#i fucking missed a deadline last night
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i think i may have bitten off more than i can chew
#i'm not doing well in my classes#but i /should/ be is the problem#i cant make sense of why i'm not#i fucking missed a deadline last night#that i /thought/ i had hit bc i /thought/ i had gotten the confirmation email#i got an f on my first code bc i'm a fuckin dumbass#i got an f on the last stats lab dont even know why#like overall i think i've got b's all around except for my cs class#but fuck me dude i've always been a solid 3.6 student without even trying#and now that i /am/ trying#i'm failing at it#idek#also just. i hate being alive and living and all that jazz#and maybe i'm doing bad things to my mental health bc i've been researching chernobyl and ratiation sickness for the last week#but yeah#woke this morning and desperately wanted to sink back into bed and disappear#vent
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stayed up super late last night with friends doing halloween stuff (getting drunk and spilling tea) knowing full well that i had to get up early today to go to a quince out of town . i am awake against my will and regretting many decisions
#peach rambles#not staying up late and getting drunk. Let me be clear. that is my natural habitat#i regret rsvping for this quince that happens halloween weekend which just so happens to apparently be the busiest weekend of my goddamn#life. im exhausted from a week’s worth of lack of sleep and i am also no where near done with three of my monday deadlines#and i am losing an entire day (?) of work to this quince.#also it’s halloween weekend i should be getting drunk and looking hot😭😭😭😭#instead i am in the passenger seat of my father’s truck attempting to pretend i am alive#he called me this morning to say how far away he was from my house#but i missed the call because i kept on pressing snooze because. Obvious Reasons. and when i saw that he called#i called him back and he was like ‘im ten minutes from your house’ bitch i hadn’t even packed for the night yet. i was still fully in bed#i feel like if i close my eyes for too long im going to have a category five sleep incident. whatever that means#i think i forgot to pack a bra? fucking. i don’t know#i brought my computer so that i could possibly work but there’s absolutely no charger to speak of in#this vicinity. fuck. and uhhhhh i look like death but the only makeup i have is a singular eyebrow pencil#and the remnants of my eyeliner from last night. also the fake blood still in my fingernails#speaking of fake blood i bloodied my shit up for real last night which was very high risk high reward for me#the blood was four bucks from walmart and said that it stained skin and i was like#what a perfect product to cover my face and body in the day before i go to a family function#it ended up working out because i looked fucking good and i took a shower before i went to sleep#(did NOT check how i looked before i went to bed so this morning when i looked in the mirror and say i was blood-free it was a miracle)#but anyway. yeah. i want to pass out
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AND once again chrissy b mail void continues
i shouldnt get out of bed today everything already sucks
#night is an absolute mess on main#i'd love to just play games today but i have deadlines on things and im stressed ugh#everything fucking sucks i hate this#also yes i al selfishly upset that the art from last night didnt make the impact i was hoping for and yeah#hard work doesnt pay off until two weeks later when i get to actually hand these out but ughh#i'll shut up today dont miss me im on a verge of a mental breakdown woo
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Profs are officially on strike. I’m really having shitty luck with school apparently
#drop out of high school bc of depression#get my diploma in night school but miss the college app deadline#take a year off then get into college#but oh no there’s a pandemic that fucked over my last two months of colllege#get into uni though! but wait there’s a pandemic so everything is online for the foreseeable#oh also you can’t have a college grad bc COVID#uni decides that the pandemic is over enough for students to return to campus… kinda#basically it’s teach yourself online but come to class to do practicals#and then yay! everything is back in person! except you have to take math and math fucking hates your guts#and then I get fed up switch majors and then the uni says to the profs#fuck you we’re not gonna pay you a living wage#and the profs (rightfully) say ‘well I guess we’re gonna have to strike 🤷♀️’#and we’re now in the present and I can conclude that I have not had one single normal or easy year of schooling in over a decade#penguinsomething#personal
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attachment: 1 image
myoui mina x fem!reader ; smut
synopsis: your girlfriends a model and you’re always clocked in so it’s reeeaaally hard for you to get intimate and goddddd mina’s getting impatient and sexually frustrated so she takes matters into her own hands.
warnings: smut ; filthy!! ; did someone say sub reader? ; sub!reader!!!!! ; mina is a model ; reader is in forensics ; somnophilia ; thigh riding ; fingering ; mentions of stitches ; bruises ; blood ; small easter egg if you’ve read one of my jihyo fics ; not proofread ; anything else i forgot to mention
a/n: muahhahahaa
attachment: 1 image
your phone buzzes, and usually you’d ignore it considering you have to meet this deadline– but when you look at your phone, seeing the small pixels of your girlfriend getting a kiss on the cheek from you in the contact picture and the little “minari” on the screen; you quickly grab your phone, clicking on the notification.
jesus. is all you can think of when you see the picture, you’re surprised you can think after seeing it.
mina – your girlfriend, your oh-so-lovely girlfriend, the girl of your dreams, the model you managed to get into a relationship with after spilling all of your drink on at one of sana’s parties, your everything and more – is leaned over against a balcony, eyes looking into the camera seductively. her makeup is light, a strand of her bangs fall over her forehead and then you glimpse down. you feel your chest tighten as soon you see the panties peeking out, pants slipping down so you can get a tantalizing glimpse of the skin and–
you groan.
it’s four, and you’re working overtime – again; there are too many cases to examine and report – you can’t be riled up, especially not now. biting your lip, you put your phone down, deciding to push everything to the side.
getting back to work is not easy.
minari: 1 notification
“you fucking hate me.” is mumbled under your breath before you peek over, unlocking your phone quickly to see a text:
minari: don’t ignore me baby
minari: miss you
minari: did you like the picture?
oh you loved the picture, loved it so much that you wonder what it would be like to rip the clothes she has on right off of her.
you: :-(
you: please dont do this to me
you: i’m working overtime
you: when will you be back?
minari: this weekend, friday night
you groan again, sitting back in your chair in defeat. that’s three days.
you: i have to get back to work
you: the things i’d do to you
you: you’re a pain in the ass
on the other side of the line, mina giggles. she’s satisfied with her effect on you, she can just picture the little crease of your brows, the frown, and really just how cute you look when you’re all pouty and impatient.
she bites the inside of her lip after reading the second to last text from you, thinking about just what you could do to her, until she’s interrupted by one of the photographers. it isn’t easy to model when she’s missing you, she’d much rather show off her luxury panties to you than the cameras.
–
you’re beat. literally and figuratively.
as someone accustomed to the comfort and safety of the forensics lab and the routine of the department, being dragged into a chase on a friday night is far from what you expected. you had plans to go home and wait for your girlfriend, ready to greet her with a hug and something more – but no, of course you had been caught in a pursuit.
after being treated by the nurses, they hand you a slip of paper for a follow-up check-up, but you wave it off, insisting that you'll be fine. however, it's clear that jihyo, the detective, has endured much worse. fresh stitches on her ribs, bruises covering her upper back and arms, a bloody nose, and a cut on her jaw, she's clearly been through a rough ordeal, thankfully spiderwoman stepped into help you all out.
in comparison, your injuries seemed minor—a smack to the ribs, a punch or two to the face, and a close call with a punch that grazed your temple, resulting in a bit of blood and a bandage to cover it.
when you finally get to your car, exhausted and limp against the seat, you check your phone while you wait for the air conditioning to turn on.
there’s seven new messages from mina, earning a sigh.
you read through all of them, each one slowly getting more worrisome as you scroll, which paints a frown on your lips.
[6:03pm]
minari: i just got home
minari: where are you?
[7:44pm]
minari: i bet you’re busy, stay safe
minari: i’ll be waiting here
minari: love you, i hope you’re okay
[10:30pm}
minari: going to bed, i’ll see you soon love
minari: thinking of you
[10:58pm]
minari: wish you were here, goodnight, i love you
the pain that’s spread throughout your body doesn’t bother you anymore; the thought of your girlfriend alone in bed – finally home after her two week-long work trip – makes you groan frustratedly as you lean your face against the wheel of your car.
you’ve got to get home.
–
it’s almost midnight when you get to your apartment and you don’t even make it to the bedroom.
you underestimated the toll of the fatigue, the bruises, and the damage done to your body – not to mention the countless sleepless hours leading up to this chaotic night. you've been tirelessly investigating various dna samples and physical evidence, neglecting your much-needed rest in favor of focusing on your work and trying to distract yourself from missing your girlfriend too much because that is already enough to throw you in a spiral.
as soon as you catch sight of the couch, you practically collapse onto it, sinking into the cushions with a sense of relief. leaning back lazily, you feel the heaviness of your eyelids, each blink a struggle to keep them open for just a little longer.
mina crosses your mind and you feel sorry for leaving her alone, but you physically can’t do anything about that.
the exhaustion catches up to you, and then you find yourself passing out on the couch with your work clothes still on, tie loose, and no energy left to fight off the drowsiness.
–
mina wakes up earlier than usual – still alone.
the sun hasn’t even risen yet, and she had expected to find you lazily draped over her, maybe with the blanket slipping off the bed and the feeling of your breath gently warming her skin. but as she wakes, she realizes that the blanket is still snugly wrapped around her, and her skin feels oddly cold.
she blinks once, then twice, and still, you’re not there.
getting up and reaching over blindly for her phone, she unlocks it groggily, opening your messages to see a “read, 11:40pm”
mina furrows her brows, rubbing her squinted eyes to read the same message on the screen. she feels a pang of worry as she wonders why you haven't responded or called, and why you're not next to her right now. hastily, she checks your location, clicking on your contact photo, and then freezes in disbelief.
you're home?
the contact picture she has of you—your smushed face with drool leaving the corner of your lip—is only half a centimeter away from her on the screen. with a sense of urgency, she jumps out of bed and rushes to find you.
she walks out of the hall and into the living room, catching a glimpse of the back of your head on the couch. mina lets out a sigh of relief, walking over and standing in front of your figure.
you look adorable, sitting up against the couch with your head leaned back on the cushion. you stay frozen in place, the only movement coming from the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, which tells mina that you’re out. your hair is disheveled, you're still in your work clothes, and there's a new band-aid beside your brow on your temple. mina finds herself captivated by the sight, unable to tear her gaze away.
“long night, i bet.” mina mumbles, sitting down next to you and putting her head on your shoulder. you don’t budge, still remaining in your place.
mina kisses your cheek before returning to your shoulder, deciding to rest her eyes with you for a while more.
–
your girlfriend wakes up a few hours later – you’re still asleep by her side, still frozen in your place.
mina rubs her eyes against your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your body as she stirs awake for the second time that morning. fishing for her phone, she checks the time: 11:31 am. glancing back at you, still sound asleep, she decides it's time for both of you to start the day. she hasn't even had a chance to greet you while you were awake yet, and she misses your attention.
she presses a kiss to your cheek – no response.
pouting, she presses a few more to your cheek – you stay frozen in place, eyes closed and breathing still relaxed.
then she moves over to your jawline, pressing a few pecks and moving down to your neck, the spot that earns the most from you – there’s a reaction, a small groan from you, and then you shift in your place – still no sign of consciousness.
mina's never been a morning person, which only adds to her frustration. with a whine, she moves over to straddle you, settling herself on your lap.
“c’mon, i’ve been waiting for you.” she says, and still, it doesn’t wake you up. “wearing the same lingerie from the pictures and you’re still like this…”
not only is she frustrated from missing you, she’s been irritated from how sex-deprived she’s been.
she brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, gently fixing the mess from whatever ordeal you endured last night, before taking a good look at you. the morning sunlight highlights the contours of your jawline, making your skin glow, and the slight parting of your lips adds to your allure.
you look good—maybe even better than usual—and mina can't help but feel a surge of desire, fueled by her deprivation of you.
she tugs gently on the tie wrapped loosely around your neck, coaxing you forward. your head naturally falls forward in response, so mina tilts it up by the chin, cradling your face between her fingers.
“you look so cute,” mina sighs, rubbing a thumb over your skin. “i could take you like this.”
the two of you have talked about this – about fucking while one is asleep – and neither one of you was against it. however, it’s never actually happened, and sure mina’s daydreamed about this, and you have too, but she never thought there’d actually be such a perfect moment in time.
you’re asleep, looking all pretty, perfect, and downright fuckable – mina can’t help but bite her lip at the sight, grinding down against your lap a bit.
she shifts over to straddle one thigh in order to gain more friction, gasping at the second movement of her hips against you.
“maybe,” a small breath leaves her lips, “this’ll wake you up.”
another rut against your slacks and she’s shutting her eyes, fully waking herself up at the feeling.
mina’s usually never this horny, or bold for that matter, but after two weeks without her girlfriend with barely any time to talk to one another – she’s a whole new person.
holding onto one shoulder – earning a small mumble from you – mina grinds against you again. she’s only wearing your t-shirt, which sits loosely on her, and the panties from the picture she had sent – they’re soaked now.
her arms rest on the top of your shoulders now, and wrap around your neck as she clings onto you desperately. she feels hazy, seeing stars the faster she stimulates herself on you, and you have no fucking clue what’s going on. it honesly turns her on even more, getting to use you like this.
and when she thinks it can’t get anymore overwhelming, the feeling of her cunt against you, the thrill of making a mess of herself against you – she feels a rough, firm grip on her hips, then moves her head away from your neck to see your eyes slowly opening.
“baby, w-what?” you sigh out lazily, trying to process everything that’s going on, “what are you–”
mina cuts you off with a kiss, to which you respond immediately with a hand cupping her cheek, and your lips fitting with hers perfectly.
your girlfriend shudders against you, looking down at her cunt leaving a dark mark of arousal on your gray bottoms, then latches her lips onto your jawline. she leaves sensual kisses, waking you up from your deep sleep immediately. you melt as your hands reach the base of her neck.
she presses a peck on your upper jaw before muttering into your ear, “i missed– ah– you,” she says breathily.
“me too baby,” you respond with a sly smile, using your hands to push her down on your skin roughly, eliciting a loud moan into your ear.
she leans back, placing one hand on your shoulder while the other grabs the end of your tie. with a swift tug on the black cloth, you gasp in surprise. your face is close, close enough for mina to see your dilated pupils, creased brows, and flushed cheeks. it all adds to the allure, and tightens the knot in her stomach.
“y-you– fuck– left me all alone… l-last– god, nngh– night,” she struggles to say, especially when your thigh flexes. her hips jerk once before she grabs your hair roughly, then she throws her head back slightly, still making eye contact with you.
all your attention is on her, your eyes wide and pleading, like a puppy ready to answer and do anything she says. there's a mix of longing and desperation in your gaze, making you look arousingly pathetic and utterly irresistible simultaneously.
she tugs on your tie once more, earning a small whine, then orders: “you’re going to make me— u-ugh, cum, okay?”
you nod eagerly, already helping her please herself against you with both hands again.
quickly, you tap your thigh up and rut her against you once more, the sensation and timing earns something near a yelp from her. mina pauses in her place and you feel her lower body vibrate against you as her high washes over, she practically melts, and her body goes a little limp as she tries to catch her breath.
you hold her tightly, supporting her body as it recovers from the overwhelming feeling.
there’s a large, darkened spot on the cloth covering your whole thigh now, her arousal leaking over.
she kisses you again, basically taking the breath away from you. she traps your bottom lip between her two teeth, tugging gently to tease you – your grip on her tightens.
“y/n,” she says, climbing off your thigh and settling beside you.
you respond immediately, “yes?”
her hands toy with your tie again before she pulls dangerously. you whimper, biting the inside of your bottom lip. her manicured nails trace along your skin all the way up to the bandaid on your temple; you sigh out pathetically.
“where were you last night?” mina questions, letting her nail trace down your skin languidly. “no text, call, or girlfriend in my bed after two weeks of not seeing her.”
“i-i–” she tugs on your tie once more, tantalizingly, before rubbing two fingers on the cloth covering your cunt.s “mmf, i-i was caught in a pursuit and, we got into some um– some disagreements.” she presses on your cunt and your head shoots back – mina pulls again, making your head jerk forward to meet her dark gaze. “mina, please–”
“keep going, i didn’t tell you to stop, did i?”
you gulp. “n-no.”
she unzips your slacks now, skillfully unbuttoning it with one hand so she can play with your waistband. you fight the urge to look down, pleading with your eyes in an attempt for her to just fucking touch you.
pulling on the cloth again, she orders, “keep going.”
then she slides her fingers in, teasing your skin by rubbing circles above where you need it most. “j-jihyo um, she was beat up really–” mina presses against your clit, brushing her fingers over it softly and pushing your buttons. “fuck, really badly, a-and i– mmf–”
“you what, love?”
“p-please, please i need you, please just–”
“are you done with the story? i still don’t know why i woke up alone, and to find you dead asleep on the couch.” her tone is viscious, which makes you gulp again.
“s-sorry,” you apologize, looking down at her hand in your panties. “i waited until everyone was, patched up and–” you throw your head back at the feeling of her fingers sliding up and down your slit. she tugs – you whimper, “s-sorry. and i saw your text and had to go home and– god, i had to rush home and by the time i–”
you feel her enter you just barely, pressing just the tip of her finger inside you, making you squirm and moan breathily. your head shoots down, your eyes shutting in response to the overwhelming stimulus. mina's touch is grueling as her fingers trail up to your chin, caressing it with a sensual tenderness. she tilts your head back up, and when your eyes meet hers.
“c’mon, use your words.”
“s-sorry, again.” you pant. “i got home and, t-these past weeks i couldn’t sleep without y-you and–” she pushes half of her middle finger in; you bite back a groan in order to finish your explanation. “i-i guess it caught up to me, and then i passed out here.” you sigh out quickly, looking at her deperately.
“you haven’t been taking care of yourself?” mina asks, looking at you pitifully. her hand cups your cheek now, “love…”
“i just, missed you.”
mina frowns, rubbing her thumb on your cheek. “let me take care of you baby.”
“please,” you beg, “just, god, just touch me already.”
mina kisses your lips again, and as she does so, you groan into her lips as she pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt.
they enter seamlessly, earning a desperate mix of a cry and a whimper out of those puffy lips of yours. she brings her fingers out, and with the same thrill – pushes them back in, almost double the force. your hand grips your own thigh, overwhelmed by the way she flattens her palm against your clit, tormenting your pussy.
mina’s lips start to roam your neck, leaving marks that’ll stay for days, marks that’ll have you reprimanded but you don’t fucking care. she’s been gone for two weeks, way too long and fucking yourself to pictures of her on your phone could never compare to what you’re feeling right now.
she can feel your tightening around her fingers, you were always so easy to rile up, so sensitive and vocal about everything that made you feel good. so when she curls her fingers and feels your hand snake to her hair, practically pulling it off her scalp, she knows you’re close already.
and then you’re lazily grinding your hips against her, slacks now caught at your ankles as your panties start to soak up the arousal leaking from your entrance. your legs close, but mina opens them, getting rougher with her fingers and hitting your clit with her palm.
“m-mina,” you whine, “i’m close, god, so close,”
“yeah?” she says softly, in a way that sends a shiver throughout your whole body. “cum for me then, c’mon baby, you deserve it after all your hard work.”
you manage to look her in the eye, brows creased to oblivion and your jaw dropped before it picks itself up so you can mutter a shaky “m–hmm.”
her thumb moves swiftly to brush your clit, which is enough to send you over the edge, leaving you to shake against the couch and rock your hips up. she watches you cry out, the rise of your chest – then the fall, and feels her hand grow damp with your climax.
she continues to massage your clit, sliding her fingers up and down your entrance simultaneously to let you ride out your high, bringing you back down to earth, letting your vision go from hazy to normal again.
“m-mina, fuck, baby,” is all you can mutter before she pulls you forward with your tie, kissing your swollen, reddened lips. your words muffle against her and your hands grip her shoulder tightly before loosening the more you kiss.
you feel dizzy, dizzy in the best way possible with her lips on yours, tongues swirling and kisses growing sloppier.
and then mina pulls away one more time, twisting the fabric of your tie around her pointer as she gazes at you; dark red marks – almost purple, each the size of a quarter – are plastered on the skin of your neck, your eyes are closed as you breath heavily, and your hair is even more ruffled than before. you’re trembling, mina always liked how cute and overstimulated you are after you cum, so riled up and thrown off that it makes her want to kiss you till you’re struggling to bring air into your lungs.
she brings a hand to your hair, brushing the messy strands that hang over your pretty face in order to then cup your cheeks again. she smiles at you, grinning at the mess she’s made.
“awake now?”
“very.” you sigh out, bringing your hand over to her thigh to rub circles on it. “i’m really sorry for leaving you alone last night.”
mina shakes her head. “it’s fine, you had your job to do love.”
“i would’ve enjoyed doing you instead.” you joke, pouting at her cutely. “god, do you know how annoying it is to be horny when your girlfriend isn’t home?”
your girlfriend rests her head against the cushion, then turns to face you. “oh i know. i waited all night for you, you know?”
turning to her and giving her an apologetic frown, you apologize again, “sorry.”
mina rolls her eyes at you, giggling.
she holds your hand and uses the other to brush her fingers over the marks she’s made on your neck, making your breath hitch.
“make it up to me with a few more rounds?”
yeah, you’re tired as hell, even after eleven hours of sleep. you’ve just came and it took the life out of you – plus, you’re seriously just exhausted, but the way your cunt throbs at the suggestion urges you to lean over and kiss her again.
you pull away, lips brushing against hers before you answer against her, “ruin me.”
#twice x reader#kpop x reader#twice imagines#mina x reader#twice mina#myoui mina x reader#myoui mina#twice smut
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Summary: anon request - "can you write a smut for johnnie guilbert??"
Prompt: Johnnie and reader get into an argument which leads to make up sex.
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, arguing, hair pulling, pet names (dirty and cute), oral (m rec), unprotected rough makeup sex, filth
Word count: 2.6k | not edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
Johnnie has been working on editing his and Jake's video all day.
You think, no. You knew he forgot about them.
It wouldn't be as big of a deal if this was only the first time, maybe even the second or third - But it wasn't.
Over the last few weeks, you've had to either cancel or forget about plans because of Johnnie putting majority of his time into his computer screen rather than you.
You didn't really talk to anyone about it, or say anything to Johnnie, mainly because this is his job and you didn't think you had any room to bitch.
You checked your phone, sighing at the time - twenty minutes past reservation.
You used to remind him, then after the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth time, you decided that he should be able to put down the computer for an hour or two on his own, so you decided to just let things go.
You never really blamed him, sometimes it was because he actually had deadlines to make, or a video he and Jake were doing ran long.
But when that wasn't the case, you used yourself as an excuse - not feeling well, didn't sleep good the night before, something simple yet believable.
You rise up from the couch, walking towards Johnnie's room. You pass Jake in the hallway and he makes a joke you're in no mood for, "Fix your face, you look pissed."
His laughter is silenced when you roll your eyes, "I am."
"Uh oh." Jake puts his hands on his hips, shifting his weight onto his right leg, "What did Johnnie do?"
You shake your head and cross your arms, looking away from him because you didn't want him to see the frustrated tears in your eyes.
"Am I going to hear yelling?" He asks and you nod, laughing slightly, "Probably."
"Shit." He sighs, "Well if you need backup, just yell- ooh. We should have a code word."
You stare at him, trying not to laugh as he taps his chin, "Hippopotamus."
"Hippop- Jake. Really?" You laugh and he shrugs, "Well yeah, if you just scream hippopotamus, that will for sure throw him off even more, then I can come in with an open can of whoop ass."
He moves his hands in front of him, a serious look on his face that you just cannot take serious, "Okay. I don't think I'll need it, but I appreciate the support."
You pat his shoulder, watching him walk away before taking a deep breath, returning to what you were originally doing.
You stop in front of Johnnie's door, composing yourself so you don't go in, already lit like a fire cracker.
You know twice before opening the door, "Hey."
Johnnie has his headphones on, so he probably didn't hear you. You walk in, closing the door behind you. You walk over to him, gently tapping him on the shoulder.
"Jesus fu-" he jumps and looks up at you, "Jesus Christ, babe." He sighs, "Scared the fucking shit out of me."
"Sorry." You smile slightly and sit on the bed, "Whatcha doin'?"
He pulls his headphones down around his neck, "Just working on getting this video out."
You nod, "Cool. Cool.”
You look around his room, picking at your nails as you try and figure out how to calmly start the conversation.
"What's wrong?" Johnnie asks turning his chair towards you. You look over at him and shrug, "We just.." you laugh slightly, "It's not really funny, but we missed our dinner reservation."
He looks in the corner of his computer, "Oh fuck. I'm sorry." He looks up, "Why didn't you tell me?"
You scoff, raising your brows as you lower your voice, "I shouldn't have to."
"What? Sorry. I didn't quite hear you clearly." Johnnie closes his lap top and sets it on the desk.
You roll your eyes, lying back with a groan, "I'm not arguing with you Johnnie."
"I'm sorry, I must missed the part where I said we were?" He takes his headphones from around his neck, setting them on top of his closed computer.
You sit up, letting out a sigh, "I said, I shouldn't have to tell you when we have plans, Johnnie." You let your hands fall into your lap with a slap, "I let it go for a while, only because I didn't think I have a right to be mad, but you constantly editing and this or that is effecting us."
"So what.. are you saying?" He stares at you with a solid look, "You're going to leave? All because I'm doing my fucking job?"
"No." Your words come out louder than you intended, "I never fucking said I was leaving, Johnnie. All I said was that I shouldn't have to fucking remind you time and time again that we have plans for us. You and me. Boyfriend and fucking girlfriend!"
"Other than right now, name one fucking time me doing this made us miss out on something." He motions for you to take the floor and you sigh.
"Sam and Colby were throwing a party, I told them you had a deadline to make so we wouldn't make it. Tara was throwing a party, I told her I didn't feel good because you stayed up all night and half the day working on a video. Last week we missed out on dinner, again, because you didn't pay attention to the time. Two weeks ago, Jake wanted us to go with him to one of his other friend's parties, but you decided to get on and stream. Do you want me to keep going?" You raise your brows and lean forward slightly, "Because I can."
Johnnie laughs, "So.. you're telling me that you couldn't just come to me an hour or so before and tell me to get off? You're just blaming me for every time you missed out on going when you could have just gone yourself?"
"You want me to go to dinner, for two.. alone?" You tilt your head back, "You are being so unbelievable right now."
You stand up and Johnnie's eyes follow you. Your hands go to your hips as you pace back and forth, "I'm trying to get you to understand that I want- I need time with you, too Johnnie."
"You get time with me, y/n. I don't understand why you're so worked up over me d-"
"Because it's all you fucking do Johnnie. You're always filming a video. Editing a video. Uploading a video. Something with a stupid video." You turn to face him, "I want to go out to dinner, enjoy time with just us. Do you think I want to go to parties alone? It's no fun when I don't have you there."
He sighs, looking down, "So.." he looks up at you, "You waited until it was what, twenty minutes or so after our reservation time to come in here and make a huge scene that could have been avoided?"
You laugh, mouth dropped open as you stare at him, "Are you ever going to actually listen to what I'm saying or am I just wasting my breath being a broken record?"
"I am listening, you're just not getting what I'm saying, y/n."
"No. Trust me. I get it. Loud and clear." You motion to his computer, "I'll just leave you to it then."
You turn to walk towards the door, reaching to open it but Johnnie's hand stops you, "Don't."
"Don't what? Leave so I can sit here in silence while you continue to do what got us here in the first place?" You turn your head to look at him and he shakes his head, "No."
He grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the bed, "Were done talking about this."
"No.. I don't think we a-"
He cuts you off with his lips on yours. His hands pull your waist into him, "We're done talking for right now."
"You can't ju-"
"Don't run your mouth anymore, and I won't run mine anymore." He kisses down your neck, "We can talk after we get all of this frustration out."
A smile creeps into your lips, even though you're still mad. But, no worries. Johnnie will take care of that for you right away.
"Fine." You give in, sitting down on the bed. You pull him with you, his body hovering over yours, "Shut me up."
He smirks, tilting his head, "Gladly." He sits up on his knees, taking off his shirt. His hands move to his belt and you sit up to replace his hands with your own.
You glance up at him as you undo his jeans, biting your lip as you anticipate what's about to happen.
He nods towards the floor and you pull your legs out from in between his and move, dropping to the floor as he stands up.
He pushes his jeans down, and you move over to him, pulling down his boxers before he sits down on the edge of the bed.
He leans back, holding his weight up with his hands as he watches you move in between his legs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you wrap your hand around his cock.
His eyes following you as you lean in, sticking your tongue out to lap at the head of it. He groans lowly, balling up the blanket in his fists, "Fuck."
You work him into your mouth, coating him with your spit as his jaw hangs slack, "That's it."
You lift your head, moving your hand up and down to coat him fully before leaning back in to bob your head up and down.
His eyes flutter shut as a moan escapes quietly.
You look up at him, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock as you tilt your head back.
"All the way in, babe." Johnnie places a hand on the back of your head, gently nudging you to come back for more.
You lick your lips, leaning in to take his cock back into your mouth. You bob your head, working further and further down, until you can feel him in your throat.
He groans, stroking the back of your head as you hold yourself there. You squeeze your eyes shut, digging your nails into his thighs before you pop back off, glancing up at him before going back in.
You lift your head, bobbing your head slowly as your tongue flattens against his cock.
"Fuck. Why didn't we just do this first.." He gasps as you sink your head all the way onto him, groaning as bucks his hips slightly, "Fuck okay. Okay."
He lifts your head, cupping your cheeks as he nods to the bed, "Get undressed then lay down."
You move to your feet quickly, pulling your shirt over your head before fumbling to undo your pants. You kick them off, getting ready to climb onto the bed when Johnnie stops you.
"Ah, ah. Panties too, sweetheart."
You nod, pushing them down and kicking them off before finally climbing onto the bed. You turn, facing him as you sit down.
He moves up in front of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. He pushes your body back as he moves his over yours.
He kisses down your chest and over to your boob, taking your nipple between his teeth. You gasp as he bites down, hands moving to his hair to mess it up more, "J-Johnnie.."
You whine, slightly moving your hips, "Please."
He kisses back up, to your lips, moving to lay beside you. He rolls you over so you're laying on your side, hand sliding under your thigh to lift up your leg.
You bite your lip as his hand slides down your body, stopping at your clit to rub small circles onto it.
You arch your back away from his chest, "P-please."
He rests his chin against your head as he slides his fingers down to dip them inside of you, “We don’t need to argue.” His voice is light, quiet, “We should always just fuck it out..”
He slowly moves his fingers in and out, “And then talk. Doesn’t that sound much better?”
You nod, “Y-yeah. So much better.”
“That my girl.” He kisses your head and moves his hand to grab his cock, rubbing it against your pussy a few times before slowly slipping in, “Fuck.”
His arm slides over your waist, hold you to him as he pushes in. You tilt your head back and his lips meet your neck, sucking a spot which earns an even louder moan from you.
“Fuck..” you breathe out, “Johnnie..”
He groans lowly, tightening his grip as he starts to thrust. Your foot rests on his leg as you keep your leg raised, moaning with each of his thrusts.
You lay your hand on his arm, digging your nails in as his thrusts grow harder.
“F-fuck.” You whimper, “Keep going.”
He moans, digging his fingers into your skin, “You feel so fucking good.” He pulls you closer to him as you push your hips back, dragging your nails down his arm , “Yes, yes, yes!”
He pushed your body forward, sitting up and getting on his knees behind you. He pulls your hips up, quickly placing his cock back into you.
Your cheek rests against the bed as you moan, pulling the blanket as his thrusts go right back to being rough.
Your eyes roll back, a string of moans leaving your lips in a constant loudness.
You yelp out as his hand makes contact with your ass with a hard smack. He brings his leg up, giving his cock a new angle that drives you absolutely crazy.
“Such a good fucking girl.” He groans out as he tilts his head back. He brushes his hair from his face before reaching up to grab a handful of your hair.
You tilt your head back, lifting your self up onto your elbows, “F-fuck. Fuck.”
“Wait for me, baby.” Johnnie moans, “Almost there.”
He tugs your hair, pushing his cock all the way, pausing for a second before continuing to thrust, “Shit.”
He lets go of your hair, gripping your hips. You moan, trying hard not to cum like he wants. You push your hips back, whining out as he makes it harder, “P-please.”
Johnnie’s thrusts grow sloppy, “Cum for me.”
Not even the end of his words and you’ve already let go, becoming a whimpering, moaning mess under him as you squeeze his cock repeatedly.
A few seconds later, he pulls out, spilling his cum onto your lover back and ass.
“Fuck.” He strokes himself a few times before falling back and sitting down. You lay down, trying to control your breathing and he lays a hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry for not listening to you.”
“I’m sorry for coming off bitchy.” You laugh slightly, “I was just..” you pause for a second and sigh, “I let my frustration get the best of me.”
“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been fully with us lately, and I promise that..” he taps your leg with each word, “..right now, you have my attention whenever you want it.”
You turn your head to look at him, “You promise?” You hold out your pinky and he smiles as he wraps his around yours, “I promise.”
As Johnnie gets up to get something to wipe off with, Jake yells from the other side of door, “y/n? Do you need a hippopotamus?”
Johnnie looks at you super confused and you can’t help but laugh, “I’ll explain then.”
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
This is my first ever Johnnie one shot, so please let me know how you liked it! I’m interested to hear what you have to say!
Thank you for reading! Love you all! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#samandcolby-ownme#johnnie guilbert#Johnnie Guilbert one shots#Johnnie guilbert smut#Johnnie guilbert smut one shot#Johnnie Guilbert dirty one shot#smut#smut one shot#smutty one shot#smutty Johnnie Guilbert#smut one shot Johnnie Guilbert#run your mouth#one shots#one shot smut#dirty one shot
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Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3
I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.
The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)
I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">
A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!
Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI
It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.
You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.
You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.
You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.
You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.
JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.
He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.
“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.
He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.
“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.
“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”
“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”
Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.
“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”
“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”
“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.
“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.
–X–
After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.
Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.
You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.
The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.
You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.
“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.
Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.
You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.
“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.
More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.
You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.
“Spencer! What's… what are…”
“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.
“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”
You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.
“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”
His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.
“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”
“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”
His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.
His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.
“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.
“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”
His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.
You didn't.
Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.
Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.
He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.
He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.
You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.
It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.
The next one was harder though. It was real.
“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.
“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”
His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.
The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.
You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.
You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.
“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.
It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.
It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.
He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.
“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.
“Y-Yes, Spencer.”
“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.
“Yes, sir.”
“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”
With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.
With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.
With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.
It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.
You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.
His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.
You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.
Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.
And most importantly, he didn't stop.
Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.
“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.
“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”
“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.
“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”
“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”
Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.
But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.
“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”
“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”
He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.
“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.
When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.
After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.
He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.
“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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Stray Kids Reaction | NSFW | Being Stray kids' Stress Toy (HYUNG LINE)
The times you become Skz'z personal stress toy
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: ya girl is back after what feels like 17 years. So sorry for the delay, these ended up being WAY longer than I intended. As a peace offering, I'm releasing hyung line first so I don't keep y'all waiting even longer.
THIS IS NOT EDITED SO PLEASE BE KIND ITS 4AM RN🥹
Warnings: free use (literally all of them), sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, teasing, creampie, orgasm denial, overstimulation, biting, mirror sex, filming, spit kink, blow jobs, boob job, handjobs (It's 4am I'm so tired and definitely missing something, please let me know if something needs to be added)
Read at your own discretion
CHAN
Looking back on it now, you find it funny how this whole arrangement started. You’d been one of the last staff members in the building, having lost a bet to work the night shift. You had just finished prepping for the next shoot when you’d walked by the studios. Seeing Chan’s light on was nothing new, he practically lived in the studio at this point. What was new was the sound of a loud thud shaking the door frame. You’d cautiously opened the door, to find Chan pacing the room.
“Chan? What’s wrong?” you rush into the room, assuming the worst.
“These stupid fucking deadlines. We’re not even finished with this track and they want three by next week on top of schedules, like are you fucking kidding me?!,” he growls out hand slamming against the wall again. You jump as the sound rattles around the room. You try to grab his shoulder gently to calm him. When you grab him he spins around pressing you into his desk. You gasp from the sudden movement, His eyes are dark as he stares down at you, face completely red, though you’re not sure if it’s from the anger he feels or his yelling. When he notices your wide eyed stare he comes back to his senses, taking a deep breath.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s not you y/n. These schedules are just a lot right now,” he says, squeezing at your sides softly. You can’t help the way you shiver from his behavior, a warm feeling fluttering inside you.
“It’s okay Channie,” you say softly, mentally kicking yourself from the way your voice sounds so breathless. He eyes you closely, a small smirk forming on his lips as he steps closer. The smell of his cologne is intoxicating, with the way it wraps around you. Of course Chan takes notice immediately, leaning closer to whisper in your ear.
“I think I’m just in need of a little relaxer… think you can help me with that pretty?” he says squeezing your side a little firmer. You can only nod, hands shaking as they pull him closer to you.
He has you bent over the desk, bottoms ripped enough for him to slide his cock into you with ease. Your hands are pinned behind you, easily held in one of Chan’s hands. The other grips your waist, your plush side spilling through his fingers.
“Fuck look how well you’re taking me, pretty,” he says, now the breathless one. Each of his thrusts has the desk knocking against the wall. The edge of the desk digs into you, and you’re sure it’ll leave bruises for you to admire later. Chan fucks into you with a harsh pace, each press of his hips makes you crave him more and more. You wish you could articulate it to him in some way, but you suppose your broken moans will have to do for now.
“You’re so good letting me use you like this,” he says, leaning down to trail his lips across your cheek. You whine at the way he somehow manages to press deeper inside you.
“Gonna be good and take my cum too, right? Gonna let me fill up this pretty hole?” he teases, feeling the way you flutter around him at his words.
“Fu- fuck! Yes Channie, I’ll be good, promise!” you cry out, squirming in his hold. He grips the back of your neck, pressing you harder into his desk as his hips pick up speed.
“Beg for it pretty,” he commands, not once faltering in his face.
“Please use me! Please fill me up Channie, need it!” You beg, no longer caring about anything except having him finish inside you. Chan seems to be thinking the same thing, a loud groan filling the room as you beg. Chan lasts for a few more thrusts before his hips finally still. A loud growl escapes him as he finally cums inside you. The feeling forcing you into your own orgasm.
‘I think I’ll just have to call you every time I need to de-stress, okay pretty?” he pants out, hips still pressing into you. You can only offer a weak hum in return, but you’re more than happy to be a stress toy for him if it comes with pleasure like this.
MINHO
Eventually the arrangement turns into you being their ‘assistant’. It was a no brainer for them to have you join them when they travel for schedules, especially during tour season. Minho in particular gets pent up during their performances. If he makes a mistake, you’re always ready.
It doesn’t happen very often with the way Minho practically drills the choreography into his mind. But sometimes Minho finds himself a beat off, barely able to catch himself as he mixes up the choreo. Tonight it happens on their second song of the show, Minho’s movements beats ahead of the others. To everyone else he just looks like he’s hiding his grin, doing his best not to laugh on stage. But not to you. You wince as you watch his mistake in 4K on one of the dressing room screens. You can see the way his eyes harden ever so slightly, enough to know that he’s pissed.
After their sixth song is when they get backstage, rushing to the dressing room to get into their next outfits.
Minho is the last to walk in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you. His gaze darkens as he marches over to you. You let out a squeak as he shoves you over the arm of the chair, pulling your leggings just enough to push your panties aside. As per usual no one bats an eye as he yanks his pants down, entering you with no warning.
“Fucking hell, why are you so tight?” he groans, hips picking up immediately as he pounds into you. HIs thrusts leave you breathless, unable to give him anything past gasps of his name.
“What, were you just waiting for one of us to come back here and fuck your cute pussy, is that it?” he teases, as he starts shucking his top off. The moans you let out come out choked as you struggle to catch your breath from how hard you're being pushed into the couch. With as much strength as you can muster, you turn to look behind you. You feel a hot wave of shame roll over you when you see Minho continue to dress himself as if he isn’t making you fall apart around him.
He catches you staring out of the corner of his eye, grinning at the way you moan loader at the lack of attention. Just when you feel the pleasure build inside you, Minho’s pulling out and tucking himself back into his pants.
“Be a good kitten and stay here, If you’re good maybe I’ll let you come at the end, okay?” he says, patting your side. You offer him a small whimper in return, struggling to regain your composure.
The rest of the concert passes in the same manner. During each outfit change Minho comes straight to you, slipping inside you with ease. Each time you plead with him to let you cum, practically sobbing into the couch with how needy you are. His only response is to pull your pants back up, and pat your hip. A smirk toying at his lips when he reminds you to be good for him.
You’re shaking by the time the encore rolls around. Every second that passes feels like an eternity, when the lights on stage finally go out, you feel like you could cry from joy.
You’re not embarrassed at the way you turn over, presenting yourself to Minho when he and the other members walk through the door. It’s why he calls you kitten, you’re always acting like you’re in heat when he’s using you.
“What a needy thing I have here, think you’re ready for your reward now kitten?”
“Yes Minho! Please!!” You cry out, wiggling your hips to entice him. He’s behind you before you finish, hands ghosting over your hips slowly.
“Min…” you sob out, turning to look at him pleading
He huffs out a laugh, but still begins to unbutton his jeans. A groan escapes him when he fills you, watching your eyes flutter closed. He grips your hip in one hand, starting a brutal pace.
“Come on kitty, give me what I want. Cum or you get nothing,” he orders, hand finding its way to your clit. You sob at the tingling pleasure that takes over you, mouth opening in a silent scream when you cum.
“Good kitty,” he praises, fingers still toying with your clit. You whine, looking over your shoulder with pleading eyes. He only chuckles, of course you’d still be begging for more.
“What? Kitty still wants a treat?,” he teases, watching the way your eyes glimmer with need. You watch the way he bites his lip, hips ever so slightly rutting into you harder. You let your hand trail down to your core, pinching and pulling at your clit. You whine out Minho’s name as you clench around him, willing him to fill you. His hips stutter as your walls force him deeper inside you. A low moan leaving him as he cums without warning. He pulls out just in time to watch himself spill over your backside. You moan as another orgasm is forced out of you, making you tremble from the pleasure.
“Feel better kitten?” He asks, petting your hair. You nod muttering a small thank you as you keen into his soft touches.
CHANGBIN
When it comes to Changbin, he likes when you suck him off in the studio. With constant planning of comebacks, 3racha are always writing and pitching songs for upcoming albums. Sometimes the company gives them pushback when it comes to creative control. Like today as you stand in front of a very pissed off Changbin. Anger practically rolls off him in waves after the recent meeting with the company. This is the fifth time this month that his songs have been rejected for an album. You’d been in that meeting with the members and watched as Changbin’s face dropped, his face twisted into a deadly glare. Chan and Jisung had both given you a knowing look which had you counting the seconds until the members were dismissed. You’d followed him back to the studio after the meeting, softly trying to calm him down. He still glares, as he grumbles about how the company is annoying. You watch as he drops onto the couch, slumping back grumpily. He continues to rant, only stopping when he notices you sink to your knees in front of him.
He watches with narrowed eyes as you run your hands up the sides of his thighs. His breath hitches quietly as you part his legs.
“Come on Binnie, let me make you feel better?” you ask looking up at him through your lashes.
He bites his lip, giving you a shy nod. That’s all you need before you coax him to lift his hips, tugging his jeans down to pool at his ankles.
A shaky moan tumbles out of his lips when you mouth at his cock through his boxers. Your hands are still gliding over his thighs, leaving small pink lines where you rake your nails down his skin. While Changbin would never admit it, he loves when you have him like this. The others are more into control, but he wants you to turn him into a pliant mess.
He’s squirming as your lips travel lower, your teeth nipping at his honey skin teasingly. You leave a trail of hickies on his inner thighs, just to listen to the way he gets breathless from the feeling.
“Fuck, please don’t tease. Need to feel your lips around me pretty,” he begs, doing his best to keep still.
His hands dig into the leather of the couch as you finally take him between your lips. Moaning at the feeling of him resting heavily against your tongue. The head you give him is messy. Spit covering your lips as you bob your head, staring up at Binnie as you take him deeper with each breath. He’s a moaning mess, hands gently cradling the back of your head.
“Thank you pretty, it feels so good to have your mouth around me, thank you.” he praises desperately. The shaky tilt to his praises is almost hypnotic, making you want to stay on your knees for him for as long as he begs you to. You’d do anything he’d ask if it lets you hear him whine and beg for you as if he isn’t fully capable of pinning you down to have his way with you.
When you finally find it in yourself to pry your lips off of him, Changbin feels like he could cum just from the way your face stares back up at him. Swollen lips, glossy from his precum, and a string of spit still connecting you to his cock.
Changbin who does almost cum when you suddenly press his leaking cock between your tits. His brain goes haywire when you start to glide them over him. When his hips begin to messily thrust up, you only encourage him through soft moans.
“Doing so good for me, just want you to make yourself feel good, yeah” you ask, glancing up at him through your lashes.
“Yeah- yeah, feels good pretty. Always feels good with you…” he says breathless from the pleasure coursing through him.
You’re tongue poking out to catch a taste of him, missing the feeling of him in your mouth. He keens at the lewd image before him, you on your knees as you give him the best head he’ll ever get. Binnie who all but cries when you ask him to cum for you, voice sweet as venom.
“Come on, give it to me, Binnie. Want you to cum for me,” you ask, staring up at him with a pointed look. He comes with a whiny moan, hips stiling as he spills over your chest. He pants as he comes down from his high, now watching you with half-lidded eyes as you lick the cum off yourself. Giving him a satisfied hum, when you notice him watching you. The anger he once felt is now replaced with the need to give you even a fraction of pleasure you just gave him.
HYUNJIN
Hyunjin uses you mostly in the practice rooms. The way Chan lives in the studio, Hyunjin lives here. The first time you’re here with him, it's rushed and quiet. Constantly looking over your shoulders, too scared to lock the practice room to avoid any suspicion. This only backfires in the long ring making you crave more from Hyunjin. He feels it too. The way the adrenaline rushed through him as he fucked you with his hand over your mouth. The act does very little to muffle your cries of pleasure. By the time you were finished he had the same dazed look in his eyes. From then on it almost became a game, seeing how far he could push his limits with you. Sex with Hyunjin gets dirtier after each session, both of you egging each other on to do more and more. Less and less do you worry about someone coming in and catching you.Though neither one of you would be opposed to getting caught is what you discover soon enough.
The stress of another award show looming over the group has everyone on edge. It came to a head tonight, after hours of practice Hyune still can’t get a move quite right. After what was probably the thousandth time he’s texting you, telling you to meet him.
He has you pressed against the mirror, his touch harsh and bruising as fills you.He loves to watch where you’re joined, eyes flicking between where he’s grinding his cock into you and the way your eyes roll into the back of your head at the pleasure. Your hands barely keep you in place against the fogging mirror. With each hard thrust your hands slide further down the mirror, barely being held up by Hyunjin’s bruising grip.
The room is filled with a playlist, painstakingly curated by none other than Hyunjin. He’d briefly explained it to you in a conversation overshadowed by the countless orgasms he’d given you that night. He punctuated each beat with a timed thrust, all the while whispering the dirty lyrics into your ear just to watch your breath hitch.
The only other sound in the room is the breathless moans and lewd smacks of where his hips meet yours. But on rare meetups Hyunjin likes to pull out his phone and film you. His mouth running unfiltered as he records the both of you.
In his defense he can’t help the need to film your pussy in the mirror. Low curses falling from his lips as he watches the slick drip down your thighs. He pans to your face as you cum for the third time, zooming into the tears that leak from your eyes as you moan. The camera pans back over to his face as he gives you another hard thrust, the camera catching his own eyes fluttering at the way you tremble around him.
“Look at you, watching yourself getting fucked. Bet it feels good, doesn’t it?” He taunts, knowing how worked up it makes you.
“Yes Jinnie! It’s so good,” you gasp out, hands still scrambling at the mirror.
“I know, look at the way you’re gushing. We’re gonna have to mop the floors again…” he tsks, mockingly.
“Sorry Hyun- Hyunnie!!” you cry out, though at this point you're not entirely sure what you’re apologizing for. Hyunjin eyes your trembling form with a smirk, camera already panning back to your face for his next words.
“Maybe I can have you clean it yourself? Won’t you be a good doll and lick up your mess, hmm?” he asks, becoming breathless himself at the image.
You’re coming before he finishes, walls holding him in with a tight grip. Your tears are now running down the mirror as you slump against it. Any strength you had left is now gone as you shake through your release. The orgasm that rips through you leaves you to let out a silent scream. Hyunjin lets you ride it out, not entirely bothered by not getting his own release. Instead he focuses on filming your form slump further against the mirror. He knows you’ll get on your knees and help him out when you can think properly again. Part of him hopes you’ll consider his suggestion, letting him film it to add to his favorite collection.
#stray kids reactions#stray kids smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz smut#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz reactions#writing#✍🏼
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The Saints Can’t Help Me Now (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)
Part 3 of dom!joel series | Part 1 | Part 2 |
pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you can’t stop thinking about that suggestion that joel made after the first time you fucked, so you decide to do something about it
warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, dom/brattamer!joel, age gap (Joel is 56, reader is 25), unprotected anal/consensual painal, anal fingering, anal creampie, buttplugs, discreet toy use in public, consensual filming of sex, dirty talk, daddy!kink, praise!kink, degradation!kink, slight humiliation!kink, pain!kink, dacryphilia, brief oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, choking, spitting, spanking, hair-pulling, marking, a healthy dose of good ol’ fashioned blasphemy, alcohol consumption, pet names/degrading terms (darlin’, babygirl, pretty girl, princess, whore, slut, etc). reader is shorter than joel, has hair long enough to grab.
word count: ~9.7k | ao3
a/n: here we go again, besties. These two are occupying my brain rent free, i have so much i want to do with them. so here’s another beefy part for y’all. And if you have anything you’d like to see with them, let me know! I’d love to hear your ideas! My inbox is always open ♥️
Masterlist | Kofi
You’re feeling particularly spicy on a Thursday night after a rough day at work. Corporate drones harping about deadlines and imperfections in your work. The truth is, you know your mind is preoccupied. Joel has somehow managed to grab ahold of every single one of your thoughts and whisper sweet, filthy nothings into each one of them. Every encounter you have is better than the last. Every day you feel more compatible. Just the sound of his sticky sweet Southern drawl soothes an itch deep in your brain that you’ve been waiting years for someone to scratch just right.
When you get home, you strip down to your underwear and a tank top and let your mind drift off as you collapse into bed. A tingle sparks up between your legs as your brain fixates on one specific thing Joel had said to you when you were lying in bed after your first in-person encounter. It burrows in your psyche and you can’t let it go.
Joel has been busy at work all day, so messages between you have been sparse.
Joel [6:05 AM]: Good morning, babygirl. Think about me today
You [7:03 AM]: Sorry, my other booty call is on the brain docket for today
Joel [7:13 AM]: Watch it.
You [7:15 AM]: 😜
You both know there’s no one else for you right now. He knows he’s infiltrated your mind like a live bioweapon, tapping into your thoughts and desires at will for his own amusement.
The sole reason that gives you comfort is because you know you’re the only one for him as well, giving you leeway to tease and activate that jealous, possessive streak in him.
And as much as you hate to admit it, you kind of miss him. It’s only been a few days since the last time he elevated your soul from your body in the form of couldn’t-wait-another-minute, up-against-the-front-door sex and then eventual slow-steady-torturous sex in the comfort of his bed.
You fall victim to your current brain worm and pull out your phone.
You [7:45 PM]: Do you remember what you said to me after the first time we fucked?
Joel [8:02 PM]: I remember every thing I’ve ever said to you
Joel [8:02 PM]: Gotta or your bratty ass will find somethin to argue with me about 😉 Gotta know my shit
You [8:03 PM]: I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have never argued with you about anything
You [8:03PM]: 👀
Incoming Call: Joel Miller 🥵
When your phone screen lights up with a full-screen candid photo of Joel’s face, you know you’re in for it. Perfect. You eagerly hit “accept” and are greeted with Joel’s gorgeous, honeyed, scolding voice.
“Fuck are you doin’, lyin’ straight through those pretty lips of yours? Or, fingers, I s’pose.”
A smile is threatening to burst through said lips at this moment, but you fight against it for the sake of the bit you have going.
“I’m not sure what you mean, daddy.”
You can hear him rolling his eyes over the phone, and it thrills you to no end.
“Question for you. You ever not bein’ a fuckin’ brat?” He doesn’t sound angry, mostly just playful. You love that about him.
Shit, not love. You really, really like that about him.
“Not around you, no.” You stick your tongue out, despite him not being able to see you.
“Jesus. Lucky fuckin’ me.”
“Correct. Lucky you. As you’ve said before,” You scrunch your eyebrows and affect your best, yet still awful, impression of Joel, “‘What are the odds my wrong number was a bratty little slut like you. Just my type.’”
“I contest that.”
“Oh really? Let me look at your text to me from just a few minutes ago. Ah, yes, ‘I remember every thing I’ve ever said to you.’” You read back, imitating him once again.
“I don’t sound like that.”
“But you said it. You said both of those things.”
“Okay, what about what I said to you that first night? There a question?” Joel asks, intentionally steering the conversation as far away as possible from you mocking him. Although you know it’s not a competition, you take that as a bratty win. You grin brightly to yourself at your victory.
“Maybe I was just making conversation,” You offer, attempting nonchalance.
“Mmm. ‘Course. Couldn’t possibly be you creamin’ your little panties at the thought of me claimin’ that beautiful asshole, right?”
Your cheeks burn at the confirmation that he remembers exactly what he said to you. You swallow and nibble at your bottom lip. “Couldn’t be that. Definitely…not.”
“Hmm. Well, good thing you’re a big girl who can use your words to express what you want.”
“Yup…” You bite into your lip to stifle a laugh.
“Alright,” Joel says in a strained grunt, and you guess he’s adjusting whatever position he’s in. When you hear a tinny jingling followed by a zipper in the background, you can tell precisely what he’s doing. “Well, if you don’t got nothin’ else to talk about, I’ll just—”
“Iwantyoutofuckmyass.” You wince to yourself as it all comes out in a rapid jumble.
“Pardon?” You can tell Joel has a shit-eating grin on his face on the other end of the line. He heard you loud and clear. But he wants the win on this one.
You sigh and enunciate, “I want you to fuck my ass. Please. Daddy.”
“Good girl, using your words,” Joel teases.
“Shut up,” You mumble.
“Now, now, is that how we get what we want?”
“Yes…” You mutter childishly.
You hear him sigh back at you but with much more of an edge. “You better count your lucky stars I’m not with you right now.”
You smirk, and then you count, “One…two…three…four…”
Joel lets out a short, descending whistle. “Fuckin’ hell, little girl. My palm is twitchin’. Come on over here. I fuckin’ dare you. Smack you so hard your head’ll fuckin’ spin.”
This time you can’t contain the laugh that explodes out of you.
“Oh, you laugh all you want right now, babygirl. You ain’t gonna be laughin’ nearly as hard when my cock is rearrangin’ your fuckin’ insides through that puckered little asshole.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a ‘you’re gonna get what you deserve’ is what it is. Whether that’s a positive or a negative for you I guess we’ll find out.”
A wide smile stretches your cheeks. “It’s a yes.”
“Yeah, yeah,” He mutters dismissively. “You got a plug in that little bedside drawer of fun?”
You glance over at your side table, the contents of which you have committed to memory. “Not one as big as you.”
“Good. Still want you tight when I break you open.”
“Fuck, daddy,” You sigh out, your fingers dancing at the band of your panties. But before you can do anything at all, Joel’s voice rings harsh and definitive over the line.
“Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself. Misbehavin’ all over the fuckin’ place and you really think you deserve to come?”
You pout, dipping the tips of your fingers into your underwear rebelliously. “I think I always deserve to come. Besides, I already heard you undo your pants anyways.”
“It’s not your business right now what I’m doin’ in my own home. Now get your fingers outta your goddamn panties.”
“How do you—”
“You’re not as difficult to read as you may think, darlin’. You’re in a mood, you’re pushin’ your boundaries with me. But when I hang up this phone, I know you’re gonna do as you’re told. Know why?”
You consider being obstinate, but your curiosity wins out. “Why?”
“Because when it comes down to it, you don’t want to disappoint daddy. Do you?”
You look down at your fingers, halted just shy of where you desperately want them, and glare. Because he’s always fucking right, and it’s infuriating. Your hand retracts and instead clenches into a fist as you crash your head onto your pillow in frustration.
When you don’t speak, Joel pipes in, “That’s okay, you don’t need to answer that one, darlin’. I already know.”
You mutter under your breath, “Totally fine for you to do what you want when you’re alone, but when I wanna do something…”
“That’s exactly right, Miss Priss. Because you do as I say. And you love every second of it.”
Your responding gripe is unintelligible, and you hear him chuckle.
“Sweet dreams, babygirl.”
“Bye,” You grunt, ending the call and dropping your phone to your chest with a groan. A minute later your phone buzzes again.
Joel [8:17 PM]: I want you in your biggest plug all day tomorrow. Startin first thing in the morning. Be at my place at eight pm. Properly fed and hydrated. Cleaned to your comfort and plugged.
Joel [8:18 PM]: Don’t disappoint me, babygirl ❤️
You narrow your eyes stubbornly at the second text. You shoot him back a picture of you flipping the bird at the camera in front of the blatant wet spot on your panties.
Joel [8:23 PM]: Atta girl 😘
—
If you thought yesterday was rough, today was fucking brutal. You could not bring yourself to give a single shit about work.
You’d done as he instructed—of course you did—and even woke up early to give yourself time to prepare. First thing after relieving yourself and showering, you took your sweet time acclimating yourself to your biggest plug. The toy in question, just as you suspected, was nowhere near Joel’s true size. It was maybe a little over half his girth, which was better news for your day ahead, but would likely prove a challenge later tonight.
You’d sent off a photo to Joel of your face bearing the most overtly saccharine grin.
You [8:25 AM]: [Image Attached]
You [8:25 AM]: Thank you so much for making this the most unbearable day of my life 🙃
Joel [8:53 AM]: So glad you’re having such a good day darlin. Enjoy it cause believe it or not this will probably be the funnest part.
You [8:55 AM]: You think?
Joel [9:14 AM]: I do. Because I think you’re drastically underestimatin how much I’m about to hurt you
You [9:16 AM]: You say that like that thought didn’t just soak my panties immediately
Joel [9:22 AM]: Jesus. Masochistic little slut. Fuck you drive me crazy.
Joel [9:23 AM]: Keep the rest of your thoughts to yourself today. I’ve got a very important meeting tonight that I don’t intend on missin and I can’t afford any delays or distractions at work
You [9:26 AM]: Yes daddy 🍆🍑💦
Joel [9:28 AM]: Fuck. Goodbye.
The remainder of your workday passes teeth-grindingly slow. More than once you catch yourself intentionally rocking in your chair just to feel the plug press a little deeper and make your pussy surge. You’ve never been more appreciative of having your own cubicle in an infrequently visited portion of the office. You’d at least had the foresight to put on a panty liner prior to leaving the house, which has proven useful given the perpetual state of arousal you’ve been in all goddamn day. You go back and forth to the bathroom multiple times to wipe away the accumulation of fresh slick between your folds.
But you never touch for too long. The idea of getting off in a bathroom stall sounds increasingly tempting as the hours tick by, but you obey. You could use a loophole, say he never specified that you couldn’t get off today. But his voice echoes unflappably in your head: You don’t want to disappoint daddy, do you?
And right now you really, truly don’t. So you persist.
—
By the time 7:50 PM rolls around you’re already in his fucking driveway. Sitting at home had been driving you thoroughly batshit. Even factoring in the amount of time you spent eating dinner, showering, getting ready, and cleaning yourself out until you were positive no accidents would be had, you had still been chomping at the bit.
You sit impatiently in the driver’s seat, eyeing the front door. Do you knock early? He had said 8 PM. You don’t know how rigid he was about that time. You can’t tell if he’s even home yet since he typically parks in his garage, which is closed at this moment, and you only see a dim entryway light on inside. When you glance at the clock again, it still reads only 7:52. You throw your head back against the headrest and groan.
Joel puts you out of your misery shortly after, poking his head out the door and gesturing with it toward the inside of the house with a playfully put-out expression on his face. You stumble out of the car and nearly wipe out on the pavement in your haste to get this night the fuck going. Joel does nothing to hide his amusement, his crow’s feet crinkling drastically as he laughs at your cartoonish impatience.
Once you’re safely inside, Joel kisses you relatively chastely, to your dismay, and offers you a drink.
“Yes, please. I feel like I’m about to burst out of my fucking skin.”
Humor glistens in his eye as he pours rosé into a wine glass. “What, long day?”
“You’re not funny,” You comment frigidly as he hands you the glass.
“Y’don’t submit to me ‘cause I’m funny though, do ya,” He replies, tipping his already prepared whiskey tumbler toward you with a nod before taking a swig.
You sigh as you fall back against the counter and you take your first blissful sip of alcohol. As a refreshing warmth courses through your blood, you level him with an impassive look. “No, I submit to you because you’re a pathetic, horny old man and I have a desperation kink.”
Joel quirks an eyebrow along with the corner of his mouth, halting his glass just shy of his lips. He rakes his eyes up and down your body gratuitously and mutters before taking another sip, “Damn, you are in a mood today, aren’t ya?”
“And it’s entirely your fault. You gonna do something about it?” You challenge, swirling the blush-pink beverage around your glass.
“What if I said no?” Joel poses, leaning back against the kitchen island opposite you and fixing you with an unreadable expression. “What if I said, ‘If you’re gonna be a contemptuous little brat, you don’t get fucked. That you can turn your disobedient, plugged-up little ass around and go home.’ And that’s your punishment.”
You smirk at him. “You wouldn’t dare. Your dick is already trying to tear a hole in your jeans and every second that goes by you’re salivating over the thought of what my ass looks like with this toy in it. Punishing me like that means punishing yourself, too, and you’d never deny yourself your own sick, twisted pleasure. Would you, daddy?” You cock your head to the side daringly, wondering how far he’ll let you push him.
Turns out, the answer is not much further.
In a split second, Joel is pushing himself off the counter and yanking your head back at the scalp with a snarl. Your resolve crashes at your feet as you whimper in genuine shock at the display of domination. Your wine sloshes over the edge of the glass, splashing onto your knuckles but fortunately sparing anywhere else of mess.
Your breathing is labored at the angle he has your head at, straining your throat. Joel’s mouth dips to your neck and scrapes his teeth down the length of it, ending in a sharp bite where your neck meets your shoulder.
The action has you gasping, your free hand flying to the back of his head to keep him there. He sucks and nips at the skin until it’s guaranteed that you will be leaving his house with a physical, visible indication of his ownership of you.
“Insuff’rable little brat,” He spits out at you as he forces your gaze up toward him. “Think you’re so goddamn smart, huh? So goddamn funny.” He slams his whiskey sloppily on the counter behind you and you jump at the sound. A whiskey-soaked hand cups your neck, pressing in at the sides until you can feel your face heating with the effort it takes to breathe. The smell of the liquor on his breath and fingers assaults your nose and inexplicably sends a pang of desire down to your core.
“Hmm? You think you’re funny?” He asks pointedly, using the hand on your neck to jostle you into giving him an answer.
“No, sir!” You rasp out through your choked vocal column. “‘M sorry!”
Just as your mind starts to feel like it’s floating away and your vision begins to darken, Joel relinquishes his grip on your neck. You suck in a large breath, panting as you try to restore the oxygen to your brain.
“Next time you wanna be smart with me,” Joel growls, inches from your face, “Remember I control how easy you breathe.”
Joel snatches his tumbler from behind you and steps back to lean against the counter once more. As your blood pressure slowly decreases, you brave a glance over to him. And the motherfucker is grinning into his drink like he didn’t just put the fear of god into you at the drop of a hat. A shudder rips its way down your spine and out your fingers and toes. You set your glass down behind you, shaking slightly.
“Shit.” You roll your neck around in a circle, rubbing at the front where you’re now horribly concerned he might have left bruises.
“Wasn’t nearly hard enough to leave marks,” Joel assures as he finishes off his drink. “You want marks, I’ll give you marks, but not unless you ask. Not there. That one I know you can hide,” He nods toward the blazing mark at your neck and shoulder.
“I think I’ll pass on the strangulation marks for now,” You wince, massaging the skin. “Doesn’t accessorize well with business casual.”
Joel studies you for a moment before shaking his head with a small laugh. “The look on your face when I grabbed you by the hair just now…Be lucky if you didn’t just squeeze that plug so hard it turned to dust.”
A scowl befits your features. “You’re fucking psychotic.”
Joel tilts his head with an upturned grin, as if admitting fault. “Only cause you let me be. Why, ‘D’I scare ya?”
“You meant to scare me.”
“Just a little. Always gotta remind you who’s boss.”
You take a deep breath and pull your shit together. You down the rest of your wine in one go and close the couple of feet between you, splaying your hands out on Joel’s chest. “Can we play now?”
“Thought we already were,” Joel says with a roguish smile.
“I mean,” You take one of Joel’s hands and guide it to where you’re bare and dripping beneath your dress, “Play.”
Joel smirks at you as he dips a finger into your folds, running the flat of it up and down your clit. You tremble at the attention, your forehead falling onto his chest.
“Poor baby’s been all worked up since yesterday, hasn’t she? If you obeyed daddy, that is.”
“I did,” You sigh, clenching your fingers into his t-shirt as his hand moves southward.
Joel hums as he reaches the hilt of your plug, pressing on it rhythmically as you moan into him. “Feels like a little princess plug you got there. That right?”
You nod into his chest and your mouth drops open in a whine as Joel grips the jeweled end of the plug with his thumb and forefinger and pulls at it gently. The bulbous end presses at the rim of your asshole from the inside, testing the pressure and effort it would take to pop it out, then pushes back in. Joel fucks you shallowly just like this, mounting the pleasure already swirling in your stomach. The torture of today–and last night–is wreaking havoc on your senses, and you already feel embarrassingly close to orgasm, exposing yourself by the way you start to babble nonsensically into him.
“Mmm, I’d know those sounds anywhere. You gonna come just from this, babygirl? Just from me fuckin’ you with your princess plug?”
“I just n-need to f-fucking tap my clit, daddy, please.”
Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You come like this or not at all.”
You sob into his chest as you rock back onto his hand. “Daddy, I’ve n-never…I always h-have to…”
“Listen to me, baby,” Joel floats into your ear as he continues to fuck you with the toy, “You can do it. Filthy sluts like you can get off on much less. Been such a good girl, not touchin’ yourself 'cause I said so. Your pussy loves this. You were soakin’ my fuckin’ hand before I even did a single thing. Little cunt’s cryin’ 'cause it loves gettin’ fucked up the ass so much. Ain’t that right?”
Joel’s words have the pressure in your core threatening to break the dam. You’ve never been able to come without touching yourself, but the combination of Joel’s actions and his dirty talk have you banging at the door of release, clawing desperately at the wood, and jerking at the handle.
“Keep talking daddy, please don’t stop!” You beg, thrusting your hips back in a feverish attempt to push the plug deeper.
Joel laughs cruelly, thoroughly enjoying your dire need to reach your peak as he picks up the pace of his fingers on the taper. “Dirty fuckin’ whore, fuckin’ herself on this plug like she can’t wait to have daddy’s cock destroying her little asshole. That what you been waitin’ for, huh? For daddy to spread those plump little cheeks and ram his cock into that tight fuckin’ hole? Huh?”
“Fuck, daddy!” You scream as your orgasm takes you by the throat like Joel just had minutes before, ripping your climax from you as you gush down your legs as well as Joel’s wrist. Your asshole spasms around the plug, clenching for dear life before relaxing and clenching again. Your legs tremble and threaten to give out as he tightens an arm around your waist, holding you up as wave after wave of pleasure tears through you in what is undoubtedly the most intense orgasm you have ever had.
He fucks you through the aftershocks with smatterings of praise. “Good fuckin’ girl. That's my fuckin’ girl, comin’ all over daddy’s hand. So fuckin’ good.” Joel slides down the lower cabinets onto the floor, easing you down with him and holding you tight against him as the tremors work their way out of your body. “Such a good girl, knew you could do it for daddy.”
“Fucking hell,” You pant out, melting as Joel’s hand scratches soothingly at your back. “That was…I can’t…”
Joel chuckles into your hair. “You looked so pretty comin’ like that, babygirl.”
“I’ve never been able to do that before. Without at least touching. Fuck.”
“And what do you have to say to me for that?”
“Thank you so, so, so much, daddy,” You sigh into his neck.
“You’re welcome, babygirl,” He rumbles, kissing your head.
“You shouldn’t have rewarded me for riling you up, though. I’m about to become a fucking menace. If this is what I get for making you mad...”
Joel snorts. “Believe me, this is in preparation for the shit I’m about to put you through. Just you wait, little girl. ‘Boutta get a real rude awakening.”
“Mmm. I’m okay with that right now.”
“Okay, babygirl,” He placates. “We’ll see.”
It takes several minutes for you to fully calm down, cheek pressed against Joel’s broad chest and his hand tickling your back over your dress.
“Can’t believe I’ve already made you come once and I still haven’t seen what that toy looks like inside you.”
“My patient and long-suffering Dom,” You tease, kissing the hollow of his throat.
“Shut up,” He grumbles, but you can tell he’s smiling a little. “Up on your hands and knees, babygirl.”
You groan at the thought of having to leave your comfy Joel cocoon on the kitchen floor, but you extract yourself and get into position.
“This is a cute dress,” Joel remarks, brushing his hands over the thin fabric covering your ass.
“Cute enough you didn’t rip it off me the second I got in the door, I guess. Or maybe that makes it not cute enough,” You ponder as Joel glides his hands up the backs of your thighs, taking the dress with him as he goes until you’re exposed entirely.
“Either way, I’ll tell you somethin’, this,” Joel runs his thumb over the purple jewel on the end of the plug, “was worth the fuckin’ wait.”
“You like it?” You ask, peering at him over your shoulder coquettishly.
“I love it,” Joel confirms, parting your cheeks for a better view. “Perfect for a pretty little princess, just like you.”
You giggle, wiggling your ass a bit for him. “You think I’m a perfect little princess?”
“You’re my perfect little princess. My perfect troublemaker. My perfect pain in the ass.” He ducks his head to bite a kiss into the flesh of your asscheek.
“Happy to please,” You preen.
“Should get that as a tramp stamp,” Joel jokes, kissing your lower back right where that would be.
“No, I already decided on ‘Property of Daddy’ for my tramp stamp. Maybe I’ll get this one on the inside of my lip so you see it when you put your fingers in my mouth.”
A growl comes from Joel’s chest as he bites down on your ass again. “Shouldn’t love the idea of you permanently markin’ yourself for me so much. Maybe I’ll have to give you a little somethin’,” He wonders aloud. “Somethin’ that makes you mine.”
“I think I’d like that.”
“Good.” He gives a final squeeze to your cheek and swats at it playfully. “Alright, pretty girl. Want you to crawl to those stairs and wait for me.”
You look ahead, the base of the ascending stairs a straight shot from where you are now. “Crawl, huh?”
“That’s what I said.”
You move luxuriously, swaying your hips as you go to showcase your “jewelry”. You can’t help but smile when you hear a reverent, yet irreverent, “Goddamn,” from behind you.
At the base of the stairs, you sit up on your knees and wait for him. You take in the image of Joel, seated on the tile of his kitchen with a hand resting on one bent knee and one leg extended, devouring you with his eyes. The sheer adrenaline this man instills in your very blood continues to blow you away. Any way he looks at you, any way he talks to you has your heart racing and the desire to please him overpowering your senses.
As you stare back at him, having crawled and knelt at his instruction with not much of a second thought, you have an incredibly overwhelming feeling that you are in serious fucking trouble. That you might be falling in too deep.
When he hoists himself up off the floor and saunters over to you with his gaze locked on yours, you swallow. He takes your chin in his large hand and your brain turns to mush, eyelids fluttering closed as he holds you so fucking delicately in his grip, like a baby bird.
“My beautiful girl.”
Your heart soars and you blink open to drink in the admiration on his face as he looks at you.
The moment finally breaks when Joel makes a head motion toward the stairs, “Alright, scurry on upstairs. Time for daddy to have his fun.”
You’re only a teensy bit ashamed of how quickly you obey.
Joel lifts his shirt off as he enters the room behind you, tossing it aside and working at his belt.
“Dress off?” You ask tentatively, fingers on the hem of the garment.
The corner of Joel’s mouth tilts up as he steps out of his pants and drops his phone onto the nightstand. “Dress off.”
Once that has joined the mess of clothing on the floor, Joel is beckoning you onto the bed as he lays against the pillows, stroking himself leisurely.
“Come give daddy a little kiss.”
You situate yourself on your stomach between his legs and he guides the head down to your lips. You place a closed-mouth kiss to the slit, precome clinging to your lips before breaking off.
“Little more,” He encourages, “Get daddy nice and wet.”
Joel slides into your mouth with a groan as you take him down. Your tongue laves at the underside as you hollow your cheeks around him, coming back up to suck wetly at the head and run circles around the tip.
“That’s good, baby. That’s plenty. Just love feelin’ that sweet mouth on my cock.”
“I like tasting you, daddy.”
“Next time I’ll come down that tight throat, baby. But tonight I want to put it somewhere else. Let me see that plug again.”
You shift onto all fours, presenting your ass to him.
“Let’s see how stretched this little hole is.” Joel grips the plug and wiggles it back and forth as he pulls. You wince as your hole re-opens around the thick metal bulb, widening to accommodate it on the way out. Your hole rapidly contracts at the emptiness left, puckering again. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Joel poises the bulb at his mouth and spits, using the plug to re-lubricate your hole so he can push it back in again. “Hungry little asshole. Sucks it right back in.”
Joel watches your hole stretch around it a couple more times and then casts it aside. He experiments with just his pointer finger, slipping it past the ring until it’s fully encased inside you. He fucks you with it gently, licking his lips as you take him with no resistance.
Before he gets too entranced, he withdraws and rummages in his bedside drawer for a bottle of lube. He slicks up two fingers and drizzles the cool liquid over your hole, startling you momentarily. “You’re okay, babygirl,” he pacifies with a hand stroking your hip, “Just relax.”
“I’m relaxed,” You protest, rolling your shoulders. You look back as Joel meets you with a skeptical look. “I’m relaxed, daddy.”
“Okay,” Joel sings with a note of uncertainty. He traces circles around your rim, distributing the lube and preparing you for another finger. You're pleased when his two fingers slide in with no pain, the lube helping exponentially. “Shit, this is so fuckin’ pretty. Such a little anal slut. Beggin’ me to fuck you up the ass.”
“Yes, daddy. Want you in all my holes,” You moan as his movements increase inside you. He really does feel fucking fantastic like this. Anal has always been something you’ve had a fascination with. The taboo element of it, fucking a hole that isn’t expressly meant–or built–to be fucked has always flooded you with arousal. To you, the act of someone fucking your ass is them saying “I own you” without the actual words–although the words are also pleasing to hear in the right context.
And there isn’t a fucking doubt in your goddamn head that Joel owns you–every fucking part of you. And even though tonight’s activities were your idea, your decision, you let him take you like it was his.
As Joel adds in a third finger, the stretch becomes more real. He is as gentle as he can restrain himself to be, using his own intuition and reading your body’s signals as you open up for him. A plethora of curses careen out of you as his pace picks up, your ass accepting what he has to give you almost faster than your own brain does.
“That’s right, babygirl. Take these fuckin’ fingers. Gonna be beggin’ to have them back when I’m balls deep inside with this big cock.” Joel’s breath grows heavier, strained little grunts flowing out as his control slips and he plows you with his fingers.
“Jesus Christ!” You scream out as he pistons his fingers in your asshole, filling you up just right in a way that makes you want to scream and beg him for more. All at once his fingers disappear and grasp at your hip instead, and you groan disappointedly at the highly inhumane decision.
Joel is abruptly at your ear, his front pressed against your back. “Jesus ain’t here to help you, babygirl. He’s long gone. ‘Bout as useless to you as your pussyhole is to me right now,” he says with a slap to the front of your cunt that makes you buck forward.
“Daddy, please put your fingers back,” You whimper.
Joel laughs, tinged with coldness. “You lookin' for salvation, babygirl? Absolution?” Joel removes his hand from your pussy and locks it around your jaw, forcing it up into the air. “You get that through me now. Want you worshipping this cock every day, twice on Sundays.”
“Yes, daddy,” You whine, attempting to rock yourself back against hard Joel’s cock bobbing at your lower back.
Joel scrapes his upper teeth down your cheek, then nips aggressively on your jawline. You expect him to move on from your little speech mishap, but it seems to have set Joel off.
“‘F you’re gonna thank that fucker for anything, it better be for makin’ you so goddamn holy. Blessin’ me with so many goddamn options to violate this little body of yours. This smart little mouth,” He shifts two fingers from your jaw into your mouth and hooks them, leaving your mouth gaping, “this juicy little cunt,” his other hand palms your pussy, “And daddy’s new favorite. This tight, sinful little asshole.” Joel meets your hips and rolls his stiff cock against your ass. The hole in question clenches at his words, begging to wrap back around something, anything.
“A little angel sent from heaven just for me to defile,” Joel growls, licking a broad stripe up your cheek and sending a shiver down your spine, “Isn’t that right?”
You nod as well as you can with Joel’s fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue.
“You think Jesus would be proud of you, babygirl?” Joel’s tone is vaguely haunting as his hot breath skitters across the side of your face. “On your hands and knees, gettin' your asshole reamed by a man over twice your age?”
You growl in frustration, thrusting your hips back against Joel and jerking Joel’s fingers from your mouth with a sharp twist of your head. “I don’t fucking care what Jesus thinks of me!”
There’s fire in Joel’s eyes as he releases his hold on you. Moments later that fire is manifested in a loud smack on your asscheek. You moan leaning back into it.
“Fuckin’ right you don’t. Who do you worry about pleasin’ now?” Joel grunts out, landing another hard spank to your ass.
You squeal at the impact and muster out a quiet, “You.”
Smack.
“Who?”
Smack.
“You, daddy!”
Smack.
“Who do you worship now, huh? Who do you fall on these fuckin’ knees for now?” Joel growls through gritted teeth.
Smack.
“You, daddy!” You scream.
Smack smack smack.
“Don’t you fucking forget that,” He spits out with a final slap to your angry, smarting skin. “Next time you mention another man’s name while I’m inside you, deity or not, you won’t be able to sit for a month. Understood?”
You nod with a distorted whimper from your ravaged vocal cords. “Yes, sir.”
Then Joel is in front of you, hand squeezing your jaw. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.”
You drop it wide with your tongue out, just how you know he likes. You start to salivate as you anticipate his own shooting into your waiting mouth, something absolutely filthy that you have truly grown to love in the few times he’s done it. You see him glance down at your tongue, then back up to your eyes. And then he does spit. But he aims it at the bridge of your nose instead, splattering all over your face. You reel back, startled, blinking hard to keep it out of your eyes. When you look back up at Joel he has one eyebrow raised in a challenge, like he’s begging you to talk back.
“What do you say?” He growls.
You bite your lip with a smirk. “Thank you, daddy.”
His spit travels down the side of your nose and down to your lips as you stare him down.
“Leave it,” He orders as more saliva gathers on your lips and overflows toward your chin. With an obstinate tongue, you lock eyes with him and lick him off gratuitously.
Joel glares at you for a second before he puffs a laugh out of his nose and shakes his head. “You’re gettin’ far too smug for my likin’, you little brat. Like I showed you in the kitchen, I don’t like bein’ too predictable. Makes you act too big for your britches.” He takes his thumb and swipes the remainder of his spit up to your forehead, massaging it into your skin.
You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “I disagree. I think you like me smug. Gives you something to do. If you were just laying there barking orders at me and I never gave you attitude, you’d get bored.”
Joel cracks a smile and smooths a hand over your hair. “I do like ‘em naughty, don’t I?”
“Preaching to the choir a bit on that one, aren’t we, Jesus?” You tease indulgently.
An incredulous look crosses his features as he shakes his head again at you in astonishment. “Fuckin’ hell, you little shit. Insubordinate till the day you fuckin’ die, I swear.”
You smile broadly back at him. “And very proud of it.”
Joel rolls his eyes and strikes a motivating hand on your ass. “Go on, stick that insubordinate little ass in the air for me so I can fuck the smart right outta your mouth.”
You giggle, but you oblige, turning around so your ass is high and proud in front of him and your face snuggled submissively in his bedding.
“Goddamn. Always such a fuckin’ sight like this. Perfect little cockslut just for me.”
“Just for you, daddy.”
“I think this greedy little hole is ready for me, hmm?”
“So, so ready, daddy.”
“Good girl.” Joel finds the discarded lube in the sheets and reapplies it liberally to his cock and your asshole. “Gonna be a nice, big stretch to fit me, huh? But you like it when daddy hurts ya, don’t you baby?”
“Yes, daddy,” you whine as Joel tests the limits of your hole with the head of his cock. Not breaching the ring, but pressing into it tentatively.
“Fuckin’ shit. That’s a tight little hole, babygirl. Just how daddy likes it.” He cautiously rolls his hips into you, and you feel your ass opening up to him in small increments. The sting is fierce despite Joel prepping you well. He just happens to be fucking huge.
When Joel finally gives a final push to pop the head inside, you intake a sharp breath through gritted teeth and clutch at the sheets for dear life. “Fuck, daddy. T-that’s so fu-fucking big. H-hurts.”
“Fuckin’ Christ, look at you,” Joel groans, rubbing the ring of your asshole as it stretches around him. You don’t even have the gumption to tease him about his use of blasphemous language. You just whine.
He steadies himself on your hip as you feel him shift behind you, careful not to slide deeper while you adjust. Soon after you hear a small shutter sound and you crane your neck to see his phone aimed directly at where the two of you meet.
He tosses the phone onto the bed by your face. “Look at that, babygirl. How fuckin’ good you look wrapped around me.”
This is the first time either of you have ever visually documented any of your experiences together, but it was on both of your respective “yes/no/maybe” lists as a “yes”, and it exhilarates you to bring another kink you both have into reality, even in the most incremental way.
You lift onto your elbows and take the phone, marveling at the picture. Your hole is red and swollen, but not too drastically. It looks obscene, Joel’s cock so large in comparison. The image has your pussy leaking a fresh wave of liquid, wetting the creases of your thighs. “That’s so fucking hot, daddy.”
Joel massages your asscheeks, taking in the real thing in front of him. “Alright, baby. Deep breath. Let me in.”
You drop the phone in front of you and lay your head on the sheets again. You inhale through your nose, and on the exhale Joel pulls your hips into him as he presses forward. You yelp at the surge of pain, but Joel doesn’t move anymore after that, letting you adjust again.
“How much more?” You whimper. He motions for you to hand him the phone. He snaps another photo and a quiet sob escapes when you see he’s only halfway inside. “Fuck. What did you say before? Acting too big for my britches? Kinda feeling like that right now.”
Joel chuckles, running a hand up and down the slope of your back. When he speaks his voice is thick with sass. “Thought you liked it when it hurt.”
“Fuck, I do. But this is…wow. Never had something this big up there before.”
“I know, baby. But we’re gonna do it, and you’re gonna take it.”
A defeated sound is muffled by the sheets.
“What’s your safeword, babygirl?”
“Honeysuckle,” You recite easily.
“Good girl. Now look at that picture and focus on how beautiful your tiny hole looks gripping my cock.”
You sink your teeth into your lip and nod.
You feel more lube coating yourself and Joel as you stare mesmerized at the photo. As he pushes himself the rest of the way inside, you cling to the phone despite your eyes going a little glassy and the image going blurry. But you do it, and you take it, just like Joel said.
Joel showers you with praise as his hips press firmly against your ass. You already feel exhausted, but your pussy is very awake. The briefest shift of Joel inside you has your neglected hole throbbing, completely betraying what being violated like this is doing for you.
“You okay, babygirl?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just really intense,” You squeak out breathily.
“Bet you’re wishin’ I wasn’t so big now, huh? All fun and games when it’s your pussy gettin’ beat up. She’s made to take a big daddy like me. But this? Nah, you gotta be a real pathetic little cocksleeve to beg daddy to put it up your ass, knowin’ full well how fat his cock is. How long he is. Such a fuckin’ slut.” He spanks your ass again and a soft moan comes out of you.
When you don’t respond verbally he laughs. “Don’t got anythin’ to say to that, Miss Smart Mouth? Not like you got daddy’s cock in there to shut you up right now. Go on, talk back.”
“No, sir,” You say quietly.
“See, now she’s all proper and respectful. Just as I thought. Stuff her full’a cock anywhere and she don’t got much to say. Textbook fuckin’ cockslut. Isn’t that right? Got you right in the dictionary with that picture there of your greedy ass in the sky squeezin’ this dick.”
The shameful words wash over you like a hot bath soaking your sore muscles. You love the way he talks to you like this. The shame ignites a fire in you, an unmatched arousal that drives your need to please him entirely. But also with the need to see what he’s doing to you.
“Film it.”
Joel is silent for a second.
“Please,” You add for good measure.
“You want me to film it, babygirl? You want proof of just how good you take me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shit. Alright, then. Give the phone to daddy.”
You hear the blip of a recording starting and Joel pulls out just barely with one hand spreading a cheek open. You suck in through clenched teeth and a piece of you is severely regretting your decision-making skills. You have no idea what you were thinking, letting Joel bait you into this with his post-coitus charm that first night. Despite it being far from your first time being fucked up the ass, you were being completely genuine when you said he was the biggest thing you’ve ever had up there. But horny, pre-sex you can be pretty ambitious. You can talk a big game and you do pride yourself on being a willing fucktoy for Joel.
But shit, this fucking hurts.
“Make all the sounds you want, babygirl. Love hearin’ exactly what I do to you.”
“Hurts, daddy,” You whine.
“Bet it does, baby. Havin’ daddy break you open like this. You knew what you were gettin’ into, didn’t you?”
You don’t dignify his justifications with an answer, you just moan into the bed as he drags himself out a little further.
“I think it’s a fittin’ punishment for you misbehavin’ all the fuckin’ time. Taste of your own medicine.”
You grumble, distracting yourself by fiddling with the sheets.
“That really how you wanna remember this? Bein’ all grumbly while I’m puttin’ you in your place?”
“You’re grumbly all the time,” You mutter stubbornly.
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up at you. “I’m sorry? Would you like to repeat that again? Right into the camera. See where it gets you.”
You glance up to see Joel directing the phone at your face and chicken out. “No…”
Joel slaps your ass again, hard, and you cry out. “You wanna rethink how you respond to me?”
“I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll be good.”
“That’s more like it. Cut the fuckin’ sass and let daddy take what’s his. I don’t give a fuck if it hurts. You know how to stop it if it’s too much.”
You take a deep breath and nod.
“Don’t you worry, baby. Once I fill you up a few times you won’t even remember your fuckin’ name. Just ‘daddy, daddy, daddy’ like the cockdumb little slut you are.”
And then he slams back into you.
And fuck him, he’s right, your mind goes completely blank.
Joel’s pace is grueling as he pounds into you. You can tell he’s putting on a show for the camera, ensuring that it captures him sliding in inch by inch. His grunts are timed with the impact of his hips. His skin is sticky with lube each time he retracts from you, amplifying the union of your bodies with a solid thudding sound on each thrust. The pain isn’t nearly as razor-sharp as only a few thrusts ago, but it’s enough to still have you wincing. It for sure does not hurt enough for you to safeword. In fact, it has dwindled down to the level of torture you crave. Enough pain to remind you who you belong to, and enough pleasure to remind you exactly why.
A constant stream of noise—some pleasure, some pain—drifts around the room courtesy of yourself. Joel has been relatively nonverbal since he began really fucking you, mixing his own noises—only pleasurable ones for him, the cruel motherfucker—in with yours.
Joel’s thrusts don’t stop as you hear him say, “Smile for the camera, babygirl.”
You think you might want to kill him. You are so far from wanting to smile, not even sure you could manage it if you tried. The best you could probably do is a wincing grimace, which is exactly what he ends up capturing anyway since that is the perpetual state of your face at the moment.
“Aww, ‘smatter, baby?” Joel jerks forward in a particularly brutal thrust, and you call out desperately for him. “Still sting a little bit?” He asks, voice dripping with feigned sympathy.
You grunt through your teeth,”F-f-fuck you.”
Joel tosses his head back with a pitiless laugh. “Gettin’ a little feisty, are we, babygirl? Forgettin’ our good girl manners?”
“How about—hnnng—next time—fuck—you try it, sir?”
His laughter booms out again. “Oh, baby, I’m not the one who’s a constant glutton for punishment, am I? You need this,” Joel rams into you for emphasis, making you cry out again, “Need me putting you in your place like this. ‘S’why you were fuckin’ born. To be a fuckin’ brat and have me fix you right.”
Your throat feels raw from your screaming and babbling, your fingers sore from clutching the sheets, and the devil’s combination of pain and pleasure has tears losing grip of their slippery hold and cascading down your burning cheeks.
“Fuck, that’s what I like, baby. Cry for me, cry with this cock tearing you apart. Just for daddy.” He spurs them on with another assault of his hand on your ass in rapid succession. It does the job, the seemingly bone-deep ache from him smacking you over and over on already debauched flesh forcing more tears from you. You can only imagine how fucking explicit this looks on camera.
As the pain flourishes, your vision starts to narrow and a calming trickle of adrenaline starts to take hold of you. And suddenly you feel like you’re fucking floating. Almost like the weight of the pain is lifting and only leaving room for pleasure. Thoughts begin to ebb away into a desperate chant inside your head. You need this. You need this. You need this. You need him to give you this.
Joel must instantly recognize the shift because his thrusts immediately increase in speed and strength. “There we go. Fuck, baby, just like that, yes. Let go. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Keep takin’ it, just like that.”
Your moans become wanton and charged with desire, wanting him harder, wanting him deeper. You crave him, mind jumbled with thoughts of how you could possibly inject him into your very bones. You and Joel, Joel and you, fucking like this forever. Moan after moan, orgasm after orgasm. Until nothing exists in the entire universe but this. But you two.
And Joel can read it without you saying a fucking word.
The bed sinks beneath you and then Joel is so deep inside you, you think you might pass out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out the most primal, guttural moan you’ve ever made in your fucking life. Peeking back you see the phone discarded on the bed and Joel propped up on flattened feet, driving his cock down into you as his hands press hard between your shoulder blades and imprint you further into the mattress. As your periphery starts to shrink, honing in on your joined movements, Joel’s hips begin to stutter and his grunts grow louder.
“Fuck, shit. Gonna fill this asshole up, babygirl. Oh shit.” Joel fills you deeply and wholly, and you feel him explode inside of you. He presses forward into you until your knees give out beneath you and leave you prone with Joel, tacky with lube and sweat, clinging to every inch of your skin. Your breath comes in stilted as the world begins to fade back in.
“Fuck,” Joel gasps reedily into your neck, weakly attempting to raise himself onto his forearms to free you of his dead weight. He rolls his hips into you boldly, pushing his come deeper inside of you. “All filled up. Want you like this all the fuckin’ time. Overflowin’ with me.”
You whimper as you thrust your own hips into the bed.
“You still need to come, babygirl?”
You nod desperately. “But stay inside. Please.”
Joel exhales heavily. “Alright, I’m gonna flip you over, but I need to pull out for a second. Okay?” You nod again in agreement.
Joel makes quick work of slipping out of you and turning you onto your back. You grab the backs of your thighs and spread open for him.
“That’s my girl,” he coos, his honey drawl both soothing your hot skin and teasing your pussy. “Gimme the phone again.”
Your hands scramble to find his phone, eventually landing on it and handing it over. Now that you have a proper view of him, you can see how hungry he looks as he stares down at the screen. How his eyes dart from the artificial rendering to your actual flesh, like he doesn’t know where he wants to look more.
His cock is only half-hard as he lines up with your fucked out hole, but the memory of his stretch has him sinking back in relatively easily.
“So fucking beautiful, baby,” He whispers, dipping two fingers into the opening of your severely neglected pussy. “Wanna fill up every one of these holes at once someday. See you all plugged up, tied to my bed, completely at my mercy.”
You moan at the words, silently cursing him for putting more fucked up ideas in your head that would result in you being just as destroyed for him as you are now. Your fingers begin to seek him out frantically.
“Uh-uh. Hands above your head, baby,” He directs. He waits until you comply before plunging his two fingers inside of your pussy.
“Oh fuck, daddy,” You gasp, hips already rolling back down onto his fingers and cock. “So full.”
“I know, baby. Let me feel you squeeze my fingers.” You obediently clench your pussy muscles, which automatically has you clenching around his cock as well. Joel growls at that, and you’re pretty sure you can feel him stiffening again inside you.
“Please make me come, daddy.”
Joel’s fingers thrust into you with haste as he adds a third finger with minimal pain, evidence of your pussy having become accustomed to Joel’s size from your increasingly frequent encounters. He curls them just right as he starts to slowly move his hips into you again.
“Oh god,” You pant out breathily, “Touch my clit please, I’m so fucking close. I don’t think I can again…not like before. Please.”
“Touch yourself, baby. I’ve only got one hand and I wanna see you fall apart. Want the camera to see it. You got my permission to touch.” Your hand launches between your legs and rubs hurriedly at your clit as Joel continues working both your holes. “Good fuckin’ girl, touch that pussy, baby. Make yourself come with me all shoved up inside you.”
You knew you wouldn’t take much, and his words jettison you off the edge with startling force, your hips bucking wildly underneath your fingers. You vaguely hear the bloop of a recording ending as you catch your breath. Joel leans into you, mouthing at your sweat-slick neck.
“Got me all fuckin’ hard again.”
“‘M Sorry,” You mutter hazily, lacing your fingers through his damp curls.
You’re surprised to feel Joel pulling out of you gingerly given his current state.
“I’ll give you a break,” Joel consoles, kissing sweetly along your jaw. “Be back in a minute.”
You furrow your brows and hook a leg over one of Joel’s to lock him in place. “Mm-mm. Stay.”
Joel laughs softly into your skin. “Baby, I gotta take care of this or I’ll probably get grumpy.”
“I like you grumpy,” You reassure, scratching at his scalp with your nails and hearing him sigh at the sensation.
“Sure had a lot to say about it a few minutes ago.”
“Unlike you, daddy, I don’t remember half the shit I say to you. I just say bullshit to wind you up.”
“Cheeky little devil,” he chuckles into your neck.
Joel just holds you for a moment, face buried in the crook of your neck and fingers running up and down your thigh as you scratch at his head soothingly.
“Saw you enter subspace for a minute there, didn’t I?” Joel asks gently, recalling your moment of focused euphoria from earlier.
You’re not sure why that makes you blush, but it does. “I think so, yeah.”
“Feel good?”
“Amazing.”
“Well, I got a goal for the future then.” He kisses your cheek tenderly. Joel shifts onto his side to wrap his arms around you fully, and you feel his still-erect cock brush against your hip.
“How about…” You guide Joel until he’s hovering above you with a quizzical look, “How about I let you fuck my pussy.”
An amused expression crosses Joel's face. “‘Let me’? You’re gonna let me fuck what’s mine?” He teases.
You roll your eyes dramatically and poke him in the side. “I was trying to be nice.”
With a smirk, Joel hauls you down the bed as you giggle and wrap your legs around his waist. He plants his hands on either side of your head, towering over you. “You’re right. I don’t like when you’re nice. I much prefer you naughty.”
You smile matter-of-factly and push off on his shoulder. “Go clean your dick, then come back and fuck me senseless again. I don’t need an infection.”
“Fair point,” He acknowledges with a tilt of his head and foists himself off the bed.
As Joel stumbles into his ensuite, he calls over his shoulder, “Put your plug back in. Wanna fuck you while my come is still stuffed up your cute little ass. See me drippin’ outta both your holes at the same time.”
The brazenness of his words has your cheeks growing hot. After making quick work of his order, an easy feat given how much wider your hole is now, you grab his discarded phone. You pull open the first video from tonight and settle into the pillows. Your fingers wend their way down to your still-glistening cunt as you watch, captivated by your own personal porn.
You take in the way he fucks you, the way he talks to you, the way he pushes you to your limits. Mulling over how he had you coming without touching your clit and entering subspace for the first time ever, and you can’t help but think…
You are thoroughly, catastrophically fucked.
Next Part
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].
SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.
PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader.
GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo.
WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts.
WORD COUNT. 4.5k.
NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.
YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table.
“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”
Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”
“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”
Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”
“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.
“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”
You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”
Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.
“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”
They hate to admit it, but it’s true.
Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.
They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.
But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.
Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.
“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”
“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.
Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.
APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.
Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”
“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.
“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.
“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”
Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”
“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”
They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.
Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.
A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?
“They’re making way for an ambulance.”
It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true.
“Damn, when are we getting home?”
Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—
“Man, this sucks.”
He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.
Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.
“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”
There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.
Looks like the chances are high after all.
“Beomgyu?!”
The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.
And you do.
Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.
“What the hell?!”
“It’s you.”
Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit.
“It’s really you.”
That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—”
Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.
He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.
“Are you a stalker?”
“I love you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”
“What the fuck? What are you—”
Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.”
“What?!”
“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”
You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—
Why are you looking at him like that?
“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”
Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger?
“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”
“There you are!”
Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”
No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”
Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.
He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.
That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.
SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.
But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.
“Hey, hold the door open for me.”
“Don’t you have hands?”
“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”
Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no.
“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”
“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”
Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education.
“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”
He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.
“Should’ve done that before junior year.”
“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”
That voice—
“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”
“That’s fucking balls.”
“You’re so eloquent.”
“Suck my fucking dick.”
Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.
“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”
Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.
Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.
“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”
Where? Where are you?
“Dude, really? No way.”
“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”
Where the hell are you?
“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”
There you are.
There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.
“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”
You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.
But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.
“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”
“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”
Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.
Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”
Just not in the way he was hoping for.
“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”
You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.
The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.
He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.
This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.
“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?
“S—sure. Anytime.”
“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”
Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.
“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.
“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.
“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”
“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.
And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.
Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.
“A—ah, hello!”
Well. There is one thing.
“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”
“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?”
The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.
“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”
“Next!”
It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already.
He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.
“Next.”
His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders.
“Oh.”
Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.
“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”
He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.
The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—
“U—uh.”
—he’d be able to touch your face.
“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”
And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.
It’s real. You’re real.
You’re right in front of him right now.
“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”
The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.
“Yeonjun.”
He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.
There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.
“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.
Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.
“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”
“Next! Next person!”
Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.
His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.
“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”
He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.
There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”
You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead.
You’re both still alive at this point in time.
And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.
“Next!”
STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE.
© hannie-dul-set, 2024.
#txt x reader#choi beomgyu x reader#choi soobin x reader#choi yeonjun x reader#tomorrow x together x reader#txt x you#yeonjun x reader#soobin x reader#beomgyu x reader#choi soobin x you#choi beomgyu x you#choi yeonjun x you#txt fluff#txt fanfic#txt imagines#txt scenarios
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Begging
A top male reader X Billy Lenz
Short
You’ve been working on putting together the final presentation to present to your sister companies boss. Both your company and its sister company had been working on putting together a new idea to bring both of the companies together, you so happened to be the team leader for the project and had been going through the presentation and preparations for days.
It wasn’t ideal but you had to make sure everything was perfect for tomorrow so everything you hadn’t finished had to be all crammed into tonight. “Oh my god..” you sighed out looking at the rest of the things you had to accomplish before you were done for the night. Several hours had passed and you were finally almost done, you looked outside to see it was dark already before checking your watch. “Huh, it’s pretty late, and it’s awfully quiet as well..”
You see you lived with your partner Billy, you had bought an old sorority house so that you had a place to stay and work in while having room for friends and family if they wanted to stay over. When you bought the place you had no idea that it came with a very horny and needy man as well, but that happened a year ago and you had grown used to the man, even dating him for several months now. You were very aware how mad he’s been getting with the lack of attention and affection as of late, but there wasn’t much you could do about it.
You only had the last few slides along with some invoices before you were done so you decided to go get some water and a snack from the kitchen. As you walked down the hallway you listened for Billy to hear where he was but you couldn’t hear him in the house at all. You dismissed it thinking that maybe he went to sleep in the attic since you were busy and it was getting really late. As you returned from the kitchen back into the office more energized and ready to finish your work you saw Billy laying over the desk, panting. “What are you doing in here Billy? I thought you would’ve gone to sleep.” You said walking towards the front of the desk so that you could see his face.
“B-billy couldn’t wait for you any longer! P-pretty piggy won’t love Billy right now and it isn’t fair!” Billy yelled out in frustration clutching onto the front of the desk almost trying to reach out to you as his face became red and he started visibly sweating and shaking. “Billy we talked about this, while I’m working I can’t spend much time with you but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” You said walking closer to him as he started gripping at your shirt looking up at you. “Please piggy! P-please! Just throw billy around for a little bit! That’s all he needs!” Billy was yelling up at you, you took his hands off your shirt and walked around to stand behind him.“Y-you’ll fuck pretty Billy dumb won’t you?” He said with a look of desperation as he wiggled his hips trying to entice you to ravage him on the desk you had been currently working on.
This has been going on for days, almost a week. You had to get your work done before the deadline which was tomorrow, you couldn’t afford to be late with this project, you had worked to hard to just mess it up now, at least that’s what you told and reminded yourself. “I can’t believe your still doing this Billy, I’ve told you time and time again, I cannot afford to miss this deadline, if you were patient enough I would’ve given you a reward this weekend. But obviously someone is to needy to even try.” You said getting more and more aggravated with his partners behavior. “Billy can’t help it!” He whined face clear with embarrassment but with a look of lust and desperation in his eyes. “You make Billy feel so good! And Billy’s been waiting forever! Billy will be good! But pretty Billy just wants to be destroyed by little piggy!” He said still bent over the desk slightly lifting up his shirt so that you could see his torso and chest. “Just touch Billy, please!”
Your heart rate picked up and you could feel your member start to harden in your slacks, he had been wearing a lingerie laced bra, it was green and made his eyes pop. “Billy.. what are you wearing?” You said to him slowly moving to turn him over so that he was on his back and you could see his chest in the bra as it hugged his chest beautifully. “I-I thought piggy might’ve liked me if I wore it.” He said all flushed avoiding eye contact. Acting shy.
Of course that didn’t last long, it never did. He brought his hands to take his shirt completely off and take your hands into his so that you would fondle his chest. “Billy, you know exactly what you’re doing to me don’t you?” You said fully hard grinding on him as he wrapped his legs around your waist bringing you closer and whispering in your ear “Billy can take you just fuck me.” He leaned back gradually getting louder as he moved his hips to meet yours “F-fuck me hard and rough with your fat cock! Fuck Billy with your fat juicy cock! Please!” He got harsher and needier in trying to meet your thrust into his hips. “I’m not happy about not finishing my work but I’ll make sure your satisfied.” You said before taking off all your clothes and the remainder of his but leaving his bra on. You were getting on your knees when he stopped you. “You don’t have to prepare Billy! Billy already did it when you were busy! Just stick your juicy cock in me!” He said bending over and opening his legs before spreading his ass with his hands so that you could see his hole that had an all to familiar plug in it. “So you did.. we’ll then I won’t go easy on you.” You took out the plug before letting it fall on the floor. You entered him deep and harshly making sure you hit him in all the right places in a continuous rhythm not letting him take a second to get used to it, obviously he didn’t mind it as he was screaming and moaning begging for more, drooling all over the desk.
You pulled his hands behind his back to continue thrusting in him moving around until you could find the place that made him lose his mind. “O-oh god! Please!! More! Please fuck me harder!!” He screamed louder and louder, it made you glad that the house was fairly far from the other houses. You pulled his hands to your waist before hugging his chest and fucking him while both of you were standing. “O-oh god yes!! Billy is so full! So full of piggy!! Please!! Yes! Agh!” His face was gorgeous, he had tears and drool running down his face cum staining his stomach as he had already cum twice and yet still not satisfied. His eyes barely open as if he was fighting to keep them open. “Billy I'm getting close.” You panted in his ear as your thrusts got sloppier. “Please!! Fill me with your dirty seed! Please Billy wants it!! Please please please please!!” He was begging to be filled to the brim and who were you to deny him? This continued until he was satisfied and passed out.
Now he was laid down in your shared bedroom after he was done and cleaned him up. “Oh Billy what am I gonna do with you?” You sighed out walking back into the office to deal with the damage hoping that the desk and laptop were still okay letting out a loud sigh.
Hope you guys like this! My first time posting an actual short on here. 🫶
#top male reader#dom male reader#x male reader#seme male reader#billy lenz x male reader#bomertheshark#top male reader X Billy lenz#bottom character
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hey 🫶🏻 if you could would you be willing to write a piece where carmys girl has been wildly stressed with work or whatever and can’t sleep at night and he calms her down and they talk abt it. then they make some food together or somethin 💗
You waited until Carmen was asleep, the soft snores growing louder and louder, body fully relaxed against the mattress before you slipped out, snagging your laptop off the chair and tip toeing to the living room.
You'd been working on the marketing pitch for days now, the deadline dwindling closer and closer. Normally, you would leave work at work, but this one was huge. Every resting moment, you found your mind racing back to something else you might have missed. Carmen had told you it was perfect, insisted on it, trying to pull you back to him. You knew he was just worried about you, didn't want you spiraling and spinning out like he did, but you couldn't help the racing of your heart.
The blue light glow made you flinch, jabbing the button to lower the brightness. You turned your head down the hall, listening for any sign that Carmen was awake, only to be greeted with a hearty snore instead.
Good, I'll just go over it one more time. Make sure the visuals are right for the vision board. Fuck, I think they might be too crowded.
Your mind raced, hunched over at the countertop, fingertips flying over keys, dragging over the touch pad, chewing anxiously on your lip before reverting it all and trying again. It was only supposed to be a quick look, a final go through so you could go back to sleep.
Carmen's voice, softly calling your name had you jumping, head snapping towards the shuffling, sleepy figure creeping towards you. "Baby, it's three am." Carmen's voice rasped, heel of his hand rubbing his eye. "What're you doin'?"
"I just... I have to finish this really quick, and then I'll come to bed." You whispered softly, hoping your gentle tone would lull him back to bed.
"C'mon, don't do this t'me." Carmen begged, tired blue eyes that had your heart flitting even in the moonlight. "Come to bed."
"Carmy, I'll be right there. I just have to finish this last-"
"-Come to bed." Carmen's voice was firmer now, one hand extended out to you. "You're off the clock. What did I tell ya? It's not business hours, you don't worry about it."
You rolled your eyes, looking back at your screen. "Yeah, you're one to talk." You muttered. "I just have to finish this, Carm, ok? If I don't good on this, I'll get fired."
"You're not gonna get fired." Carmen said softly, scooting steps closer to you. He was warm, pressed against your back, still soft from sleep. You leaned back into the touch, eye lids pulling gently.
"This presentation is perfect, and you know it. I know it. We all know it." Carmen muttered. "You're gonna do great tomorrow, but not if you don't sleep, ok?"
You knew he was right- fuck, of course he was right. If you weren't so sleepy, you would be mad, but the idea of his arms and your warm bed were too alluring at this moment. You saved your changes, letting Carmen pull you back to bed, laptop on the charger and your face buried in the soft cotton of his chest.
"You're gonna do great, you know that right?" Carmen muttered.
"Yeah," You scoffed. "What if I don't? Then I'll be unemployed-"
"-You won't." Carmen's hand rubbed down your spine. "But if it does, we'll figure it out."
"But-"
"We'll figure it out." Carmen said, chin tucking so he could look at you. "But you'll do great. You're great at everything you do. Fuckin' amazes me, ya know? You just don't even try and you're just great."
"No, I'm not." You blushed, melting into his chest at the words.
"You are." Carmen nodded. "You've got that-that thing, ya know? You just impress everyone so easily. You could sell anything without tryin'. It blows me away."
"Thank you." You muttered softly, pressing yourself into his chest, the burn in your chest growing, emotional at his sweet words. "I love you. Thank you f'saying that."
"Not just sayin' it. It's true and you know it." Carmen grins, lips brushing the top of your head. "I love you, baby. Gonna keep my arms around you this time so you don't escape again." He tightened his grip around you playfully, your soft giggles making his chest bloom with comforting warmth.
#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#thebearerblurbs#thebearer#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto smut#carmy smut#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fic#the bear season 2#the bear hulu#the bear#carmy x you
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Whole Lotta Love
Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, minors DNI!
Summary: Coming home for spring break means getting to spend an entire week with Eddie. And he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. | Ft. “Fuck, I’ve missed touching you,” + “I’ll do anything you want. All you have to do is ask,” requested by @/rebeccaperegrine-blog1
Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (college aged reader)
Warnings: A little insecurity, a mention of Hawkins giving weird vibes, some anxiety, a little loneliness, protected p in v, very light sub!Eddie, rusty smut (I’m sorry it’s been a while, I’m out of practice)
Word Count: 5.4k (I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened)
Stranger Things (Eddie and Steve) Taglist | If you want to request an Eddie fic, click here.
After months of endless noise - the constant tap of heels against tile, the echoing laughter of the seventeen other girls that shared your dorm floor, the persistent hum of a thousand separate conversations melding into one, the occasional beat of this new record or that one - the silence of home felt overwhelming.
The absence of life, made that much more evident by the disappearing act your parents pulled, had you simultaneously relieved - able to think for the first time in weeks - and on edge as you wandered around the empty home in search of something to satiate your boredom.
Planning for the trip home meant cramming as much studying, writing, and working into the days leading up to your departure as humanly possible. The goal was to leave behind every possible worry - every homework assignment, every exam, every essay, every work assignment - and focus solely on enjoying your first spring break as a college student. There was plenty to do at home, anyway, especially when you planned to spend as much time as humanly possible with Eddie.
That plan - leaving most of your books behind, tossed onto the desk hidden in the corner of your dorm room, and becoming so busy with Eddie that you barely noticed the passage of time - would’ve worked flawlessly, had you not returned home two days earlier than expected.
There were moments that you, selfishly, forgot that the lives of your loved ones moved on without you, that their days continued to pass without your presence, and as glad as you were that their world continued to spin - Hawkins continued to exist, in all of its faded glory - you felt a bit of the loneliness your mother joked about as you climbed the stairs to your bedroom.
It was easy to pretend that you didn’t miss home - didn’t miss your parents, your friends, Eddie - when you spoke to them several times a week. It was easy to pretend when you were surrounded by people and buried beneath the weight of this assignment or that one, this deadline for the school paper or that snippy comment leveled at you by your editor. But when left to your own devices, it was easy to remember just how much you’d missed in the few months since you’d last made the trip home.
Instead of wallowing in their empty nest, your parents were sitting at the home of a friend - another empty-nester, whose daughter lived in the same building as you - enjoying dinner and games. There would be time later to see them, to get annoyed with their parenting, so the slight sting of disappointment you felt at their absence was of little concern to you.
Eddie’s absence, however, weighed much heavier on you as you began to dig through the basket of tapes sitting on your dresser. He, like your parents, wasn’t expecting you until Saturday so there was no ill-will as you realized he would be spending most of his night with Hellfire. There was no answer when you called him upon first arriving at home - not a surprise, given that he’d likely had other plans between school’s ending and Hellfire’s beginning - so you were simply counting down the hours until you could try again.
Knowing Eddie - and the ragtag bunch of freshmen he’d chosen to continue the club upon his graduation - it would likely be a few hours more and time seemed to be at a standstill. Having him so close, only a few miles between you, and not being able to see him was infinitely worse than being separated by a hundred miles.
Still, you knew that you’d get to spend a week with him and decided to hope he’d return home sooner rather than later instead of making the journey to Hawkins High in search of him.
With that in mind, you popped a tape into the player, grabbed the most worn book on your shelf, and settled onto your bed in a desperate bid to rush time along. But it seemed as if only a few minutes had passed when, as you lounged - a copy of The Illustrated Man in hand and the nearly worn out tape Eddie gave you when you first began dating filling the stifling silence - you heard the quiet tapping at your window.
For a brief moment, you wondered if the tape was beginning to wear out - it was nearing a year old and you played it often, especially now that you and Eddie no longer saw one another on a daily basis - but the noise grew louder as the song played on.
The rational part of your brain, the part that had been on edge since returning to Hawkins, told you that it was nothing more than a branch tapping against the window as you marked the page in your book and tossed it onto the bed. The paranoid part - the part that seemed to assume the worst, especially at home - begged to differ.
Quietly, you climbed from the bed and slowly approached the window.
Upon first glance, it seemed as if your initial instinct had been right. The dim orange glow of a streetlight illuminated the night, showcased tree branches fluttering in the wind and little else, and calmed your racing heart slightly as you heaved a heavy sigh.
Despite how eager you were to see Eddie, returning to Hawkins had - understandably - set you on edge. However, you refused to let the twinge of unease that settled in your chest upon crossing the county line ruin your break. This would just be another funny story to tell Eddie - a way to convince him to let you choose a movie other than The Evil Dead - when you were finally reunited.
However, before you could reach out to lock the window and return to your bed, a mess of dark hair and a flash of white fabric filled your vision. As the window began to slowly rise, creaking slightly as it lifted, you scrambled across the room toward your closet. But as you reached for the softball bat still nestled in the back of your closet, a peal of familiar laughter echoed through the room.
The instantaneous relief you felt was coupled with an excitement that you couldn’t quite contain - even as your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest - when Eddie began to fold himself in through the now open window. His presence, though unexpected, was a welcome surprise and you wanted nothing more than to cross the short distance that separated you and pull him into a long overdue embrace. However, you couldn’t help but huff in faux annoyance as he continued to giggle.
“Jesus Christ!” The heavy thump of Eddie’s shoes hitting the floor nearly drowned out the exclamation as he pulled himself through the window into your room. He stumbled slightly - out of practice after so many months - before straightening to his full height and snickering as you tossed a pillow at him. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Eddie grinned brightly, eyes shining with mirth, as he tossed the pillow back onto your bed before leaning against the windowsill. His eyes tracked your movements as you folded your arms over your chest but he made no effort to hide his amusement. He knew you well enough to know that you weren’t annoyed - not really, anyway - and was able to read the relief in your expression as you waited with narrowed eyes for his response.
“I was trying to be romantic,” he asserted, though the grin on his lips made you doubt his intentions. “I was gonna be cheesy and throw pebbles at your window but I figured your parents would be pissed if I broke it.” When you made a face - he wasn’t wrong, your parents liked Eddie but that didn’t mean they would happily overlook a broken window - but made no effort to close the distance between you, he tilted his head and pouted. “I’m sorry. We haven’t seen each other in forever and I wanted to surprise you.”
With a sigh, you reached out to shut the closet door and shook your head fondly. “Well, color me surprised.” A moment of silence passed as you slowly crossed the room and stopped a few steps away from him. “You know you could’ve come in through the front door, right? My parents aren’t home.”
“I know,” he nodded. His eyes met yours as he pushed away from the windowsill to stand to his full height and flashed with a light you’d missed more than you cared to admit. “Call me nostalgic. I’ve missed sneaking into your room, thought this way would be more fun.”
Instead of giving in to the urge to close the minuscule gap between the two of you, just as you knew he wanted you to do, you hummed thoughtfully. “How’d you even know I was home? Isn’t tonight Hellfire?”
Eddie nodded easily as he took a tentative step forward, grin badly hidden as he made a soft noise of disappointment. “Oh, how easily you forget just how fast word travels in a town as small as Hawkins. I heard you were home from no fewer than five different people before I could start setting up. So, naturally, we postponed and the freshmen will live to die another day.”
The quirk of your brow made him smile - a real, soft, shy smile that made your heart skip a beat - and you couldn’t help but return it as you took the final step and closed the gap between your bodies. This time, the quirk of your brows was an honest reaction - surprise and awe, a giddy gratitude that made you nearly breathless as you realized the weight of his words. "You postponed for me?”
Nearly a year ago, the thought would’ve been met with skeptical laughter - Eddie postponed Hellfire for no one - but now, he simply shrugged.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he repeated, voice going quiet as he searched your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I see them all the time.” He spoke as if that was the most obvious answer he could give and, knowing Eddie, it was the only thought that crossed his mind.
Knowing there was nothing you could say that would adequately express your emotions - overwhelming joy, an immense relief, at being in his presence once more; the feeling of returning home, settling back into the space you know you were made to occupy; a warmth that eclipsed the loneliness you’d been struggling with - you reached out to cup his cheeks and tugged him forward. You caught the flash of his smile as he willingly allowed you to pull him into an eager kiss, lips clashing in a way that felt so familiar and achingly foreign as you relished in being able to touch him once more.
Despite the initial reaction to your relationship with Eddie - confusion, disbelief - you knew that there was no one you’d rather be with. Returning to his embrace made more sense than anything you’d ever done and settling back into this moment made you feel as if you’d never left Hawkins in the first place.
The weight of his touch, the scent of smoke and leather, the warmth of his body - it all combined in a way that ignited a spark you’d been neglecting for weeks. There was no place you’d rather be, no sensation you’d rather feel, and you knew Eddie felt the same way as he slotted himself against you. His hands fell to your hips, ringed fingers digging into your skin as he held you close, and you sighed into the kiss.
Though you would’ve been content to live in the moment forever, mouths slotted together and bodies pressed firmly against one another - his warmth bleeding through the soft fabric of his Hellfire shirt, into your skin as he licked into your mouth - the need for oxygen grew to be too great.
As you pulled away, Eddie laughed quietly and scanned your face with dark eyes. “Hi.” He grinned brightly as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of your t-shirt and settled into a familiar position, gently brushing your rapidly heating skin. The weight of his touch calmed any lingering anxiety that plagued you, washed away any hint of loneliness, and made you laugh as he asked, “Miss me, princess?”
Some small part of you wanted to lighten the moment, brush off his question with a teasing compliment or a flirty remark, but you knew Eddie. Just as you’d been anxious and alone, so had he. Beneath the lighthearted question, a kernel of insecurity - buried deep, nearly erased by the time you’d spent together - threatened to burst. You could see in his eyes that he was truly asking, searching for a reassurance that his longing for you was returned, so you gave him the most honest answer you could muster.
“More than you know, Eds.” There was a stack of letters sitting on your dorm room desk - and surely a matching pile somewhere in Eddie’s bedroom - that attested to the longing you both felt for one another but words on paper mattered so little when you were finally breathing the same air once more. “I didn’t really think it was possible to miss someone this much.”
A look of awe - something verging on disbelief - flashed across his face, however, as quickly as it appeared, it was replaced with a soft smile as he surged forward to pull you into another kiss. The kiss, though clumsy, calmed your heart. And though it had been nearly two months since you’d last seen one another, it felt as if no time at all had passed as his lips found yours. His body slotted easily against yours, as if the space between you never existed in the first place, and never faltered as he poured every ounce of longing he could muster into the kiss.
Eddie relaxed into the embrace, his body becoming soft and pliant, and sighed as your tongue traced his bottom lip. His hands dipped beneath the hem of your t-shirt and you could feel him smile as you shivered at the cool press of his rings against your heated skin. Without wasting a moment, he tugged you closer - desperate to eliminate any remaining space between you - and pulled away just enough to meet your eyes.
Calloused fingers, rough from years of playing the guitar, mapped the path you knew he’d trace later with his mouth, as he laughed quietly. “Fuck,” he sighed, eyes dipping to your mouth before lifting once more to meet your gaze, “I missed you.”
There was little else that needed to be said; there would be time to catch up later, time to laugh about the way Hawkins never seemed to change and how excited he was to graduate, time to wax poetic about how much you missed one another and how glad you were to be together again. For now, the only thing that mattered was getting reacquainted.
The smirk on Eddie’s lips made you roll your eyes as you fisted the leather of his jacket and tugged him forward. With no hesitation, Eddie allowed you to guide him away from the window, toward your bed. There was no question of where this was headed - as much as you missed simply existing alongside him, you’d missed touching him nearly as much - so he eagerly walked backward.
Quiet laughter escaped him as you shoved at the heavy garment the moment his thigh bumped the edge of the mattress. He shifted away just enough to shrug it off - tossed into a corner to grab later - before he allowed himself to fall onto your bed and pull you down with him.
A soft grunt left his mouth as you fell, body slotting between his spread thighs, but he gave you no time to apologize as one hand lifted to cup your cheek. Warm fingers splayed across your jaw, fingers digging into the hinge, as he lifted to meet you in another kiss. The music, once so prominent in the back of your mind, faded into white noise as the world ceased to exist around you. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of his hands on your skin, his mouth on yours, and the soft moan he released as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged.
As you shifted above him, hips dropping to settle comfortably on his lap, Eddie groaned and dropped his hands to your hips. Eagerly, he nudged the fabric of your shirt up, bunched it higher and higher, and grinned when you pulled away long enough to help him tug it over your head. In that moment, he took advantage of the opportunity to shift you and the world seemed to spin as you settled against the pillows.
Eddie’s hands traced your now exposed skin as his eyes met yours. The feeling of his touch, simultaneously so familiar and foreign after months apart, pulled a soft sigh from your mouth as your hands lifted to tangle in his hair once more. He looked pleased at the response, happy to have you beneath him once more, and grinned as he shifted to slot himself between your thighs.
Careful fingers skated down your chest, tracing an eager path to the waistband of your shorts, as dark eyes shifted to explore your exposed skin. You could feel the tickle of his hair against your skin, the warmth of his breath fanning across your hip, and knew that he could hear the change in your breathing as you waited for him to touch you.
“Fuck,” Eddie sighed as he dropped his hands to trace the delicate skin of your inner thighs. “I missed touching you,” he admitted before leaning in to press a soft kiss just above your hipbone. “It’s been a long few months.”
The sight of Eddie between your thighs, dark hair mussed from your fingers and lips kiss swollen, never failed to set your skin alight. Though you always found him attractive, seeing the mess that became of him in moments like this made your heart race. There was something etherial about it, otherworldly, and you were grateful to see him like this once more.
While you studied him, eyes roving the mess of his hair, Eddie eagerly slipped your shorts down your thighs. Laughter bubbled in your throat as he tossed them over his shoulder and winced when he heard an object clatter to the ground.
“I’ll clean that up later,” he promised, though you knew better than to believe that he would. It would lie forgotten until you woke the next morning but the thought of teasing him dissolved as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh.
Everything outside of this moment, outside of the feeling of Eddie’s fingers gripping your hips or the warmth of his breath fanning across your skin, ceased to exist. Nothing else mattered as you watched him lean forward, dark eyes glimmering in the lamplight, to nip at the skin of your inner thigh. The only thing you could focus on was relaxing into the moment as his fingers began to dip beneath the fabric of your panties.
“Can I touch you? I really, really missed this.” Despite the number of times you’d been in this situation, the words muffled against your thigh still settled low in your stomach. They wrapped around your heart and squeezed, had you eager for him to do more than lie between your thighs, so you nodded readily.
“Missed this, too,” you sighed, breathless as he shifted his hands to tug the material down your thighs. “You’re always so good to me, baby.”
In the now silent room, it was impossible not to hear his sharp intake of breath as his eyes darted to yours. Pink dusted his cheeks, always so eager to gain your praise, and you nearly laughed at how eagerly he shuffled closer.
There would be time later for drawn out moments, for soft words and curious exploration. Now, after having gone so long without seeing one another, Eddie wasted little time settling squarely between your thighs to drag his fingers through the slick gathered there. He nosed at the juncture of your thigh, lips pressing to the heated skin as his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and groaned when you tugged at his hair.
A warm hand gripped your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh, as he pressed his fingers into you. Dark eyes searched your face, watched for any hint of discomfort, and you could see the flash of reverence in them as he curled his fingers. He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew the spots that made you see stars, and eagerly set a pace that made you gasp and writhe beneath him.
His mouth traced your heated skin, teeth scraping the soft flesh and certainly leaving bruises in their wake, as he insistently pressed his fingers deeper. There was little grace in his movements, just an eager desire to have you moan his name, but this was what you’d been missing. It was endearing, knowing that he’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him, and seeing how eager he was to make you fall apart made your heart hammer in your chest.
When his fingers pressed against the spot that made you gasp, you could feel his lips curl into a satisfied smile. Eagerly, he shifted, pressed his face between your thighs, and lapped at your dripping folds. The combination of his fingers, his mouth, and the vibration of his moans pressing into you, working in tandem to overwhelm you, threw you over the edge much faster than you’d imagined possible. However, there was little time to be embarrassed as Eddie’s own moan rivaled the volume of yours. He pressed closer, eagerly lapping at your release, and only lifted his head when you used the grip on his hair to nudge him away.
As you attempted to catch your breath, Eddie sat up and quickly tugged his shirt over his head. It followed the arc of your shorts, dropped to a pile on the floor, before he stood to shimmy out of his jeans and underwear. As he hopped out of the dark fabric, you sat up and laughed when he tilted his head to shoot you a wink.
Despite the flush in his cheeks, he stood unabashedly naked and allowed you to rake your eyes across his exposed skin for a moment. “Checkin’ me out, sweetheart?” He grinned when you laughed, eyes bright as he knelt onto the bed. He held his arms wide and raised an eyebrow as you traced the lines of his tattoos. “It’s the tats, right?”
The tattoos were never what attracted you to Eddie - it was his general countenance, the good you’d seen in him, and the soft smile that won you over - but you hummed thoughtfully, anyway. “Mm, totally,” you nodded, giggles threatening to escape as you shifted to make room for him on the mattress. “The tattoos really sealed the deal. Not like I had a massive crush on you before you had them or anything.”
As you shifted closer, knees pressing into the mattress, Eddie willingly turned to lie back and reached out to help you settle above him on jelly limbs. Dark eyes followed your every move as your hands moved to rest on his chest. The flash of disbelief in his eyes returned - as it always seemed to when you reminded him that you’d had a crush on him from afar before you began dating - as your fingers traced the tattoo just beneath his collarbone.
“Still can’t believe Hawkins High’s golden girl knew my name, let alone had a crush on me,” he teased, though you could hear the hint of insecurity that still lingered in his words. He knew that you loved him, that he was the one you’d chosen, but it sometimes blew his mind that you continued to choose him.
“It’s been years. I don’t think that crush is going away any time soon,” you teased, lips curving into a soft smile as you leaned down. “I’m kind of in love with you, you know?”
Eddie grinned and closed the gap between you with a soft kiss. “I’m totally in love with you,” he admitted, laughing as you tilted your head and smiled.
For a moment, you simply studied him - eager to commit the sight of him beneath you to memory - before you raised a brow and asked, “Can I ride you?” He nodded, eager as always to hand you control, and you smiled as you gently raked your nails across his skin.
He shifted beneath you, fingertips pressing into your skin, and your heart constricted as he laughed quietly. “You can do whatever you want, sweetheart,” he assured you with no hesitation, “all you have to do is ask.”
The glimmer in his eyes, so eager to fall back into your embrace after so long apart, fanned the flames of arousal licking at your skin. He looked so pretty, hair splayed across the pillow and lips kiss-swollen, that you couldn’t help but lean in to nip at the exposed skin of his throat. The marks you left on him would be obvious, easy to spot against his pale skin, but he wore them proudly.
Fingers, calloused from years of playing the guitar, dug into your bare skin as you raked your nails across the tattoos decorating his skin. “You’re so pretty.” Eddie’s breathing stuttered, soft noise of pleasure caught in his throat, as you mumbled praise against his skin. The words were muffled, softened by the press of your lips to the tattoo just beneath his collarbone, but you knew he’d heard them clearly by the way his fingers dug into your skin. “You make me feel so good. And I really, really want to return the favor.”
A quiet moan rumbled in his chest, easily betraying just how eager he was to feel your touch, as you shifted just enough to lean over and reach for the nightstand drawer. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing as he shifted his hips to gain some sort of friction.
“Fuck.” Eddie shifted beneath you, desperately seeking your warmth, and tilted his head to watch you dig through the pile of items you’d shoved into the drawer to hide the condoms before leaving for college. “Please, sweetheart,” he begged, voice breaking as you triumphantly hummed upon finding a foil packet in the very back of the drawer. “It’s been so fucking long. Just wanna feel you. Please, fuck me.”
The whining edge to his voice surged through you, dropped straight to your core, and set your skin alight as you ripped open the foil packet and shifted to roll the rubber down his length. You lifted your head to watch his eyes flutter shut, lips parting, as he attempted to keep from bucking his hips into your grasp.
There was nothing for you to say, no words that could make the moment any better, as you shifted onto your knees. Eddie tensed beneath you, his entire body tightening, as he prepared for you to sink onto him. His fingers pressed into your hips as his eyes darted between your face and the space between you, eagerly awaiting the sensation you’d both missed more than either of you cared to admit.
As you lowered yourself, fingers pressed against Eddie’s chest - his heart hammering beneath your palm - you bit your lip and lost yourself in the overwhelming fog of his presence. The sound of his voice, rumbling deep in his chest as he moaned; the warmth of his skin, pressed so close to yours; the weight of his touch, fingers anchoring into your skin; the stretch of him filling you - combined, the feeling of being so close once more hit you harder than you thought it would.
Feeling him beneath you, so eager to lose himself in you, made your heart ache as you leaned down to press your lips to his. Though you knew you loved him, it still surprised you just how much love you felt as you began to set a pace you knew he’d appreciate.
Moments like this, spent together in a bubble that consisted solely of each other, were few and far between. The distance had been difficult, soul-crushing at times, but knowing that he was still there - still just as gone for you as he had been the day you agreed to go out with him - made it that much more bearable.
There would be time for soft and slow later, time to drag out the bliss that you’d both missed, but the weight of Eddie’s hands on your hips - the strength of his grip, the sting of his nails digging into your flesh - spurred you on. You wanted him to feel the same bliss he’d made you feel, to feel the same pleasure, so you focused solely on pulling moans from his parted lips as you sank down onto him.
The pace you set was rough, quick and eager, but you knew that he didn’t mind as he tilted his head back and allowed you to nip at the hinge of his jaw. This wouldn’t last, you both knew that, but with a full week to spend together, this would just be the first moment of many so when his breathing began to grow erratic, his heart began to hammer harder beneath your fingertips, you lifted your head to meet his eyes.
“Eddie,” you cooed, voice soft in the quiet of the room, “wanna feel you come for me. Please? You look so pretty when you come, baby.”
“Fuck!” His grip on your hips grew tighter, fingers digging into your skin, as he shifted his hips in search of more friction. He was chasing his own high - one that you would readily give him, as your own was just as quickly approaching - and lifted his eyes to yours. “Come with me? Please, sweetheart?”
He released his grip on your hip to dip a hand between your thighs and moaned when you jolted at the feeling of his fingers rubbing the bundle of nerves. Just as you watched him, eager to see his eyes flutter shut when he fell over the edge, he studied you as he pushed you toward your own end.
Almost too soon, you felt yourself barreling toward the edge - fingers and toes tingling with pleasure - and Eddie sighed in relief as he planted his feet and began to shift his hips. He came first, a moan of your name on his lips, and nearly whimpered when you followed shortly after.
After a moment, when feeling began to return to your limbs, you lifted yourself from his body and laughed as he rolled his head to the side and grinned at you. “I think you killed me,” he accused, voice shaking as he shifted just enough to roll the used condom from his length and toss it into the basket by your bed. “Fuck, I really missed you.”
“Mm. You just missed sex,” you teased, eyes meeting his as he settled into the space by your side.
“Sex with you,” he amended, though he was quick to shake his head. “I missed all of you. Everything about you. Can’t wait to hear all about your classes and your dick boss and that record shop you wrote about.” There was little doubt he wanted to hear about everything you’d mentioned in your letters and then some, little doubt he wanted nothing more than to spend hours catching up, so you nodded.
“I know, baby. Can’t wait to hear all about the newest campaign,” you returned easily as he tugged you close and wrapped an arm around your waist. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
As you lay in the quiet, limbs tangled together - calloused fingers tracing nonsensical patterns across your skin -, you considered yourself lucky. You were lucky to have fallen in love with someone like Eddie - someone genuine and sweet, kind and thoughtful - and grateful that you’d given one another a chance, even as you battled the distance that separated you. It was only a matter of months until Eddie graduated and then, there was no telling what the future would hold.
The only thing you felt certain of was that Eddie would remain by your side and that you would tackle the unknown together.
_________________________________________________________________
Author’s Note: THE CHOKEHOLD THIS MAN HAS ME IN. I just finished this fic and now I’m starting another for him. I haven’t written in like two months. Who am I. Send help. I even made him my phone background. I haven’t done that shit since high school. AH. Anyway. Have this. The first time writing for a new character is always the hardest. So. Fingers crossed the next one will be even better.
Taglist: @thisisparadisemylove, @meaganjm, @hopelesslylosttheway, @jxngwhore, @janine-sophie, @urofficial-cyberslut, @tasmbestspdrman, @noemotion2day, @umichlover, @slvdsjjk, @fezcosbaby, @x-avantgarde-x
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things imagine#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#v's fics
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i sat in my lecture and started daydreaming about scaramouche,, this is what came out. enjoy!!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, alcohol drinking, nsfw under alcohol influence, small mention of drugs, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail. (please tell me if I missed something)
wc: 2.2k
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
You kneeled on the floor of the campus, hair and clothes wet with some fluid you couldnt specify yourself. it definitely wasn't water. you looked up the windows to the upper floors, seeing a familiar face looking down on you and your now wet books and clothing.
"oops. my mistake." you heard scaramouche yell down to you, his friends also peaking down the window and laughing histerically. obviously, it wasn't a mistake. and he wasn't sorry. he never was.
scaramouche was a fellow student of yours. he was popular, had good grades without even trying, was participating in multiple uni sports clubs and everyone loved him. everyone but you.
its not like you hated him from the beginning. you were indifferent about him, you only heared rumors about him the first year in uni, he was a complete stranger to you. but when he met you for the first time, scaramouche made it his personal goal to destroy you.
you hated him. you hated his ugly face, his annoying laugh, his irritating character, his whole bothersome being.
but why does he hate you? you never treated him wrong, hell, you barely even know him. he just started mistreating you one day without a warning, shoving you around, kicking your books through the hallways, destroying your property and forcing you to do his work.
the second the professor is mentioning a group project he is up your ass, smirking dangerously and making you do all the work. and dont even dare fucking up the project and ruining his grades. "im looking forward to good cooperation.~" was all he always said before never showing up to the projects again.
the bullying continues over a whole year, which made it really hard for you to find friends in the new semester. everyone knew that he has you on his watch, and everyone knows if you are friends with them, he's gonna be up their ass too.
you only found one friend, but he is the best. you didnt need more. he didnt care about the bullying or the "danger" of being close to you.
albedo always helped you with your projects when your very useful partner refused to do his share, which resulted in you always passing and sending in your project before the deadline.
even though the past semester ended some months ago and the new one started, scaramouche and his jerk ass friends didnt let you go (which you prayed for every other night.)
But you didnt want him to destroy your last year at college, you wanted fun, you wanted friends, you wanted a normal college life. you promised yourself to not let him get away with everything again, to fight back.
but somehow, you still sat on the concrete floor, a big puddle of whatever the fuck this fluid is right under you and your books. fuck.
you can't believe that everything is starting all over again. you promised yourself to fight back this time.
the semester just started a week ago, and things didnt change. it frustrated you to no end to just sit there defenseless, but what should you do? stepping up for yourself seemed so much easier in your head.
☆
"Are you coming to the party later tonight?" you heared albedo ask. he laid down on his stomach on your bed, tablet on your pillow, preparing the lectures for the next day.
you went home and skipped your lecture earlier today, showering and drying your hair. whatever scaramouche threw on you smelled like shit, and you didnt want it to stain your clothing.
"are YOU going?" you asked the blonde who seemed to be heads deep into his notes. "usually it's me who forces you to leave your home and meet a few new people.", you teased him.
uni started barely a week ago, therefore semester partys followed right behind. especially at the beginning, where most of the students aren't drowning too much in lab reports, protocols and exams yet.
"yeah, that's why I'm asking you. you didnt mention the party yet, which isn't like you at all."
You sat down next to your door at the plug socket, inserting the airdryer and drying your hair before answering. "The first few parties are the best ones. of course I'm going."
☆
you just arrived with albedo at the party and you two immediately got dragged to the beer pong table by a few friends of him that you barely knew. they usually tried to avoid your presence, but once they are shit ton of drunk, everyone of them becomes your friend as well. it was always like this. you didnt mind it, you were just happy that at least a few people were talking to you.
You enjoyed the first few hours at the party a lot, drinking and playing games, shotting drinks and dancing to the music.
of course, scaramouche and his friends were at the party too, drinking heavily, smoking weed and fighting around. but you didnt care. you ignored them all, immediately leaving the room when they appeared in your view.
You pulled albedos arm and pointed into the kitchen once they headed near you. "let's head there, sucrose and yanfei are there too."
he just nodded and followed you, trying his best to walk properly.
After you shared a few more drinks with your friends, the alcohol did start hitting you properly.
you tried your hardest to ignore scaramouche and his friend group who were partying hard in the living room of the house, standing in the kitchen with albedo and sucrose yourself. where even is he? you thought, not spotting him with the rest of his friends who were all shit ton of drunk, dancing or making out with poor girls from the lower semesters. how pitiful. they didnt know what will happen to them. dont fuck the bad guys, they will drain you mentally and destroy you, only to drop them afterwards like an used tissue.
not that you cared though. you are happy to not see scaramouche ugly face constantly in the crowd of people.
you didnt plan on letting him destroy your last year in college, you will NOT let him destroy you like last year. at least that's what your plan was. somehow he still succeeded in bullying you regularly in the first week of the new semester.
after shotting a few more drinks you lean to albedo who was sitting on your left side, speaking in his ear tipsily. "I need a bit fresh air, ill be going out for a few minutes."
it took albedo quite a few seconds to understand what you said, being more than just a bit woozy himself. "Yeah sure." he answered then.
you stood up and started walking down the hallway towards the door, dodging pissed drunk students left and right. a few of them recognized you, waved and nodded at you, which you always mimiced.
Once you left through the door and stood at the front yard, a cold breeze passed you and you immediately shivered. should've taken a jacket with me. you let your head fall back into your neck, closing your eyes and rubbing your arms to warm yourself up a bit, taking in deep breaths of fresh air. the house really started to smell sweaty and clammy, so the air really made you feel better right now.
Right when you started to enjoy the cold breeze, you hear someone chuckle behind you. "Wow, you really must like me, everywhere i go you are following me." you recognized his voice immediately, sighing slightly annoyed the second you heared him snicker behind you.
You looked over your shoulder, seeing scaramouche leaning against the house wall, a nearly completely smoked cig between his lips, and damn did you curse yourself for checking him out. you hoped he didnt notice.
"Fuck off, im not in the mood." you miffed, leaning your head back once again into your neck.
"The fuck you doing here? shouldnt you be studying in your little room for the next exams? you still have a few protocolls and lab reports of mine to prepare, too." he pushed himself of the wall that he leaned on, dropping the cigarette on the floor and stepping on it before making his way to you, grinning stupidly. You knew he was about to harrass you again.
you started to become mad. more than usual. you didnt know if it was the alcohol that made you more agressive, but you were done with him. you couldnt let him continuously step on you and your dignity, you needed to fight back to get rid of him.
before he even arrived next to you, you turned around and faced him, your hand landing on his face, grabbing it and pushing him against the wall he just walked away from, your hands squishing his cheeks and making his mouth open.
scaramouches eyes widened in shock, not expecting you to get violent, out of all people.
"I told you to fuck off right now, didnt i?" your face came closer to his, feeling your hot breath on his face. "im done playing your stupid games. find yourself another victim." Your nails started digging into his cheeks, making him whine out and moan in pain silently, his eyes never leaving your face, heart beating a bit faster than usual. he didnt even notice the small moan he let out until it was your turn to widen your eyes slightly.
"Did you just-?"
It took him a moment to realise what you were talking about. once he did though, his whole face started getting red, eyes wide in fear and awkwardness. this did not just happen. no way. he panicked, his brain not being able to form complete sentences and finding excuses.
"There is no way.." You started laughing slowly, but louder and louder by every passing second. "Scaramouche? You? A masochist?"
Scaramouche didnt know what to do other than shake his head in denial, eyes tearing up in embarrassment.
"Let go of me." he demanded, heart hammering against his chest, but you only continued laughing. "are you stupid? after all these months of you destroying my life, do you seriously believe im going to just let you go this easily? you fucking slut."
You pushed two of your fingers into his mouth and he couldnt help himself but suck on them obediently. fuck. that's it. he thought. he's done.
but he didnt care. he doesnt know if it was the alcohol and the drugs in his blood, but he leaned into your touch, enjoying the way you degraded him. he didnt even check if there are other people around on the front yard, he didnt care. he just needed your touch.
your own breath started speeding up too, enjoying the view in front of you even more than scaramouche does. "Not so bold now, are you?" you teased him, your left hand supporting your body weight on the wall, caging him in.
scaramouches way of answering was sucking hard on your fingers, swirling his tongue around the digits. your leg settled between his two, and he gave in, sliding down the wall until he sat on your thigh, hard dick pressing on it. you couldn't help but gasp, your grin growing bigger and bigger as he moved his hips on your leg.
"open up." you said after removing your fingers from his mouth, looking at him demandingly. his face was flushed, hair dishelved, pupils widen in lust, no thoughts in his head left. he opened his mouth, waiting nervously about what you are gonna do next.
you took a second and collected spit in your mouth, leaning over his head and letting it drip down into his own. "dont swallow yet." you ordered.
scaramouche stood there, mouth still wide open with your spit on his tongue, dick pulsating in his pants, arms pressed to the wall and you couldnt feel better about the whole situation. "why can't you always be this obedient?" you asked him. "you could've saved me so much harm."
he looked up to you with big eyes, getting more and more impatient. but instead of giving him what he wanted, what he needed, you took your phone out of your pocket and took a quick picture of him in this position.
scaramouche didnt know how fast it happened. was it the alcohol that made him react slower? was he too horny to even say anything until it was too late? he didnt know.
he chocked on the spit and you let go of him, the lack of your touch and the cold wind breeze making him freeze. "Did you just???" he began to ask, but you took a few steps back.
"Dare to come close to me in uni again, and the whole campus will see a picture of their beloved football player being a horny slut on my thigh." you blackmailed him.
Scaramouche couldn't help but open his mouth and close it again continuously, unable to cope with the whole situation right now.
"You dont dare.." he said, trying to threaten you, but you didnt give in.
"Watch me." you said, showing him your middle finger before slowly leaving him behind, quoting him before disappearing completely. "I'm looking forward to good cooperation.~"
☆☆☆
every time I post a fic I have the urge to apologize for my broken english. I hope you still enjoyed it nonetheless!!
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact imagines#scaramouche#sub!scaramouche#dom!reader#scaramouche x reader#scaranation#genshin x reader
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SAFE
pairing; lee know x reader
warnings; fluff, cute bf minho, teasing, jokes, reader feeling tired and drained, use of jagi, going in nature, flowers, words of affirmations, kissing, very cute minho!!
word count; 1-2k
summary; you haven't been feeling the best these days, feeling drained as each day comes. but your cute boyfriend minho has something planned for you, hoping it'll help bring some ease.
a/n: something for myself and i hope for those who also have been feeling this way❣
Drained. You've been feeling this way for quite some time, not knowing why. The busy days at work, interacting with a bunch of people, making reports and handling all sorts of deadlines at once just makes you want to internally scream.
When was the last time you've had no interruptions? You probably don't even remember.
But you do know that once you reach to the comfort of your home, it stops. Seeing your beautiful boyfriend minho just brings you so much inner peace. It may even sound weird but whenever you struggle to sleep in the night time, you shift your focus fully on Minho's sleeping face.
How peaceful and adorable can one look just sleeping away? You've always thought angels only existed in heaven but how lucky are you to have one besides you.
Yes, only an angel could look this beautiful.
He isn't even aware how you thank those from above for delivering his sweet ass to you. A person who brings ease by just watching his face, being in his presence feels like a big warm hug, removing all kinds of negativity away.
You plant a kiss above his head, just before you fall asleep.
The routine begins once again. Getting up in the mornings are always the worst. Minho leaves earlier than you since his schedule is a lot different to yours. Though some days like today, you had wished to feel his lingering warmth right beside you for extra few minutes.
You gain the strength to finally get up and do your routinely quick shower, which has also felt like a chore. Once your done and you've put on your fresh clothes, you make your way down to the kitchen to have a quick little breakfast before you leave for work.
Just as you make your way to grab the milk from the fridge, a sticker note is placed above. You brows furrowed ahead before you read.
Wanna know a fun fact?
Octopuses have three hearts
And they still couldn't love you as much as I do ;)
If only Minho was here to see how hard you was smiling right now. Til this day, you're not used to him professing his love in various ways, almost immediately making you flustered. It's almost in sync when he does these things, particularly on the days you feel drained.
You love his silly little jokes and sometimes you question how he even comes across certain things but hey, it made you smile.
Like always.
You really needed to hear this today. Words of affirmations are so important to you and your boyfriend almost never fails to deliver. He really knows the key to your heart.
Oh Lee Minho, I fucking love you
Surprisingly your day wasn't as bad. It helps even more to know you have the weekend coming up, finally some break. But really thanks to your boyfriend's sweet words that instantly changed your mood for the day. Feeling a lot more loose.
You arrived at home as usual but was surprised to see Minho present. During the time at work, Minho cleaned up the place and made it look a lot more presentable. You appreciate his kind gesture as you were just about to approach him.
"Hey jagi, you're back."
Minho embraced you with his both arms, a warm feel arises as inhaled in this comfort. His fresh soft scented body wash still lingering over him, a scent that brings you to comfort.
"I missed you," You respond back. ever since the morning and even the past few days, you've missed having Minho around you for longer. But due to his work, he's been waking up a lot more earlier often leaving you alone.
"I missed you too, jagi." Minho replies, his hands squeezing you tighter. A part of him feels guilty that he hasn't been around much but he will change that very soon.
The hug felt like it just got rid of all your worries and distress of all them days you've had. If there is one place someone had asked you where you'd stay, the answer would be in Minho's arms.
Minho pulls aways first, causing you to frown but immediately plants a kiss to your head.
"Go get ready, we're going out today." Immediately you eyes open, surprised at his words.
"Where are we going?" You asked, part of you actually feels like a kid as the excitement grows. Minho watches your eyes for your reaction, just as he expected. They lit up almost in quickness, something he had missed seeing before.
"Somewhere, now go" He quickly brushes off. Only to make you get even curious.
"But-"
"Go. Now" He demanded.
"But where-"
"Jagiiii don't be stubborn please, just get ready. Pleaseeee" He begs sweetly, gently pushing you towards the door because he knows your ass won't stop questioning, which makes you giggle hearing how cute he sounds already.
"Okaaaay fine!" As you laughed to yourself getting inside the room.
You've been questioning Minho for the past 30 minutes and yet he still isn't giving up to tell you where you're both going. You look outside the car before opening up the window all the way down, letting the cool breeze hit your face.
How long has it been since you've just closed your eyes and felt some fresh breeze?
You almost forgot how calming it makes one feel. You breathe in and out, all thoughts of the days slowly becoming smaller and smaller until they are left to cease in your mind.
The feeling of nothing. No sadness, no anger, no frustrations, no worries, no stress, no nothing.
Just you being present, having the love of the life right beside you and some really cool breeze hitting your face.
This is what you've missed having.
You don't even realise that you've finally reached your destination, having your eyes still closed until Minho calls out.
"Jagi," He admires how peaceful you already look, his hand moves through the hair on your face, "We've arrived."
The sensation of his hands wake you up, not realising you almost fell asleep. You slowly opened your eyes and watched ahead. You have no idea what this place even is and before you even ask more, Minho already opens your door with his hand reaching for yours.
You don't remember when was the last time you've even visited nature. Nature was always a place you'd end up in whenever you needed a breather. Though these past few days, you couldn't even get yourself anywhere.
Normally you'd raise a comment on how much longer you'd need to walk. In places like these, it feels never ending.
You allow yourself to just feel. Let the wind fall through your skin, your hair as it flies away softly, let the birds sing to you and let the trees embrace you. Hand in hand with Minho, who seems rather ecstatic at the beautiful trees ahead as you both walk.
It feels peaceful.
As you both keep walking, there's fields of beautiful flowers that have blossomed, filling their love all throughout the way. Pink. It's such a pretty colour isn't it?
And before you could even say that, Minho beats you to it.
"Wow, I've never seen this many pretty flowers in my life." He says in amaze and you agreed, "Me too, they're beautiful."
Minho immediately engulfs you in a hug, like he's trying to protect you from something. "Jagi I think we need to hide you away from them," Which made you feel a bit confused to why.
They're only flowers. So harmless you thought.
"But why babe?" You questioned.
"Right well, you see how pretty they are right?" He explains as he goes on, "And how much space they've taken up?" Which you nod to trying to understand what he's coming at. "I fear them being within your presence they may end up taking away my beautiful flower, too."
Your heart melted. Stop. No. How much more cuteness can you take from this man?
"Minhoooo," you whined out, smiling like crazy, "Why are you cute and also are you actually jealous of a bunch of flowers-" you almost laughed.
"How could I not be! They also recognise beauty to, don't they?" He pouts cutely, and your heart is fluttering so much right this moment. You can't believe you've found someone who's this adorable.
"Exactly, so in that case," You grab on to his hand and move away from the flowers. "I'd have to protect my flower too." In which Minho immediately blushed with a cute smile creeping in. God, he is so cute when he gets shy too.
You both venture off until you finally stop to the end. The hills. You didn't realise you both had climbed all the way up here, which to be honest was worth it. You walk hand in hand, mouth dropping at the amazement of how beautiful this hill is.
It feels like your on top of the world right now. Seeing everything from above and below. The gorgeous fields that are formed within this place, the different type of flowers, the greenery. The people, the lights as you watch the city running in fast speed. Perhaps, you may have been on speed to. Not having a chance to actually slow down and just breathe.
Reminding you of the times you would often walk off to nature. Something you've actually missed doing. It brought you so much peace and only today you've realised how badly you needed to see this.
You don't realise when Minho has actually sat down, leaving you to fully embrace this lovely view on your own. He knows how badly you needed this and to be alone for some time.
Which you appreciate so much. You notice he isn't beside you and you make your way towards him, sitting down on the benches present.
You both listen and immerse yourself in the silence. Well not so much until the birds begin to hum, sending a lovely melodic sound to your ears. You don't know how long its been to just stay still. Quiet. No sounds of people nagging you, no one expecting you to do anything, just you two alone, in this world.
Allowing yourself to feel the earth for once.
"I'm proud of you."
Is all you heard as you break out of a trance. You look next to you as Minho watches you with intently with a soft look, his hands brushing above yours.
"I'm proud of you for existing today." The words seemingly hit your heart and before you could speak, he stops you. "I'm proud of you for waking up each day despite being tired of life. For taking a shower, for eating your food even on the days you don't feel too. For going in to a hell called work. For dealing with a bunch of humans that drain your energy and on top of the workload. For faking your smiles in order to show you're fine when really your crumbling inside. For gaining the strength to perform for people and society when all you want to do is hide. He utters, causing you to breathe slowly as you take in all of his words.
You smiled, with teary eyes, "Thank you so much Minho." You feel loss at words. No one in your life has ever seen you this closely to notice such things about yourself. No one. Not even your past lovers did.
But Minho? Oh, he's special.
Now you realise how Minho started doing more things at home, not allowing you to do anything. This goes to making food for the two of you, to cleaning up the place and washing up. Even those times where he would sneak into your showers, which you had thought was for other reasons. But no, you was wrong. Because each time he came in, he smothered your scalp with shampoo with his gentle finger tips, slowly massaging away the worries of the days. He picked up the soap and let his hands work through your body, all whilst he gave you kisses. It felt so comforting and you couldn't even think of anything else. It made it easier for you not to feel exhausted when you have him beside you.
And you never even thought of that, until today. Now.
Minho has always noticed. And he's always shown that through his actions.
Immediately you wrap your arms around him as you continue to sob, "I'm sorry I didn't even realise those things-" which he shuts you off right away.
"Listen jagi, you shouldn't need to apologise at all. It's my job and responsibility to care for you. I don't do these things out of pity, no. I do it because I love you, so much that I just want to make life easier for you." He breathes, "We can't control how we feel but what I can do is make things feel easier even if its little. And honestly this is so effortless for me because I love you. I want to care and do things for you." He emphasises.
You cry even more, letting your tears flow below him at his words. To be loved this way was always what you dreamed. You had thought these things only exist in movies, which only was proven wrong when you first came across Minho.
Minho removes your arms and faces you directly, brushing off the tears with his fingers gently, "Shush. It's okay. You're safe now. With me." He smiles, planting a kiss right above your lip.
You chuckled and leaned into the small kiss, placing your mouth on to his. His lips felt ever so soft.
You both leaned back to the bench, cuddled up just before Minho asks you something. "Jagi?"
"Hm?"
"I know you always love admiring my face, even right now haha. But am I that handsome that you watch me sleep too?" He teased watching how completely flushed out you looked when the shock runs through your body.
"Minho what the fuck-"
He did not just say that. Wait, how does he know you watch him?
"No no jagi it's completely fine. I'm just so handsome to look at, so I can't blame you," He smirked making you feel even more flustered. Great, cats out the bag now.
"This is so embarrassing" You screamed, trying to hide yourself away from him. How weird does that sound that someone watches you sleep? But you don't do it weirdly, it's just become an habit over the past few days. It just instantly makes you feel better and yeah.
You huffed as you got up trying to escape until Minho grabs on to your waist and pulls you down to his lap, "Why are you running away?" He looks further into your eyes. Even though you've been together for time, his eyes still feel so intense, reading through every thought in your mind.
"Hmm? Shy now?" He continued to tease you further, only for you to hit your palm against his chest. "You're unbelievable." You sighed out as you chuckled. "You know what, they shouldn't have dropped you down yet." You thought back to your whole theory on Minho, your boyfriend being a whole angel from heaven who accidentally fell.
Minho only looks at you confusingly before he laughs, planting another kiss on your cheek, "Who?"
You giggled to yourself, "Nothing." And kissed him on his cute nose, watching his puzzled adorable face.
"But jagiyaaaaaaaa."
copyright ©2023 softie00
#lee know soft hours#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know fluff#lee know scenarios#skz fluff#skz x you#lee know drabbles#skz lee minho#stray kids x reader#lee know fanfic#lee know#stray kids fluff
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trouble sleeping // Ross Macdonald x Reader
a/n: send some requests!! needed some Ross comfort again :)
summary: you can’t seem to find rest at night and the only thing that’s helping is your boyfriend Ross
cw: insomnia, pure fluff, mention of pills
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It’s late. 4 in the morning and you just can’t sleep and the problem is that Ross is not in your shared apartment. He’s at the studio with the guys, and he made sure you’re gonna be fine because your insomniac episodes aren’t unknown for him. “Call anytime and I’ll come home.”
It was genuine of Ross but you don’t ever want to disturb him when he’s working.
Even when if it’s the fourth time this week, the thought of calling Ross is in the back of your mind when it should be at the front. In the past Ross has helped you multiple times when you either couldn’t fall asleep or sleep through the night with breathing exercises, muscle relaxation and meditation.
You fell asleep at 2 and now two hours later you’re awake again, unable to fall asleep and missing the warmth of your boyfriend.
Drinking milk, opening the windows for fresh air, hearing soothing music and deep breathing didn’t work. You’re getting frustrated, that’s why you make your way to the couch to turn on the TV.
If nothing works, criminal minds would always be a last resort. The familiar faces of the BAU team and the engrossing plots sometimes managed to distract your mind just enough to let sleep sneak in. You pull a blanket over yourself and settle into the couch, flipping through the series until you find an episode you re-watch quite often.
The familiar opening credits roll, and you try to lose yourself in the unfolding drama. The case is intense, as always, and for a while, you almost forget your frustration. But as the minutes tick by, the sense of loneliness creeps back in. You miss Ross's presence, his steady breathing beside you, the warmth of his body. You glance at your phone on the coffee table, the urge to call him growing stronger.
You take a deep breath, trying to quell the rising anxiety. Ross had insisted that you call him anytime, but the last thing you want is to interrupt his work. You know how important the studio sessions are, especially with the deadline for their next album approaching. But then again, Ross has always been there for you, and he would want to know if you were struggling, in particular when it’s about your insomnia.
You pick up your phone and stare at the screen. 4:15 AM. With a sigh, you unlock it and scroll to Ross's contact. Your finger hovers over the call button, but you hesitate. What if he's in the middle of recording a crucial track? You close your eyes and take another deep breath, trying to decide.
A few seconds later you press the call button.
It rings only once before he answers, his voice immediately concerned. "Hey darling, everything alright?”
“Not really,” your voice trembling slightly, “I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent, sorry if I’m interrupting.”
“Nonsense,” he’s worried, you hear it in his voice, “M’ sorry you’re struggling, what have you tried?”
“Fucking everything,” you sigh, “nothings working.” You want him to come home, be with you, try everything you tried because you’re sure everything he does will have an impact.
"Hang on a second," he says, his voice a mix of surprise and something else you can't quite place.
Before you can respond, there's a knock at the door. Confused, you get up and walk over, phone still in hand. You open the door to find Ross standing there, his phone pressed to his ear and a grin on his face.
“Was already on my way when you called,” he lowers his phone and slips it into his pocket.
“Ross,” you exclaim, a relief washing over you like a tidal wave.
"I had a feeling," he says, stepping inside and wrapping you in a tight embrace. "So I wrapped up early and decided to come home."
You bury your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. "Thank you for coming."
“Always," he murmurs into your hair. "Let's get you settled. We'll try some exercises together, okay?"
You nod, pulling back just enough to look up at him. His eyes are filled with love and concern, and you feel a sense of peace starting to settle over you. “One second.” You demand.
You stand on your tiptoes to brush your lips over his, feeling his beard tickle your chin and the area under your nose. You sigh into the kiss and Ross smiles at your steadiness.
He laughs at the TV when you enter the living room. “Again?” He points at the episode on the screen, the familiarity of the scenes hitting him. “Doesn’t it get dull?”
Ross hangs his jacket over a chair while you turn the TV off. “Never.” You answer his previous question.
You rub your eyes, trying to push the exhaustion away from you, but it’s a lost fight. Even when you would try to sleep because you’re dead tired, you wouldn’t sleep more than a few hours.
After Ross places his shoes at the door, he makes his way to the kitchen. You hear glasses klink and the tab getting turned on.
“How was practice?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from your restlessness.
“Quite good actually,” you hear from the kitchen, “Matty’s just indecisive all the bloody time.”
You giggle because your remember a lot of conversations between George and you where George has said the exact same.
“Some day he’s just gonna go crazy,” Ross laughs and returns from the kitchen with a glass of water and a pack of some pills.
“I brought triazolam, take one and then we’ll settle into bed alright?” You nod and smile weakly. Ross gives you one small nod and leans in to kiss the side of your head.
Ross keeps stroking your hair when you take the medicine and chug the water. “Thanks,” you mumble when you’re done, putting both the glass and the pack of pills on the table in front of you.
You stand up, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into you. Ross laughs softly, his arms awkwardly wrapping around your back. You pay no mind to his struggle and press your cheek to his, your fingers slipping into the short hair at the nape of his neck.
“Missed you,” you slurred, your words getting muffled by his shoulder.
“Missed you too, love.” Your eyes flutter shut as he continues his gentle ministrations, rubbing your back. He turns, nose bumping against yours, and he kisses you softly.
Ross sighs into your mouth. He cups your cheek, the line of your jaw familiar beneath his fingers. He tastes like powerade, you know he drank in the studio. The tension leaks out of your shoulders as he scratches his nails against your scalp, once, twice.
He trails a series of gentle kisses across your skin; your jaw, your cheeks, the edge of your lips. You remain near, so near that your nose brushes against his again.
“Bed?” He whispers against the corners of your mouth.
You hum softly and with reluctance you untangle yourself from him. Tossing back the blanket, you stand up. He reaches for your hand, and you smile sleepily at the comforting warmth of his fingers intertwined with yours.
Wrapping your other hand around his bicep, you follow him mindlessly to your room.
Ross is aware of your sleeping outfit but he knows that sometimes it’s better to change again when you can’t sleep. “D’you want to change?”
You do. You so badly want to but you’re over the top with your exhaustion. You just want to lie down. You stare at Ross, before sitting down on the edge of the bed, your legs giving out slowly.
Ross’ mouth curves into a smile. He turns his back and walks to your closet to pull out a shirt from him and a pair of sweatpants from you.
He walks towards you again, “arms up love.” You do as he says and you feel the cold air hit your chest but the feeling is replaced again when he pulls the shirt over your head. “There you go.”
He kneels in front of you to pull your shorts down. “Long sweatpants okay?” He asks and you nod, steadying yourself with your hand on his shoulder.
Ross slides the sweatpants up your legs gently, making sure you’re comfortable before standing up. “All set,” he says softly, making sure he changes just as fast.
He makes sure to set the bedroom how you like it. One open window, no light but the light on his side of the bed still on, for your exercises later. Every door closed.
Everything’s set so you settle under the covers and Ross climbs in beside you. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” you murmur, your voice trailing off as the drowsiness of the pill sets in. “Still don’t think I can sleep though.” The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting warm shadows on the walls.
“That’s alright, we’ll make it work.” Ross gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and reassuring. “Let’s try a breathing exercise, okay? It might help you relax more,” he suggests softly.
You nod, willing to try anything at this point. Ross shifts closer, his presence a comforting anchor. “Alright, love. Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”
You close your eyes, focusing on the steady cadence of his words. “Breathe in slowly through your nose,” he instructs, his voice calm and soothing. “Count to four as you do. One... two... three... four.”
You follow his lead, drawing in a deep breath and feeling your chest rise with the intake of air. “Now hold it for four counts,” Ross continues, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “One... two... three... four.”
You hold the breath, feeling the tension in your muscles begin to ease. “Now, exhale slowly through your mouth,” Ross says, his tone encouraging. “Count to six. One... two... three... four... five... six.”
You feel your chest relaxing after round 1 and now Ross puts a hand on your chest, to help you relax even more.
You release the breath, feeling the air leave your lungs in a slow, controlled stream. The tightness in your chest begins to loosen. “That’s it,” Ross murmurs, his fingers on his other hand tracing gentle circles on your shoulder. “Let’s do it again. In for four...”
You repeat the process, inhaling deeply and holding the breath before exhaling slowly. With each cycle, you feel the stress and worry melting away, replaced by a growing sense of calm.
Ross continues to guide you through the breathing exercise, his voice a steady presence in the dimly lit room. “You’re doing great,” he whispers after several rounds. “Just keep breathing, nice and slow.”
As you focus on your breath, the soothing rhythm begins to lull you into a deeper state of relaxation. The drowsiness from the pill, combined with Ross’s calming influence, starts to pull you towards sleep.
“Feeling better?” Ross asks softly, his hand still resting reassuringly on your shoulder.
“Mhm,” you murmur, the word barely audible, “Sorry you have to keep up with this often.”
“None of that love.” Ross replies, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love doing this f’ it means you can find rest.
As you both settle down, Ross moves behind you, propping himself up on one elbow. He begins to massage your scalp, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation is soothing, his touch gentle yet firm, aimed at releasing the tension that lingers.
“Just relax, love,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Let go of everything.”
He uses his thumbs to apply a deep and firm pressure toward your skull, using circular movements to massage this area for some time.
Ross continues the massage, taking his time, ensuring that each touch is comforting. “How’s that feel?” he asks softly.
“Wonderful,” you reply, your voice a drowsy murmur.
“Good,” Ross whispers, his fingers still moving in slow circles. “Just keep breathing deeply. I’m here with you.”
The minutes pass in a tranquil haze, the room quiet except for the soft sound of your breathing and the occasional whisper from Ross. With his tender care, the insomnia that had gripped you starts to release its hold.
Feeling completely relaxed, you whisper, “I love you so much.”
Ross leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you too,” he murmurs against your skin, his words a soft caress.
As his arms wrap around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, you feel his steady heartbeat against your back. The sense of safety and love envelops you, and you finally let yourself drift off to sleep. Ross continues to hold you close, his presence a comforting shield against the night.
#the 1975#ross macdonald#matty healy#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic#ross macdonald fluff#ross macdonald imagine#ross macdonald x reader#ross macdonald x you#ross Macdonald comfort
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