hair is stuck on his sweaty face and it’s the hottest sight you’ve ever witnessed.

You nod, “Yes, so close.” Yoongi moves his other hand so that his thumb would brush against your clit, but you stop him before he can touch your sensitive spot. “No, I-“, you gasp for air, “I think I can cum just like this.”

Yoongi growls at the sound of your words, as he grips your hips, squeezing the flesh tight. “Fuck, you’re so hot. I’ve missed this so much, jagi, please cum on my dick, I’m so close.” As soon as he feels you clench and tighten around him, he squeezes his eyes shut, cussing under his breath. “Fuck, jagi, I’m close.”, he pants, “Lift yourself up, I’m about to cum.”, he bites his lip, gesturing for you to lift your body from his lap in case you didn’t want him to finish inside you. Instead, you pushed your body down, sinking onto him even more, so that his length fills you up completely. “Fuck, I’m-“, he’s cut off mid sentence by his breathtaking orgasm.

You stay there, in the backseats, you on top of Yoongi, both of you desperately trying to catch your breaths. Your arms are around his body, and you rest your head on his chest, as he runs a hand though your long hair. You feel his cum slowly drip out of you as he softens inside you, good thing you always carry wet wipes in your bag wherever you go, otherwise you’d be screwed.

“Get up, jagiya, we have to go now.”, Yoongi whispers in your ear. You hum in protest, but get up anyway, because you have a baby to babysit, otherwise you’d stay here with him, cuddled up to his chest, as he holds you tight.

“I’m sorry…”, he mumbles, as he zips his jeans and fixes his hair, and you look at him confused. “Because I…, you know, came inside.”, he gestures, visibly embarrassed, his cheeks blushing a little. He’s so cute.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, since you said you wanted to take a break from trying…”, he trails, but you get the point. “I wasn’t expecting… that,” he goes on “otherwise I’d have brought condoms or just, you know, finished somewhere else.”, he sounds guilty, and you hate that.

“Yoongi, love, it’s okay. I wanted it, I liked it.”, you reassure him “The whole taking-a-break thing was just because it was just too much to handle back then. I just needed some time. It’s okay, I promise.”, you kiss him on the lips, hoping that it’ll wash away all the guilt he’s feeling, and somehow it does.

“I love you.”, he places a soft peck on your lips.

“I love you too.”, you giggle, brushing your nose against his, “Now let’s go, Min Yoongi, we got a baby to babysit.”

Kim Jisung is an utterly adorable baby. He’s got the prettiest little eyes, and the softest gummy cheeks you ever squished, plus he’s always super calm and quiet, you barely heard him cry since he was born, except for when he was hungry. Taehyung’s always manifested his love for kids, and it really was no surprise to you all when he and his girlfriend announced the pregnancy after just a couple of years of dating, since he always rambled on and on and on about wanting to be a father while he was still in his twenties -technically, he wasn’t even twenty-five when his girlfriend gave birth to Jisung, but whatever.

Jisung sleeps quietly, as you and Yoongi watch him squeeze his favorite plushie in his tiny, adorable hands, and you can’t help but let out a sigh, that has Yoongi to quickly pull you into a hug from behind. “He’s just too cute.”, you smile at the precious baby boy, and you hear Yoongi hum in agreement. “He grew up so fast, though. It feels like yesterday when Taehyung called us, saying that Jihyeon was in labor.”

“Babies do grow up fast.”, he agrees with you. It’s kinda sad, though, isn’t it?”, Yoongi squeezes you tighter, eyes locked on sleeping Jisung. “They’re so cute, wish they could stay like this forever.”, he speaks as if he’s daydreaming -and he is.

“Bet you won’t be saying that when you’ll have to change, like, a million diapers per day.”, you and Yoongi jump at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. You’ve been too caught up in the moment to notice the rattling of the keys and the door opening. “But he is cute, I’ll give you that.”, he chuckles, placing the keys on the table, before helping Jihyeon, his fiancée, take off her coat. Her baby bump is showing already, and you wince at the sight, biting you cheek.

Taehyung immediately goes to the crib where his baby is peacefully asleep, and caresses Jisung’s puffy cheeks with his fingers. Little Jisung stirs at the feeling of his father. “Hi buddy, I’m back.”, he whispers to his son, completely and utterly in love.

“Tae, don’t wake him up.”, Jihyeon scolds him, getting closer to the crib as well, but watching her son from afar, not wanting to disturb his sleep any more.

“But I missed him.”, Taehyung pouts, unable to keep his hands off his son. “It’s so hard to stay away from him.”

“Did Jisung give you a hard time?”, Jihyeon smiles at you and Yoongi as she sits on the couch, caressing her belly.

You and Yoongi both shake your heads no. “No, he’s an angel. He’s so cute.”, your heart aches a bit at the thought of having to leave him soon.

“I wonder if baby number two is going to be so calm and peaceful, too.”, Jihyeon giggles, her hand still on her baby bump.

You wonder how it feels, to have a life growing inside of you. You haven’t got to experience that yet, and when your miscarriage happened you were only four weeks pregnant, and there had been no significant changes in your body.

“Sorry if we ruined your plans for the evening by asking you to babysit Jisung.”, Taehyung says, picking up his sleeping baby from the crib, before holding him closer to his body as little Jisung nuzzles into his chest, still not letting go of his plushie. “We didn’t know who else to ask.”, he kisses his son on the head. “Seokjin and Namjoon are out of town celebrating their hundredth anniversary or whatever, and Jungkook… well, I don’t trust him with my baby yet. He’s still a baby, for God’s sake.”, Taehyung jokes, making both you and Yoongi laugh.

“It was our pleasure.”, you reassure him. “We love Jisung, we had so much fun.”, there’s sadness in both your voice and your smile, Yoongi can feel it.

“Are you sure? Thought you might wanted to be alone.”, Jihyeon insists, but you shake your head once more.

“It’s fine, really. We really do enjoy spending time around Jisung. Plus Yoongi and I are alone 99% of the time anyway…”

Jihyeon and Taehyung quickly look at each other before looking away. Jihyeon clears her throat, “We just thought you were uncomfortable around babies?”, her voice comes out more like a question.

You and Yoongi both gulp hard, visibly taken aback. You are definitely not ready for this conversation. You and Jihyeon are close, yes, but you have always been the type of person to keep her personal stuff… well, private. You don’t like to share too much about your life, especially when it’s about sensitive topics like this.

Literally no one knows that you and Yoongi’ve been trying to have a baby. He’s close to Taehyung, he’s one of his best friends, but it’s not like they talk about these kind of things.

“We’re not.”, Yoongi simply says, hoping that it’d change the topic. His words are followed by and awkward, unbearable silence, until he clears his throat before he speaks again, “It’s getting pretty late, we’ve got plans for lunch so we have to be up early, we better get off.”

☔︎

You feel like you could faint right there on the spot when Jungkook’s new girlfriend, who just turned nineteen, confesses to you that she’s late. Late late. Like, her period’s late. A couple of weeks, actually. She stares at you with her big, doe eyes, and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Thankfully, Jungkook’s in the other room with Yoongi and the rest of your friends, and you and her, Nara, are completely alone.

“Have you…”, you clear your throat, clearly uncomfortable in this situation. Why did she decide to come to you? Sure, you and her are pretty close, and you almost look after as if you’re her big sister, but damn, that was quite straightforward. “Have you and Jungkook had unprotected sex?”, you ask, but deep down you already know the answer, otherwise she wouldn’t be in panic.

She bites her lower lip, guilty, as she nods. “Yeah, but only a couple of times. We didn’t have any condoms and were too caught up in the moment to think straight. He didn’t finish inside, though.”, she tries to find a silver lining, but you know that it could’ve been enough. She could be pregnant.

“You have to take a test.”, you tell her. “It could mean nothing though, my period’s late all the time, I should have had it three weeks ago” you shrug “But, you could also be pregnant. You have to take a test.”, you repeat.

The thought of Nara being pregnant too makes you feel sick. It’s as if everybody else is living your dream and you are just… watching.

“But please,” you sigh “don’t have unprotected sex again if you’re not ready for the consequences.” She nods in silence, knowing that you are right. You’re not really scolding her, you’re just looking out for her. Nara is young, too young to understand all the challenges that a teen pregnancy brings, and you wouldn’t want that for her. Especially because Jungkook and her’ve just started dating.

“Unnie?”, she asks after a couple of minutes of complete silence. “You said your period is late, too.”, she starts explaining herself. “I actually bought two pregnancy test, just in case. Why don’t we take them together? You said you’re late, too. It’d help me release some tension.”, she pulls out two pregnancy tests from her bag.

☔︎

You can’t believe you’re actually peeing on a stick right now. You don’t even remember the last time you took a test, and surely you weren’t expecting to take one now, on a random Saturday night, while your boyfriend was just downstairs, laughing and drinking with his friends.

Nara’s already taken her test, and placed it inside the box without looking at it -which is, in fact, the whole point of a pregnancy roulette-, so you do the exact same. You open the bathroom door to get Nara in, before closing and locking it to make sure no one disturbs you.

“Should we take a look?”, she asks, panic in her voice.

You nod, before taking both boxes in your hands, ready to pull out the tests and see the results. You just know you’re not pregnant, that’s why you’re not anxious or anything. Your period is always late, and this time it’s no exception.

“I’m scared.” Nara’s voice trembles, and she sounds like she’s about to cry.

You instantly pull her into a hug, and she finally lets a couple tears slip from her hazel eyes. “It’s okay, Nara.”, you pat her back. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m here. Breathe in, then breathe out”, you instruct her, hoping it’ll help her calm down a bit. “Whatever the tests shows, you’re not alone.”

She lets out a desperate whine. “What if I’m pregnant, though? My parents don’t even know I’m dating Jungkook, how am I going to explain a baby to them? What do I tell them?”

“Nara, calm down. You don’t even know if you are pregnant. And if you are, then I’m sure you and Jungkook’ll figure it out together.”, you pull away to wipe away some tears from her face. “He likes you very much. He’s not a dick, I know he wouldn’t leave you alone if you were pregnant with his child.”

She nods, convinced by your words. “Okay.”, she swallows her own saliva. “You’re right, unnie, thank you.”

“Ready to look?”, you ask.

She nods, before taking a deep breath. And you do too, even though you know you’re not pregnant. You can’t be. “Yeah, unnie. Let’s get this over with.”

You pull out the test from the box in one swift motion, before placing them on the sink, but they somehow slip and, when you recollect them, there’s absolutely no way you can tell which one’s yours. That’s when you accidentally look at the results.

Negative.

You take a look at the other test.

It’s positive.

Fuck.

☔︎

Yoongi literally throws himself on the bed, and you glare at him because you just hate it when he sits on the bed without changing his clothes first, especially since you changed the sheets this morning. He decides to ignore the look you’re giving him, playfully pushing you, making you fall back on the mattress. “Don’t give me that look, jagiya, I had the shittiest day today, I deserve a good sleep.”, he smirks, but you frown.

“What happened?”, you get closer to his warm body, nuzzling your face into his collarbone.

“I don’t know,” he sighs “my boss stressed me a bit too much, I guess.”, he places a kiss on top of your head. But you know Yoongi like the back of your hands, and you know that something else is definitely bothering him, he’s just not the type to stress too much about work. You lift your head to look at him. “What?”, he asks, not looking into your eyes, which is something he always does when he’s trying to hide something from you.

“Tell me what you are really upset about.”, you insist.

“I already told you.”, he frowns.

“Yoongi, sometimes you seem to forget we’ve been together for almost eight years. I know you.”, you tease him by playfully tickling his side, and he squirms under your touch.

“It’s fine, jagi, it’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath. “It’s just that Jungkook told me something, and I just can’t seem to get it out of my head.” You gulp hard at the sound of his words. You know what he’s talking about, but Yoongi doesn’t know that you know.

“What is it?”, you hope he doesn’t sense the quiver in your voice, and he doesn’t. He’s too much inside his own head at the moment.

“I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stupid.”, he mumbles under his breath.

You sigh heavily. “Stop being so grumpy,” you playfully flick his head “tell me.”

“Fine.”, he gives up. He runs his hand through his hair, unsure whether he should even be telling you that. He doesn’t want to bring up the sensitive topic of pregnancy once again, but you’d find out soon anyways. “Jungkook told me Nara’s period is late.”, he blurts out, unable to look at you. “She hasn’t gone to the doctor yet, but Jungkook’s pretty positive she’s pregnant since they had unprotected sex this month.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t want to tell you, jagi, but I figured that she’s going to tell the girls and you’d find out anyways.”, he sounds guilty, and he immediately wraps his strong arms around you to comfort you.

“Why are you upset, then?”, you ask, your voice is muffled by your face being pressed against his sweater.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh, as he lets go of your body. “I don’t know, it’s just…”, his head falls back on the soft pillow under his head “The thought of Jungkook becoming a father… I don’t know, it makes me wish I was in his place.”

“You wish you’d gotten Nara pregnant?”, you joke, and he chuckles.

“You know what I meant.”, he sighs. “I really can’t believe Jungkook’s going to be a father…”, he trails, covering his face with both of his hands out of frustration.

You stay quiet for a couple of minutes, in complete silence, before you speak. “Jungkook’s not going to be a father, Yoongi.”, you take a deep breath, “You are.”

Yoongi doesn’t say a thing. In fact, he doesn’t even move, he even stops breathing for a solid five seconds, before he sits up on the mattress and whispers an almost inaudible “What?”, and you already feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes as you get up from your shared king size bed and hurry to grab your purse. You then proceed to pull out a couple of pregnancy tests and a piece of paper Yoongi’s never seen before.

“I took one of these the other night.”, you start, showing him the positive pregnancy sticks, placing them on top of the duvet cover, “It started as a joke, I really didn’t think I could actually be pregnant.”

You tell him how Nara’d talked you into taking the test, and how only one of them showed two lines. You also tell him that, the next day, you’d bought two more pregnancy tests and took them first thing in the morning just to make sure, because you never know. You weren’t really expecting two pink lines to show up, and you tell him how you almost fainted right there on the spot. You also tell him that the next day, still shook, you went to the hospital to run some beta blood tests, that confirmed what the sticks’d been telling you all along.

You are pregnant. And what shook you even more was finding out that you are eleven weeks pregnant. You had never missed your period during the past months, however you had to admit it wasn’t like the other times. There was much less blood, and it only lasted a couple of days. You didn’t think that it’d be spotting from implantation.

“I didn’t go to the gynecologist, I wanted to tell you first. I want you there with me.” You don’t even realize you’ve been crying the whole time as you were telling Yoongi the whole story of how you found out you are soon going to welcome your baby to the world.

Yoongi’s crying too. His beautiful, pale skin is soaked in tears as he sniffles and clears his runny nose with the hem of his sweater. “Jagi…”, he sobs, pulling you close for a hug. “Are you serious? Is this real? You’re not joking, are you? Please, please tell me you’re not joking.”, he chokes. He’s so scared you’ll tell him that it’s some kind of sick prank, but it is not.

It’s all true.

“It is, Yoongi. It’s real. We’re having a baby.”, you sob too, soaking his clothes with the tears that are falling from your eyes, but neither of you care. You’ve been waiting so long for this moment, and you don’t care about a damn sweater getting wet.

“Lay down, jagiya, I want to hug you and our baby.”, he wipes some more tears from his beautiful, yet teary eyes.

You nod, laying down, sinking in your soft mattress, and you soon feel Yoongi’s hands pull down your pajama pants just so that he could have better access to your, still pretty imperceptible, baby bump. You muffle your sobs in the sleeve of your sweater as you feel him place a series of light kisses on your belly, before pulling your pants back on, muttering a “That’ll keep you warm” to the baby in your tummy.

He gets up only to change into some comfortable sweats and an oversized t-shirt, before returning to bed to lay next to you under the soft, vanilla scented sheets. He hugs you from behind, his warm hand drawing imaginary shapes on your belly. “I still can’t believe it, jagi, I’m so happy…”, he whispers, placing a kiss on your hair, “I’m going to be a dad.”, you can’t see him, but you know he’s probably smiling from ear to ear.

“Yeah, you are.”, you turn your head to kiss him on the lips. “And you’ll be the best appa, Yoongi.”

He stays quiet for a while, and you think that maybe he fell asleep, when he suddenly speaks again. “Wait, you said eleven weeks?”, he sounds like he’s thinking of something. You nod. “Jagiya… isn’t that when we… you know, in the car, before Taehyung’s house?”

Your eyes widen as you remember that night. Oops. Yup, that must definitely be the night you got pregnant, since you hadn’t had sex in the previous month. Even after that one time in your car, whenever you and Yoongi had sex he’d pull out last minute until you managed to convince him that you seriously were fine with him finishing inside -which took a while, surprisingly. So yeah, that night in the car has to be the night.

“Oh my God, jagiya, I can’t believe we made our baby in the backseats of our car.”, Yoongi chuckles, and you laugh too because really, what are the odds? You’ve had unprotected sex for the last years and you get pregnant the one time you do it in your car?

“Goodnight jagiya, sleep tight.”, Yoongi pulls you closer and kisses your cheek. He then slips one hand into your pajama pants to caress your belly. “Goodnight baby, sleep tight, appa loves you so much already.”

☔︎

Yoongi’s been extra affectionate since he found out he’s going to be a dad.

He asks you how you’re feeling at least ten times per hour, and when he’s not physically there with you, he texts you. It’s not only because he’s protective of you and your baby, but also because he wants to be even more involved in your pregnancy than he already is. He wants to know every little thing that’s happening in your life: every mood swings, every craving, every time you’re feeling nauseous, he just wants to know. He needs to know.

When you went to the gynecologist to make sure you are indeed pregnant, he asked a million questions to your doctor. You believe you won’t ever forget how his eyes were glistening when the obgyn confirmed that your baby is perfectly healthy and your pregnancy’s not at risk. He’s genuinely so happy to finally be able to share all this happiness with you, the love of his life, the mother of his child.

You both agreed you’d tell the news to your friends once you entered your second trimester, just to make sure everything was fine. The day you told them, they were all so happy and congratulated the both of you.

Yoongi bursted into tears when the doctor told you you were expecting a girl. He’d been emotional for the whole day and kept his hand on your belly all the time, caressing your bump as he talked to his daughter, telling her how much he loved her already and how he couldn’t wait to meet her.

“What do you think about Unmyeong?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden.

You’re in bed, Yoongi’s arm is around you and his hand is on your belly. You’re almost at the end of your third trimester now, and you’ve definitely gotten bigger. Still, you and Yoongi haven’t chosen the perfect name for your baby girl. You both kind of want a unique name for her, a name that represents what you feel for her.

“What?”, you ask him, confused.

“Unmyeong.”, he repeats. “For our baby girl. It means destiny.”, he explains.

You stay quiet for a while. Unmyeong. The more you think about it and repeat the name over and over in your head, the more you like it. Destiny.

“I think we were destined to have her, you know?” Yoongi murmurs, nuzzling against your back. “We went through a lot to have a family. But we’re here now, our baby girl’s due date’s in a couple of weeks, and I can’t help but think it’s the destiny that gifted us with her.”

His words make tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but believe he’s right. You were definitely destined to have her. After almost four years of negative pregnancy tests and desperate cries, you finally got what you’ve been praying for for so long.

You turn your upper body to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and notice they’re glistening as well. “I like it. Unmyeong… I like it.”, you smile at him.

“You do?”

You nod, smiling at him. “It’s perfect. The perfect name for our perfect baby girl. Min Unmyeong.”

A couple of tears fall from Yoongi’s eyes when he hears the full name for the first time. It’s real, it’s all real, finally. You feel him move under the sheets until he rests his head on your stomach, careful not to hurt you in any way.

“Hi Min Unmyeong. This is appa.”, you can’t stop the tears from streaming down your face as well. “I can’t wait to finally meet you, baby girl. I can’t wait for the three of us to be a family. I love you so much, baby girl. Now sleep tight and let your eomma rest well. Jal ja, baby girl.”

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missblissy · 6 months

Text

Bitter

Summary: A little drabble that takes place after the events of the game. In an intimate moment, Astarion has feelings of disgust within himself, and can't help but break down, talking to you about how he feels in his own skin. You stay supportive and help him through it.

Warnings: mentions of sex/domestic trauma, and panic attacks, but no actual smut. :) Only angst. Just angst. :)))

A/N: Hey hey! This is my first Astarion X Reader! I have been sucked in and now I'm just another one of his girlies :') I used a GN!Tav with no mentions of race/class/gender whatsoever. I really wanted to explore Astarion's sexual trauma, how he deals with it, and how he feels about it. I like to think Astarion desperately wants to be whatever he thinks "normal" is, and that he has a lot of shame and pained feelings towards not being able to be whatever this "normal" is. So I wanted to give him some angsty love/hurt and comfort. Enjoy!

Bitter. Like sour brandy. A perpetuating ick that crawled with insect-hooked feet into his skin. The itchy pain of ghostly memories was hot on his flesh. The crawling and coiling were unconditional. The buzzing of past words, actions, and regrets all flooded his mind. His body moved with a mind of its own in a sheer thought of panic. Moving. Repulsed. Unwanted even. But it still happened. Bittering the moment, souring the taste in his mouth, clutching at his undead heart with a rage he didn’t know he had, so soft and subtle that it built like a breeze over the ocean, hitting him like a typhoon.

But no sign foretold that in the sudden jerk and pull back of his own hand from yours. No longer interlocked. The recoil of his body from instincts rather than thought or sound mind. How he fell away from you, not into you. Both surprised him, his internal rage, and his body betraying him. A breath hitched in his throat as he was pulled back to the dimly lit room of reality.

Where was he again...? His mind was foggy, far way, but yet still brim and bright with paranoia. Flush and festering with one too many distant memories.

“Star-bite?” Your voice was always soothing… Enough to pull him from his mind. The fog far from leaving his eyes traveled with ease across his face in the dark room. No light was needed for you to see that.

The honey worry in your words where enough for his eyes to meet yours despite his shame to look away. It pained him even more with the love welling in those sweet pearls and staring up at him with nothing but patience. Seemingly something he didn’t have. A tender hand lifted to his head, “Are you okay?” You asked. He flinched away. Again. Not even twice now in five minutes. You didn't pull back, however, but rather left your palm open with patience.

Astarion closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into your hand for only a second as he tried to ground himself. Self-hatred bubbled in him. Embarrassment. Shame. It was all the same feeling at this point and it was unbearable.

He sat up and back on his legs, no longer looming over you as the moonlight bathed him in a glow. Glossy with an otherworldly shine you stared up at him, skin exposed to the night. And watched as his shoulders fell with a deep sigh of frustration as he threw his hands to his face as if to hide while shaking his head, “I’m sorry-” He started. You slowly sat up as well, a blanket bathing over your own equally nude body in a half attempt to cover up.

“I’m sorry.” He said it again, “I.. I Don’t know what came over me,” He tried to laugh it off, the fact he blanked out, flinched from your very touch, and found himself disgusted even with the person he loved most. You understood… This was hard for him. Sex. Intimacy. Anything that related to his body. So you so desperately wanted to comfort him.

Which could be a hard thing to do sometimes. Despite that, you tried to reassure him. This wasn't the first time this has happened, “You don’t have to do this, It’s fine-”

“It’s not fine!” Astarion snipped with a whisper that could have been a scream, “I’m… not fine.”

Bitter. It was always bitter on his tongue even when he laughed like it was as sweet as syrup before it turned into wine, “I don’t want to be… like this,” His voice carried on as he gestured to his entire being, “Every time. Every single time it doesn’t matter how much you love me I still feel disgusted in my own skin and that’s not fine!” He finally snapped out with a subtle sob, “I want to be able to do more than look and love you from an arm’s reach without wanting to burn my bones and erase the memory of everything I’ve ever been through every time I’m simply just touched by another!”

There wasn’t an easy way to hide the pain on your face. The bitter truth. Even you knew it and it still stung fresher than a wasp’s stinger on a knuckle. No amount of love you gave Astarion could fix the damage done to him over two centuries of torment. No kind words, no simple nothings, or gestures could undo any of it. Nor erase it. Even dead, Cazador would always be with him.

Astarion’s voice picked up, another twisted, sad, and painful laugh, “It sickens me… It kills me,” He sighed, “That even no matter how much I love you, adore you, want you, and need you…” Silver-flowing tears trickled along his cheeks, flicking with faints of pink, betraying his true nature. A vampire’s bloody tears never lied. A sour sniffle sucked back up into his nose as he spoke again, “No matter how much I care I can’t be fixed. I’ll always fucking be like this!”

He felt so trapped in his own skin. Disgusted with his own body. Hateful towards the person he was forced to become and betrayed by the thought of the person he could have been. It was a bitter cycle. And to think… This all started as a lovely night. But Astarion could just add this to the long list of many other things he’s ruined.

You sat on your knees, scooting just an inch ever so closer, “Astarion?” You held out your hand for him, palm up, open and there for him to take if he wanted. And of course, he did, “You will always be broken.” His eyes shot open and he stared at you, surprised by your honest take, “But you will also always be loved and cared for even if you are broken,” You squeezed his hand lightly and gave a soft smile, “And I don’t mind that you’re broken,”

Something told him you were lying but Astarion knew better than to believe that. It didn’t stop his little scoff as he averted his red gaze, “Even if I can’t fuck you?” Bitter. It was in his voice, the way he spat the words and laughed by adding, “I know I’m supposed to be this amazing, beautiful, and skilled piece of work but I’m no-”

“You’re not supposed to be anything,” You softly interrupted him, knowing exactly where he was about to go with this tangent, “You’re only supposed to be whatever you want to be. Not what others have made you out to be.”

He still couldn’t meet your gaze, but you could see the doubt in his eyes and the subtle pout of frustration on his lips, “Even if I don’t know what I want to be?” He spoke more softly this time, like it was mostly to himself so he could finally speak it out loud, “... Or who I am?”

“Absolutely,” You promised him. It broke your heart every time he had these moments, how hurt and torn he must feel inside you could only imagine. You leaned a little closer, enough to still give him his space, “I’m not with you for the sex, Astarion, it was never about the sex. So I could go the rest of my life waiting, or not waiting, or simply just being there,” You reached up and cupped his cheek again and pulled ever so gently to get him to meet your gaze, “You… Do. Not… have to have sex with me to keep me to stay with you,” A little glimmer in your eye sparked with affection, "I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it, you are enough just as yourself. And I'll say it forever, I love you for you, and that includes even when stuff like this happens."

That got the littlest smile out of him. He brushed his cheek deeper into your palm and found himself even leaning into your embrace, “You know I want to,” He huffed, “I just don’t think… I can… not without this feeling being there, that is," It was still bitter. He closed his eyes, head resting by your shoulder, nearly hiding in the crook of your neck, “I don’t want to be this way. It’s like I'm not even free. Like my time in the sun was worth nothing in the long wrong,” He quickly looked up at you and corrected himself, “I know that’s not true,” A bitter smile, “It just feels that way, sometimes,”

Your smile, bitter too, but sweet, with a sad nuzzle of your nose against his in a loving and comforting gesture, “I know, Star-bite,” Then a little kiss to his nose for reassurance, “But this,” And a tight squeeze of his hand, referring to just this simple act alone as you spoke, “You can do. And this is more than enough,”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #angst #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #pale elf #bg3 astarion #haha not me writing my first fic in YEARS #hahaaaa #aaaa #:)#no body look at me im in my feels #I just need some astarion angst to heal me its fine

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dreamwritesimagines · 11 months

Text

Garden of Secrets [27] - Wolfsbane

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Some surprises carry bad news.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, slow burn.

Word Count: 3300

Series Masterlist

To be completely honest, you weren’t the biggest admirer of weddings.

Up until very recently, they had only served as a reminder that you would have go through the same thing one day, and that always managed to make you feel breathless, tension filling your whole system.

But ever since you married Benedict, you had been surprising even yourself.

“My lady?”

You could tell Benedict was grinning from the tone of his voice and you jumped on your feet to steal a look at the closed door, then turned to Paula.

“You may leave Paula thank you—Come in Benedict!”

Paula opened the door to step outside and Benedict entered the room, stopping dead in his tracks the moment his gaze fell on you. You blinked a couple of times, trying to pull yourself together to not gawk at how handsome he looked, and he let out a breath, staring at you in silence for a couple of seconds.

“You are a vision,” he said softly and you tilted your head, shooting him a mischievous smile.

“I suppose it’s a good thing you’re an artist then,” you said airily and sat back down in front of your vanity, still smiling. “You look very handsome yourself.”

He gave you that lopsided grin. “Ready for the wedding?”

“Almost,” you said, holding up a pair of earrings before putting them down to grab another pair. “So the chapel first, then the breakfast?”

“Mm hm. But I’m guessing the breakfast will take some time.”

“I could always pass out if we get too bored,” you joked, your eyes finding his in the mirror. “That was what cut our wedding breakfast rather short for other guests.”

“I’m not opposed to that idea at all,” Benedict joked back and you turned to him, holding the bracelet over your wrist.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he said quickly and came closer to you to take the bracelet from you, then crouched down to get to your level. He clasped it over your wrist, his fingertips waking fire underneath your skin before he pulled his hand back as you nibbled on your lip.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

A smile warmed your face, excitement rushing through you and without so much as a thought you reached out to fix his cravat, your heart skipping a beat as soon as your gaze met his.

“It was um— it looks better now,” you stammered, retrieving your hand and shifting your weight. “Do you like weddings?”

Benedict paused, then shrugged. “I don’t really care for them.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because everyone says weddings are a celebration of love,” you said, motioning at him. “And I’ve never met anyone who worships love more than you. I mean you could compete with Bess and win, that’s saying something.”

“That’s interesting, Josie doesn’t strike me as a romantic person.”

“She’s not,” you said with a scoff. “Bess is romantic enough for both of them.”

“Hate for romance runs in the family then?”

You pulled your brows together. “I don’t hate romance.”

“Heavily dislike romance?” he tried again and you shot him a look.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve recently realized I don’t necessarily mind it,” you admitted with your nose in the air. “On certain, special and very, very, very rare occasions.”

Benedict leaned in slightly, tilting his head to pretend he couldn’t hear you. “Just so I’m clear, how rare?”

“Very rare!”

His laughter was like a melody in your ears but you scrunched up your nose at him, painfully aware of the smile curling your lips as well.

“We should go,” you said with a sigh. “We can’t be late to…celebrate love and all that nonsense.”

“Very romantic.”

“Always am,” you joked back and he straightened his back, then offered you his hand. You took it, your stomach doing a happy flip as you looked up at him.

“Well then,” you said. “Let’s go and celebrate.”

As usual, only the family was in the chapel and Daphne looked very happy, albeit nervous. When you and the rest of the family went back to the Bridgerton House, both she and Simon were surrounded by many guests who were incredibly eager to offer them their congratulations. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daphne frowning at something her mother said before following her out of the room and you raised your brows.

Ah.

The wedding night talk.

At least you were certain Daphne and Simon were going to consummate their wedding, unlike you and Benedict. At first you were very glad about that but now…

Well, you’d had a change of heart on that issue.

“…I just remember being absolutely famished,” your uncle’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you tried to pay attention to the conversation. “Everyone except the groom and the bride eats at these things.”

“Probably because they’re busy thanking everyone for their good wishes,” Josie pointed out while Teddy ran around with Gregory, Hyacinth and Lottie’s siblings, giggling. “I’m so glad I didn’t go through this to be honest.”

“Because you eloped, Josie,” your aunt said and pressed a hand on her chest. “I wish we could have been there.”

“I’m sure we could throw a dinner party on your anniversary?” your uncle joked and Josie shook her head fervently.

“I’m not the biggest admirer of the ton uncle, you know that.”

“What, with your cheerful attitude? I do not believe it.”

You let out a laugh and turned your head when you heard your name being called, Lottie waving at you.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and walked to her, giving her a smile. “Hello Lottie.”

“Hey!” she said. “I could barely talk to you at the chapel.”

“Because Anthony has been hoarding you like a dragon with his treasure,” you pointed out, making her giggle.

“Well he is with Benny and Colin now,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to apologize, I promise,” you said. “So I take it this is a nice practice for you?”

“Hm?”

“For when you and Anthony get married?”

“Oh I—” she stammered, a happy smiling curling her lips. “I do not want to assume—”

“Lottie. Please,” you said. “You know it as well as I do that he’s more than ready, considering he has been in love with you for a while.”

An excited giggle escaped from her.

“I still cannot believe it,” she whispered. “I fear I’m in a dream.”

“The possibility of spending the rest of my life with Anthony would be my nightmare but I suppose it’s different for you,” you deadpanned and she bit on her lip.

“Nothing would make me happier,” she admitted, making you smile and roll your eyes playfully. “No really! I only wish he feels the same.”

“He does,” you said. “He’s only waiting for things to get calmer I guess, you know first Benedict’s marriage, now Daphne’s…”

“Oh I would wait for him for a hundred years,” Charlotte said. “I do not mind as long as he loves me.”

You made a face. “In love people never fail to surprise me.”

“You’re in love with Benny!”

“Why does everyone keep reminding me that?” you asked back, making her laugh. “I’ve been nothing but nice to all of you—”

“Y/N?” you heard Daphne’s voice interrupting you and both you and Charlotte turned to her.

“Hello Daph,” you said. “Congratulations again.”

“I’m so happy for you Daphne!”

“Thank you, both of you,” she said with a nervous smile. “Lottie, do you mind if I steal her for a moment?”

“Oh not at all,” she said. “I’ll go and find my siblings, they’re all over the house, I need to make sure they don’t break anything.”

“It’s alright if they did,” Daphne assured her and pulled you towards the foyer so that you and she could walk out of the house and into the yard.

“What’s happening?” you asked, confusion apparent in your tone and she took a deep breath, then turned to you.

“I must ask you a question.”

“Sure.”

“About the wedding night.”

Oh God damn it.

On one hand, it made sense that she would ask you, considering you two were friends and you had married into her family, not to mention everyone was convinced you and Benedict were madly in love.

On the other hand, unlike her wedding night, yours wasn’t happening in the foreseeable future.

Daphne seemed to have interpreted the look of fright on your face as discomfort because she quickly flailed her hands, shaking her head.

“I know you’re married to my brother,” she said. “And it must be very uncomfortable for you and trust me, it is for me as well, I recognize how unconventional it is.”

“…Right,” you said. “Uh huh. That’s the—that’s the reason, yes.”

“But my mama talked to me,” she said. “Not in a detailed way, she merely…she got embarrassed and I’m not quite certain I understood it all and you’re the only person in here who is both married and my friend.”

You blinked a couple of times and offered her a soft smile.

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath and looked around, then leaned in closer.

“Simon and I…we kissed before,” she whispered and you repressed a laugh.

“Oh really?”

“And before you judge me—”

“I couldn’t judge you if I tried, it would be quite hypocritical of me,” you said. “Considering I did the same.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, you and Benedict kissed before your wedding?”

The memory was more than enough to send a fire through your veins, desire clouding your mind for a moment before you cleared your throat, then nodded.

“Mm hm.”

Daphne’s cheeks reddened.

“So when Simon kisses me, I really—I really like it,” she said and you tilted your head.

“That’s a good sign.”

“But after this conversation I just had, I must at least have an idea of…” she trailed off and looked you in the eye. “Please be honest with me. Is it pleasant?”

Oh, that—

Well, you’d had the same worries, and to be honest you still had your doubts about that but you couldn’t just tell her that. Your aunt had assured you it was pleasant, and that conversation you had with Benedict in the art room in this very house echoed in your ears;

“All poets say it’s perfection with the person you love.”

“And what do the artists say?”

You bit down on your lip, trying to focus.

“It’s…” you trailed off and took a deep breath. “Are you in love with him?”

“With my whole heart.”

You offered her a small smile.

“Then it won’t be just pleasant, Daph,” you said. “It’s going to be divine.”

She let out a relieved breath and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she said as she pulled back. “You’re a true friend.”

You waved a hand in the air.

“Don’t mention it,” you said and paused for a moment. “I mean it. I don’t want your mother to think badly of me, so don’t.”

She laughed and nodded her head. “Cross my heart.”

“Daphne!”

“That’s your cue,” you said as you stole a look at the wedding guests in the yard, one of them waving at her. She heaved a sigh.

“I will see you later?”

“Absolutely,” you said and watched her walk away from you to the guests. You smiled to yourself, then went back to the house, looking around for Teddy but he was nowhere to be seen. You frowned slightly, then made your way to Benedict who was in a conversation with Lucy and Henry.

“Hello there,” you said, smiling at them and turning to Benedict. “Have you seen Teddy?”

“Uh yeah, he’s in the kitchens with Hyacinth and Greg and Charlie’s siblings.”

“In the kitchens?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yeah there’s more cake there.”

You blinked a couple of times. “He already had two slices.”

Benedict looked almost abashed for a moment and cleared his throat.

“He asked me if he could have another slice and I said yes.”

Your jaw dropped. “Benedict!”

“In my defense, he said please—”

“You do realize that he’s going to have a stomachache and not going to eat lunch after this?”

“Darling I don’t think you’re listening to me, he said please.”

“You two are going to make fun parents,” Henry said with a laugh and both you and Benedict turned to look at him, your eyes widening. Lucy elbowed Henry with a smile.

“Don’t.”

“What? They’re already acting like parents and it’s only a matter of time.” he said, still grinning and you and Benedict exchanged glances, then averted your eyes from each other.

“I’m just— I’ll go and find him to check if he’s alright,” you stammered and Benedict nodded fervently.

“Yeah I’ll help you,” he said and quickly followed you as you walked away from them. You cleared your throat and made your way to the stairs with Benedict who let out a chuckle, making you look at him.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just—” he trailed off. “To think they believe that…”

“Not that surprising,” you pointed out. “You know what the ton is like, at least Henry is actually saying it rather than implying it.”

“Seriously?”

“I’d say we have like a couple of months until people start throwing us baby names—” you paused for a moment, tension making your stomach flip. “Benedict, should we talk about this?”

His eyes searched your face, and he seemed to have noticed the look of absolute nervousness on your face before he took a deep breath.

“About baby names?” he joked and you felt a smile curl your lips.

Alright then, maybe you wouldn’t talk about it just yet.

You were fine with that.

“Yeah,” you said. “About baby names, obviously.”

“Not really,” he said. “I mean if someone tries to give us suggestions, we can just tell them we already have an idea.”

“Do we?”

He nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I for one think it’s quite clear that we should name the baby Nonexistent.”

You stared up at him for a second before a laugh escaped from your lips and you pushed at his arm.

“No?” he said, grinning. “Come on, it’s a family name.”

“Nonexistent Bridgerton,” you mused and looked over your shoulder as you made your way down the stairs. “Yeah, it has a nice ring to it.”

“See?” he asked with a laugh as he followed you. “I knew you would like it.”

Benedict was rather busy in his studio the next day throughout the morning, so you decided not to disturb him and instead meet with Josie to pay a visit to your uncle and aunt. It had been a while you dropped by the house, and you wanted to see what your garden was doing as well.

You were beginning to think that perhaps you could start working on your garden back home as well.

And perhaps you could even go into the greenhouse to see what was in it and work on it as well.

“Anyway, Andrew keeps talking about Felix,” Josie said as the carriage went down the road, the noises of the busy streets reaching inside. “And he seems rather sweet.”

“He is,” you said. “I always have much more fun at the parties if he’s attending as well.”

“Not with your husband?” Josie shot you a grin and you rolled your eyes at her.

“My husband is too talented,” you said, slightly aware of the proud tone in your voice. “So he keeps getting dragged away from me, by one person or another. Considering all the people attending the parties is the art circle…”

Josie hummed. “And how bizarre are they?”

“The parties or the people?”

“Both.”

You thought for a moment.

“Mostly very much fun and nice,” you said. “There are some…bizarre ones though. Why? Do you want to attend as well?”

“God no,” she said. “That’s not my crowd, sounds like too many people. Perhaps I might attend when you host one though.”

You pulled your brows together. “What?”

“Yeah I mean, will you not?” she asked. “You and Benedict are married, you get along well with his friends, not to mention you’ve just said you have fun in those. It only makes sense if you eventually hosted a party for that art circle as well.”

You blinked a couple of times, deep in thought.

“The idea hadn’t struck me until you mentioned it,” you admitted. “But yes, I suppose I could.”

“There you go,” she said when the carriage came to a stop, and you stepped outside after her, the coachman helping you both.

“Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am.”

You could hear Teddy’s happy chattering as you approached the house, so you went straight to backyard, passing by the house with Josie and Teddy let out a happy squeal the minute he saw you.

“Y/N! Josie!”

“Hello my sweet,” you said, crouching down as he started running to you, then flung himself into your arms. “How are you?”

“I’m well!” he said as he hugged Josie as well while you straightened your back. “I was just telling Mary how I’m going to be a sculptor!”

You smiled at the maid. “Hello Marry.”

“Hello ma’am.”

“Where is auntie, Teddy?”

“Um—she sent me outside to play,” he said, making you frown slightly. “Grown up business with uncle, she said.”

You and Josie exchanged glances and you turned to Mary.

“Do you know what it’s about?”

“I do not, ma’am,” Mary said, “Lord and Lady Thorne seemed in haste.”

“Josie, did I show you my sculpture? The one I made with Benedict?”

Josie managed to smile at him. “Not at all dearest, where is it?”

“Over here, come!” he grabbed her by the hand to pull her towards the picnic cloth under the tree, and you could already see a bunch of toys along with the small sculpture there.

“I’ll just see what this is about,” you told Josie and walked to the house to climb up the marble stairs, and passed through the front door. You walked into the foyer, trying to hear your aunt’s or uncle’s voice but all you could pick up was the occasional conversations of the maids as they walked in the upstairs hallway.

You hummed to yourself and decided to check your uncle’s study, but as you were passing by the small table in the foyer, a half-ripped envelope caught your eye and you stopped dead in your tracks, tilting your head to the left.

Your uncle never left envelopes around, he always opened them in his study or the drawing room.

You reached out to grab the envelope and turned it over to see who it was from but the second your eyes fell on the name, your breath got caught in your throat, the whole foyer spinning around you. You stared at the empty envelope, -no doubt the letter was with your uncle-, trying to fix your breathing, that familiar panic poisoning your system, running through your veins.

“You couldn’t find them?” Teddy’s voice reached you along with Josie’s heels echoing in the foyer but you couldn’t even raise your head from the envelope in your hands, fear gripping your heart so tight that your chest started to hurt.

“Y/N?” you heard Josie’s voice as you dug your fingernails into your palm, tears of absolute terror burning your eyes but you tried to blink them back, clenching your teeth.

“They are probably in uncle’s study, I will get them!” Teddy said, still too excited to notice how frozen you were and ran past you to uncle’s study while Josie touched your arm.

“Hey,” she said, “Are you alright? What is that?”

You swallowed thickly and looked up at her, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your wrist.

“It’s a letter,” you managed to say, “From father.”

Chapter 28

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic #garden of secrets

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theharddeck · 1 year

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can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together.

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries.

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off.

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room.

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables.

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.”

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it.

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you.

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things.

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him.

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out.

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on.

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly.

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door.

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more.

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him.

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly.

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you.

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all.

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home.

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home.

When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house.

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room.

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor.

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting.

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him.

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’.

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened.

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses.

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more.

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you.

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you.

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes.

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs.

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow.

Jake chuckled against your core.

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly.

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse.

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man.

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours.

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice.

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you.

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.”

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you.

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs.

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.”

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter.

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it.

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core.

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you.

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand.

“Good,” you whispered.

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought.

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss.

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck.

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him.

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you.

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment.

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly.

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head.

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting.

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again.

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought.

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot.

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip.

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend.

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you.

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind.

“Green,” you whispered.

Jake’s eyes closed.

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him.

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you.

This kiss was different.

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this.

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock.

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning.

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core.

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward.

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full.

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes.

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp.

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours.

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it.

So, yeah, you were back to need.

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.”

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him.

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.”

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again.

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined.

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did.

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him.

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head.

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you.

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait.

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it.

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow.

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely.

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together.

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you.

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours.

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—”

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake.

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard.

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop.

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin.

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you.

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you.

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened.

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment.

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did.

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly.

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp.

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute.

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit.

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be.

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it.

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said.

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this.

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t.

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else.

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.”

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that.

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous.

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours.

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.”

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen.

This couldn’t be happening.

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you.

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream.

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell.

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long.

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them.

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—”

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened.

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

taglist: @peakyrogers @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @princessofglitterland @mandylove1000 @daggerspare-standingby @blue-aconite @abaker74 @lt-bradshaw @dempy @callsignvalley @princessphilly @aurora-whispers @mxgyver @mlibbydp @bioodforbiood @thedroneranger

#jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman smut #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader smut #jake seresin x reader smut #misskielwrites

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lume-nosity · 2 years

Text

mellow hearts

prompt: how would they act if they realized they had a crush on you

characters: heizou, xiao, kazuha, ganyu, yoimiya, albedo, scaramouche, eula, venti

style: fluff

song inspo: sweet by cigarettes after sex

an: sweet is a really good song and i was writing while listening to it on loop at night! i actually wrote for so many characters.. but i like writing this way, it’s short and sweet. i don’t have to make it too extreme. though i still hope i don’t make them too ooc as i just thought it’d be cute to write a prompt like this & wanted to try out more characters to write. do let me know if these are alright! feel free to give me some pointers for any of these characters backgrounds and such! just don’t turn it into harsh criticism. little ol’ me is trying (-｡-;

notes: not proofread, gender of reader is your choice, lowercase intended, ooc???

heizou

‘started off as a joke, but now it’s not’ kind of guy. being a detective, it’s surprising how it took him a long time to realize his true feelings for you. even he himself is surprised. the way he had to connect the dots, connect every possibility as to why he feels comfortable around you, and then it clicked. he likes you. so expect him to tease/play with you more often, but he silently wishes you get the point. while also being flustered deep inside.

xiao

he’s in denial. why would he, an adeptus, fall in love with a mortal? he doesn’t want you to concern yourself with him. but these feelings of his are making that belief 10x harder. he’d shove his feelings aside, but they’ll always come back to bite him. knowing him, he will take a really long time to be honest with his feelings. not only are they foreign to him, he doesn’t want to hurt you. so give him some time.

kazuha

he goes with the flow. in his travels, he’ll always bring a souvenir back for you. so let’s just say he’ll bring you gifts. every night when you both stargaze or just admire the night sky, he’ll throw in a few ‘flowery’ words here & there. oh and maybe a bonus, he’ll make a haiku on the spot for you. he knows what he’s doing, but even though he cannot stay in one spot, he’ll always find a way to make it back to you. accompanied with some gifts/trinkets.

ganyu

very flustered. she’ll ask cloud retainer about why she feels at ease whenever she’s around you but after doing so she gets teased. which makes her flustered even more. what she’ll do is try to find some time in her schedule to spend time with you. whatever activity, she will join you. whatever location, she will follow you. she may even go the extra mile to cancel her work and make the entire day dedicated to you.

yoimiya

she’ll be more cheerful. oh she has a crush on you? she’s planning a firework date! the fireworks she’s prepping are going to be the best ones ever to be used. she wants to make this date special, so she’ll have to make it count. with some pizzazz if you will?

albedo

he’s confused. like xiao, he doesn’t know what his ‘warm’ feelings are. ironic how he’s an intelligent guy, he wasn’t taught the concept of love. so he turns to sucrose for advice. but after learning what he really feels for you, and what love means, his cheeks turn red and he covers his mouth in embarrassment.

scaramouche

he disregards his feelings and thinks of them as ‘stupid.’ after being abandoned time after time, he doesn’t want the same thing to happen again. many times has he fallen prey to abandonment, he wasn’t falling for it again. he believes he has no time for love…but you’re right there. so he’s pretty conflicted about his ideals. in his mind there’s a whole war going on whether he wants to be upfront with his feelings or leave them. but he wasn’t aware of the light shade of pink that’s obviously shown on his face.

eula

appalled but also blushy at the same time. she’d put her hands on her hips, raise her chin, and say stuff like ‘i’ll seek vengeance on you for making me feel this way.’ she wouldn’t admit it, because that’s just eula yk? a tough nut to crack. though on certain occasions she’d invite you to go ice skating in dragonspine and if you have no experience in ice skating she’ll be happy to teach you. she may say things like ‘hmph. i’ll see to your punishment.’ but don’t worry. she may have that rough exterior, but she’s really kind.

venti

he’ll be more clingy. oh yeah. expect him to follow you around like a lost puppy. you’re going to liyue, he’s going. inazuma? sure why not. sumeru? nice, he’s ready. whenever he’s drunk he comes tumbling towards you and latches his hands around you, slurring out nonsense as you stand there like: ‘you must’ve drank again have you.’ and he goes ‘oh? i’ve only downed a.. couple. *hiccup* it’s not a lot, ehe.’ basically, he’ll just be more clingy to you and he isn’t shy to show that. a bold bard he is.

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memory-and-sky · 5 months

Note

hobie x male reader """""""""dating"""""""" hcs?

okay this is something i can work on and get done relatively quickly. THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON! to everyone who’s sent in asks for fics, they are being worked on, i swear🙏 hope you like this though!

word count: i dunno, it’s a good chunk of headcanons

containing: explicit mention of homophobia, brief description of injury via fighting, small small small sexual reference, hobie brown x m!reader, could be cis or trans but i wrote this with cis males in mind

the rest of the headcanons are under the cut!

“dating” headcanons

hobie brown x male!reader

since Hobie lives in the 70s in Britain, gay rights weren’t really…. y’know, the best.

for your safety and his, the most he’d do in public is holding your hand. and even that was a big sign of rebellion. holding hands with a person of the same sex? how scandalous!

anyway, while holding your hand, he’d love to put both your hands in his pocket, especially if you run cold (like me :P).

he’d totally be the type to rub his thumb slowly on your palm, too.

Hobie knows a lot of people, especially in the queer and punk scenes. he gets invited to a lot of house parties, and feels safer to put your relationship on display more then, but he’s definitely not over the top with it.

a simple arm over the shoulder, around your waist, or a hand in the back pocket of your jeans, though he doesn’t need PDA to show your relationship off.

“Have ya seen this new patch on the ol’ battle jacket? Or this pin? Yeah, my lovely boyfriend made ‘em fo’ me. Gorgeous, innit?” [speaking to a random friend]

“Have ya had the pleasure of meetin’ my boyfriend yet?”

“I thought you said you hated labels…?”

“Mmh, (y/n)’s influential like tha’. Clearly ya haven’t met ‘em.” He’d say, undoubtedly with a smirk plastered on his face.

i really don’t think Hobie would get particularly jealous over you.

of course he loves you with all his little gay heart, but he doesn’t feel insecure or get upset at you or anything if you talk (or flirt) with another guy (as long as you communicate). if anyone is flirting with you and you seem really disinterested, he’ll totally intervene.

maybe hold you in a way that makes it clear you’re together, or explicitly tell the dude that you’re not interested.

but he doesn’t like treating you like an object he ‘owns’ at all, it’s why he’s pretty hesitant to slap the ‘boyfriend’ label down on your relationship right away.

and the 70s were a sexual revolution! revolting against gender norms and relationship norms, stuff like that.

if anybody ever dared ask you two ‘so who’s the man and the woman in the relationship?’ or ‘who’s the top and who’s the bottom?’ Hobie would be dreadfully disgusted and educate them immediately.

speaking of sexual revolution and whatnot, Hobie would be down for polyamory if you were.

you two have a very good line of communication, and if you wanted to open your relationship and communicated that to him, he’d be fine with it.

you’re so great, he gets how other guys might fall in love with you, too.

Hobie would give the best gifts, try and change my mind. whether it’s for your anniversary, birthday, or just a random gift, they’re always handmade.

maybe he’ll make you a piece of clothing like a shirt, hand-pick a bouquet for you, or even customizing/fixing one of your old clothing pieces with a bit of added Hobie flair.

Even small things, like a charm, pin, or patch have so much love put into them because he loves you!

touching on my first point again, homophobia was very present outside of the queer/punk scene, even in some aspects of the punk community he didn’t feel welcome at all.

usually, he’d tell people where to shove their opinion, but sometimes he’d feel completely unsafe to be himself around anyone.

yeah, he’s spider-man, but he’s also a very young adult. he could fight people, and he definitely used to, but he hated coming home to you being worried sick about all the horrible bruises, cuts, and scrapes on him.

back to the lighthearted stuff, he’s definitely the type of guy to cook for you.

doesn’t matter what meal it is, he’s gonna make it for you if he has the chance to. and he actually makes good food, despite living in Britain his whole life.

if you’ve got issues with trying new foods, his place will always be stocked full with your safe foods no matter what.

you’ll eat together, and he’ll gaze dreamily at you, wondering how he ever got so lucky to land such a stellar guy like you.

this man loves coming home after a long day, popping in a VCR for a movie of some sort (TV could be in your bedroom or living room, doesn’t matter), and just cuddling with you.

he doesn’t mind being either the big spoon or little spoon, but tends to like being big spoon cause he likes holding you close to him so much.

he’s very scrawny, but doesn’t mean he won’t love you all the same, and hold you tight.

one more thing, Hobie loves you above all else. he’ll protect you and fight for you anytime you need. when it comes to his partners, he does not play around!!

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genderkoolaid · 2 months

Note

advice on how to get over the fear that t is going to make me ugly? or that i’m going to miss “the old me”

i’m a queer trans guy and i’ve been questioning going on t for years now and i know i definitely want bottom growth, body fat redistribution and more body hair.

but im err on the side of face and voice changes. i’m scared of disliking my new voice and suddenly growing dysphoric over it (i dont have too much voice dysphoria now) and disliking how my new face will look. i’m kinda genderfluid as well so it’s complicated. but i don’t want to go my whole life without knowing what it’s like to be on hrt. but i can’t get over the fear of looking/finding myself ugly and undesirable and losing my community... which is ironic cuz i find other trans men attractive as hell. i discussed this in therapy and i still feel this way :/

i wish there was a way for me to start without telling anyone and then breaking the news when i’m experiencing changes and feeling more confident about it. i have my gender dysphoria diagnosis and i can start if i want to, but i need my family’s financial support. i don’t want to make it a big deal since it’s just something i’d be trying out to feel more like myself in certain ways.

sorry this turned into a long ass rant and you don’t have to reply but i’m just gonna kindly leave it in the ask box 💀

There's a post that goes like "all of life is irreversible. i cannot go back a single second" and I think thats something good to keep in mind when you are thinking through this. You are already living with a body that has changed and will continue to change in ways largely out of your control. You are already living in a post-irreversible-alteration body.

If you do go on T and find you don't like how your voice sounds: for one, you can stop at any time (& if you haven't checked out microdosing as an option, you should). But two: plenty of people live with a deeper voice than they want. Plenty of people live with facial hair they dislike. You can pursue the same therapies and procedures they do. Or maybe you don't, and you find ways to live with a voice or face you aren't totally in love with.

So much detransition fearmongering, especially directed at transmascs & assoc. trans people, heavily relies on the specter of the fallen woman, itself steeped in trans-misogyny & intersexism. The idea that, for one, a "woman" who has mixed-sex features is ugly and undesirable, and two, that a "woman" made undesirable is forever doomed to be miserable and worthless. The transphobic story of detransition keeps our bodies stuck in this moment of revulsion and regret, narratively preventing us as characters from being able to move on and live happy lives in atypical bodies. Even if you do regret/dislike some things about T, you are not forever stuck in that feeling. The story does not stop at that! You will just keep living and find new ways of dealing with your bodily feelings!

The social aspect of this is a bit more complicated but I also have some firsthand experience with it. Because, as mentioned before, there's a lot of transphobic misogyny/misogynistic transphobia that affects transmascs & others who go on T, who have to confront the feeling of losing your potential desirability. And then there's also the way many people are treated after going on T, facing a whole new area of bodily scrutiny: you may suddenly have people making comments about how someone needs to force teenage boys to shave because their facial hair is a personal offense. I went from being self-conscious about how high my voice was to being self-conscious about how undeniably trans my voice was. And, specifically, my facial hair, voice changes, etc. were all signs of my transmasculine desire, and I became self-conscious about how obvious it was that I desired being trans, I desired this body. I could no longer let everyone pretend I was a cishet girl at family gatherings and avoid confronting these issues, because I had essentially written I WANT TO BE A TRANNY all over my physical form.

This is something I'm still struggling with myself. I, like many other queer & autistic people, already struggled with feeling desirable or worthy of being seen alongside conventionally attractive cishet people who could act normal. Being visibly trans, and taking a huge step away from the desirable cis-perisex-girl body, can really open up that can of worms. Especially being genderfluid/genderqueer! Because we often cannot find a comfortable space for ourselves within the conventions of attractiveness for cis men, like some binary trans men are able to.

But ultimately, I don't regret going on T at all. I would have had body issues regardless, and I got a lot out of going on T. I think mentally preparing yourself to struggle with these things, and seeking out other transmasc people, is a big help. Again: all of life is irreversible. we cannot go back a single second. We are already living in imperfect bodies we struggle to love or see as worthy. If you know you want some of the things T can offer, and you don't want to go your whole life without knowing, then just do it. Dive in, and don't feel any shame if you decide to get out. Just keep living and finding ways to live better right now.

#m.#ask box

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silveryclear · 7 months

Text

STNAF Coraline AU ch.5

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

CW: Sexual Content, Knife play (with scissors), Dry Humping, Thigh Ridding, Reader wears lingerie but gender is not specified, Nipple Worship, Penetration, Fingering, Versatile, Soft/Rough Sex, Creampie

A/N: I severely underestimated just how long the sex scene ended up being (I don’t think any of you are complaining lmao) so consider this the precursor— chapter 5.1, if you will~

Chapter 5

You make your way into the same bedroom you just left behind. But you knew it was different, you could sense that this was the same place you thought you could only see in your dreams.

Your mind could barely make sense of this, too distraught to focus on the implications of this world as you call out to the person you know that will comfort you.

Other Friend almost immediately appears, making his way to you. His eyebrows furrow, button eyes gazing at your disheveled state on the floor. You feel Other Friend’s strong arms embrace your body, picking you up and placing you on the bed as he sits by your side.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Other Friend’s sweet voice lulled you into a sense of comfort you so desperately needed.

You slowly raise your head, your teary eyes gazing into his concerned button ones. “H-He… He didn’t come…” You hiccup, wiping your tears. “He p-promised he would! Why didn’t he come?!”

“Shhh… I’m so sorry, baby… You don’t deserve this.” Other Friend’s arms embrace you once again as you sob into his chest.

You let yourself be comforted by your Other Friend, clinging onto him tightly as he cradled you on the bed. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear. However, words aren’t enough to relieve the pain of your broken heart. You wanted to feel loved. You needed it— craved it at this exact moment.

“Friend… I need you.” You whimper softly, clutching his shirt tightly.

“I’m right here baby…” He coos softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nooo…” You whine and press your body against his, making him blush and raise his eyebrows in surprise. “I need you.”

Other Friend tenses once it dawns on him. Your desperate and disheveled state igniting a part of him that he worked hard to conceal from you. He swallows, his expression darkening as his lust awakens.

In your current disarrayed mind, it made absolute sense to press your lips against Other Friend’s ones, to push him onto his back as you straddle his hips, kissing him feverishly. Other Friend has barely any time to the situation, only to act on instinct as this was the thing he’s been craving for the most ever since you set foot into his domain. You may not be kissing him for the right reasons, but in his eyes, you are exactly where you were always meant to be.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groans into your lips, biting your lower lip and pulling away softly just to grip you by your waist and press you closer, wanting to feel your body. “you’re going to be the death of me…” He murmurs, his words ringing true in your ears. He claims your lips once again.

He kissed you with passion and fervor, your warm breaths mixing with each other as well as the soft moans and grunts you both let out as your bodies grind in need of friction.

Out of nowhere, Other Friend pulls out a pair of sharp scissors and makes large cuts along your clothing, startling you momentarily. He only grins at your slightly frightened state and pecks your lips as he continues to discard the the pieces of cloth. “You’re not going to be needing this…” He whispers, the cool steel tip of the scissors lightly grazing your skin, making you shiver in fear and arousal.

You are left in your underwear and you blush with embarrassment at the pieces you were wearing. Other Friend remains silent for a few seconds, taking in the intricate designs and details and how they make every curve, bump and roll appear even more delectable. His breathing grows ragged, his button eyes darkening as a sense of jealousy comes over him, but quickly disappears as he remembers that you are begging him to make you feel good, not his doppelgänger.

“These, however, are too pretty to destroy~” He whispers against the skin of your shoulder as he trails hot, wet kisses down your chest. He licks your nipples through the sheer fabric and you gasp out in pleasure, gripping his shoulders.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay, sweetheart?” He murmurs, looking up at you as his long tongue swirls and dances along your perked nipples.

“Nngh… yes, please…” You whisper, your voice hoarse and your eyes and cheeks puffy from your crying. This only turns him on more.

He grips your waist tighter and grinds your hips against his thigh, making you tremble and moan from the friction on your sex.

“Hump my thigh, baby… I wanna see how you’ll get off on my cock.”

You whimper at his words as you move your hips along his thigh, holding onto his shoulders as you feel the pleasurable sensations travel your body. You close your eyes and arch your back, as if making a show out of yourself for him— to show him how much you really want him.

Other Friend could only watch in awe as you got yourself off on his thigh, his breathing labored as your wet arousal made a mess of your underwear and his clothed thigh. He placed his hand on the nape of your neck and brought you closer, his nose brushing against your neck as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. You shivered and rutted faster.

Other Friend chuckles at your desperation. “That’s it sweetheart… use me… I’m yours~” He groans, his hot breath fanning your ear. His lips delve into the soft skin of your neck and leaves a trail of kisses and gentle bites. He bounces his thigh gently, gazing in awe as your jaw falls slack and your eyes widen— breathy sounds of pleasure escape your lips as the movement sends vibrations of ecstasy from your groin straight into your brain and the rest of your already agitated body.

“Hhghnn… mine…” You let out a strained moan, your mind and body on autopilot as you relinquish yourself to the pleasure. The sounds of your needy and possessive whines along with the squelching and rutting of fabrics almost makes him cum in his pants. His hard cock was already straining against the clothing, and the movement of your hips made the brush of his cock against his pants just the more sensitive.

He stifles a moan, his breathing ragged as he shuts his eyes. His dick dripping enough pre cum to stain through his pants. A particularly whiny moan of yours snaps his button eyes open as he lets out a low growl, sounding possessive and desperate. You shiver in delight as your hips stutter slightly before picking up the pace.

Other Friend chuckles darkly as he conjures a bottle of lube out of thin air and pulls your underwear aside. “Do you like this, baby~?” He growls lowly, his voice laced with lust. You nod your head enthusiastically, grinding you hips harder. “You want me to finger you good and deep?”

You’re barely given any room to respond before you feel Other Friend’s cold, slimy fingers prod at your hole, making you gasp and arch your back at the sensation. “F-Friend… ahhhh~!” You groan and whine when you feel your best friends long fingers delve deeper and pump shallowly. You stop humping his thigh and begin to ride his hand instead, pressing and grinding your sex onto the palm of his hand while two fingers scissor and stretch out your hole in preparation for what’s to come.

“My sweetheart’s so needy~” He giggles and inserts another finger just to see you writhe and squirm above him. “You wanna ride me, yeah? You wanna jump on your best friend’s cock?” He teases you with a sadistic grin on his face as he pumps his fingers faster and deeper, wet, squelching sounds echoing the room along with your desperate moans.

“Yes! Yes I wanna!” You cry out, tears brimming the corner of your eyes from the intense pleasure burning within your lower body. “Please… I need you!”

“F-Fuck…” Other Friend breathes out, a growl sounding from deep within his throat from your unexpected pleading. This only fueled his obsession and need for you even more as he couldn’t wait to see you bounce on his cock.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his pants and boxers, his large dick bobbing free. His cockhead was red and weeping with arousal, his length twitching like crazy just from having you stare at it with wide eyes with slight fear, but mostly desire. Other Friend grins and slowly takes his fingers out of your pulsating hole, making you whine from the emptiness. With the same lubrication and slick, he pumps his cock with slow, languid thrusts, smearing his precum and covering his throbbing cock with your juices.

You squirm with anticipation, your hips bucking against nothing as you imagine just how full Other Friend’s cock will make you feel.

“Come on, baby…” He smirks, his voice a seductive purr. “Ride me like you mean it~”

You don’t need to be told twice before you’re straddling his hips and gently lowering yourself onto his thick cock. You hiss and groan slightly as you feel his girth stretch you out further than his fingers did. Other Friend grips your hips, a strangled moan making past his lips as he feels your warm, wet heat slowly envelope him. He takes a sharp intake of breath once he feels you raise and lower yourself at a slow pace, getting accustomed to his size.

“Mmm… so big…” you moan absentmindedly as you continue to grind your hips, not noticing Other Friend’s slacked jaw as he gazes at you like a deity. His button eyes glaze over with primal lust and as he leans closer to beg into your ear.

“C-Can I fuck you? Please baby… you feel too good… let me make you feel good please baby please…” He murmurs, nipping and sucking on your ear.

As soon as you nod, Other Friend grips your hips tighter and makes a few deep, tentative thrusts that left you reeling and holding onto his shoulders for support. Once you manage to catch your breath, his gentle thrusts become an assault to your hole as he pounds into you like a beast in heat.

“F-Friend..! Hhhh… hahhh…” You moan lewdly as he rams his cock from underneath you, his button eyes unwavering from you.

Other Friend grunts with every thrust, his pace only quickening once his cockhead brushes against the part that has you arching your back and moaning from ecstasy.

“Yes… yes! Oh god…”

“Fuck, sweetheart… I can feel you clenching around me…” He grunts, keeping a steady pace as he fucks you fast and deep. “You like it when I fuck you like this, huh? Tell me how much you want me…”

“I want you, Friend… I want you so bad..!” You cry out, bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

He groans, gripping your hips impossibly tighter as he feels the pleasure slowly build up within him. “Fuck… you feel too good baby… I’m about to cum…” He murmurs in a low, breathy tone.

“M-Me too…” You whimper softly, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his neck as he keeps thrusting into you with fervor. “I… I want it… I want your cum…”

His hips stutter as soon as you said those words. He quickly recovers and becomes more vocal, rutting deeper and faster as his breath came out in quick pants. “Mine… you’re mine…” He growls lowly as he lines his cock to hit your weak spot. “Mine to keep… mine to claim…”

“Please please please please…” You keep chanting and whining desperately.

“Fuck baby, I’m cumming…!” Other Friend moans hoarsely as he spurts ribbons upon ribbons of hot cum inside of you, filling you to the brim with his seed. As soon as you feel him release, you come undone on his cock, shaking and writhing above him as he fucks his cum deeper with a few particularly harsh thrusts that have you seeing stars.

“Ahhhh… hahhhhh… Friend…” you moan into his neck as your body slumped on top of his, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I’ve got you baby…” He kisses your forehead and holds you tightly against him. “I’ve got you…”

Slowly, drowsiness begins to creep into your body. Your breathing evens out and you rest your head on Other Friend’s shoulder, relaxing in his embrace. In your blissed out state, you barely remember the reason why you sought Other Friend’s comfort, but that barely matters now as he wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you to sleep.

Chapter 6

#yandere #fanfic #stnaf #yandere writing #yandere x reader #friend x reader #stnaf friend #stnafgame #yandere smut #smut #coraline au #coraline #💾 see thru need a friend game

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