#i rlly hope we get a skin for this fit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tkaulitzlvr · 8 months

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heyyyyy!! just wanted to start by saying i legit love ur writing so much ur one of my fav TH authors and i legit love seeing and reading ur stories. THEY R SO DAMN GOOD :)

anyways here the request if ur comfy lol IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG AND I NEED SOMEONE TO DO IT PLS QUEEN

soooo basically like 2017 soft dom tom and like we r in a car driving and like reader is rlly horny and hes teasing her LIKE CRAZYYYYY and resting his hand on her thigh and stuff and whispering dirty stuff to her giving her small neck kisses and pecks and like other teasing stuff (LOL IDK WHATEVER U WANT JUST SHIT TONE OF TEASING) and then when they get home he completely ignores reader and acts like it never happened and just acts normal and goes to watch tv on couch but then reader gets RLLY CLINGY and comes over and THEN STARTS TEASING TOM ON COUCH and like reader whispers stuff to him and neck kisses and the tom gets rlly nervous and then he gives up and like eats her out till shes BEGGING HIM TO STOP (so like some overstim) and then they fuck and yeah just smut smut smut. and tom and reader with praise kink and lots of dirty talk pretty pls. <3

HAH SORRY THAT WAS KINDA LONG AND DETAILED BUT YEAH ITS LEGIT MY DREAM STORY. pls only write if ur comfortable but yeah u can add whatever u want that would fit with the story and YEAH PLS MAKE IT GOOD!!! (u will ur amazing) yeah thankyouuuuuuuuu <3 :)

DESPERATE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you can’t contain yourself, basically throwing yourself at tom. he knows it, but wants to make you wait as long as he can, and it drives you crazy. but, he makes you realise that you should be careful what you wish for.

content: smut

a/n: thank u so much anon i’m glad u love my work, and i hope this lives up to ur expectations. also never written for older tom before so thanks for being my first req to write him🙏

he saw the glances i sent his way, the way my legs squeezed together, palms becoming a little sweaty. he noticed my breathing becoming a little erratic, teeth sinking into my bottom lip, feet tapping impatiently against the floor. he knew exactly what i wanted. but, even when i leaned over, running my hands across his inner thighs, closer and closer to his clothed dick, he kept his eyes on the road, knowing that he was driving me crazy, and he liked it.

“thinking of ordering pizza for dinner. you down?” he asks, completely ignoring my hands which are now directly over his crotch, and my eyes on him, filled with desire. he knows exactly what is doing, the slight smirk tugging on his lips telling me that, and i know that he won’t give up his little game yet. i am in for a long night, my eyes set on feeling him inside of me, willing to do literally anything to get that satisfaction, completely aware that he isn’t going to make it easy for me.

but, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease me either.

“mmm, i’d rather have you instead.” i mutter, knowing that he heard me.

we stop at a red light and he turns to me, his eyes dark, a familiar look of lust present within them. that same smirk is still on his face as he slowly leans over, planting a slow kiss just below my ear, his breath tickling the skin as he whispers into it. “who says you can’t have both?”

my eyes widen, the heat between my thighs only increasing, his words quickly causing me to become flustered, my cheeks flushing a light shade of crimson. he sees this, a small laugh escaping his lips as he plants soft kisses at my neck, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the harsh metal of his lip ring as it dances around the skin of my neck, my head tilting to the side to give him better access. his actions are abruptly cut off by the sound of a horn behind us, tom’s head shooting upwards, the traffic lights already having turned green.

he quickly adjusts himself, flashing me a quick wink before pulling his head out of my neck and beginning to drive away. my eyes focus on his hand on the gearstick, the way his veins flex, fingers tightly holding onto it, wanting nothing more for them to be moving inside of me. as if he had read my mind, he removes his hand, placing it onto my thigh, letting it travel further upwards, moving closer and closer to the place i need him most, his head still facing the road as he looks blankly at it as if he isn’t teasing me to the point that i could scream.

he moves his hand flat against me, and my body jerks in shock, his fingers slowly rubbing my clothed clit, he sees the reaction he gets out of me by doing this, smiling to himself before abruptly moving his hand away, returning it to its previous position on the gearstick as i whine in frustration.

“baby why’d you stop?” i sigh, placing my hand over his and trying to move it back over my heat, but he refuses, keeping it set on the gearstick.

“stop acting so impatient, liebe, or you know you won’t get anything. be good for me and maybe i’ll give you what you want, you just gotta wait till we get home, mhm?” he taunts, watching the way i quickly nod my head, smiling at my obedience, placing his hand back on my thigh, torturing me as his thumb begins slow movements over it.

so i stayed put, trying to distract myself literally however i could, the drive home seeming like hours as each second wasted time, time that could be spent with him inside of me. the teasing never stopped, tom kissing my ear, neck, collarbone, cheek, anywhere his lips could access whenever we stopped at a red light, promising that he’d give me what i so desperately needed once we got home. so i held on, restricting myself, his words keeping me going, acting as motivation as the reward of holding back was completely worth it.

a sigh of relief escapes my parted lips once he turns onto our driveway, my hands scrambling to undo the seatbelt, literally unable to contain myself at this point. tom however, takes his time, not stepping out of the car until i have reached the front door, unable to get in as he pulls the key from his pocket, slowly unlocking the door. i expect him to move onto me the second we walk in, pushing me against the wall, attacking me with kisses, showing me that he meant his promise, but he does the opposite.

he slowly kicks his shoes off, walking into the kitchen as i stand there, pissed off and feeling completely let down. i join him in the kitchen as he stands on his phone, leaning against the counter, a smile forming on his lips once he sees me walk in.

“what pizza do you want babe? i’m feeling like pepperoni.” he utters those words so nonchalantly, as if the things he had said to me, the way he had touched me in the car were all figments of my imagination. i mumble a small ‘get me anything, i don’t care’, before trudging to the living room, sexually frustrated, completely done with his teasing.

he joins me soon after, patting my thigh gently as he sits beside me, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the channels as if i wasn’t sat next to him, bored and desperate. i had reached my breaking point.

“tom…” i trail off, leaning towards him, my lips pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck, taking note of the way his breathing begins to quicken, knowing that i am slowly getting to him. but he doesn’t show it yet, his expression still blank, eyes still set on the tv in front of him.

“baby…” i mutter against his skin, my hand reaching for his crotch, palming him as a low groan emits from his now parted lips. he shuffles in his seat a little, adjusting himself and clearing his throat. still nothing. i reach underneath his t-shirt, my fingers tracing his abs, feeling every muscle, lips still attached to his neck. he doesn’t give in, keeping me waiting, which only frustrates him even more, but i can feel him slowly giving in, only motivating me more.

“please, i promise i’ll be good…” i slowly say, looking upwards at him before climbing onto his lap, straddling him as he has no choice but to look into my eyes. “i’ll be so good…”

i repeat my words, dipping my head so that it is underneath his chin, kissing his neck once again, sucking gently on the skin as i try to leave marks. but i am not finished yet. i slowly begin to grind against his clothed dick, moving back and forth at a teasingly slow pace. it doesn’t take long for his hands to grip at my hips, completely stopping my movements. bingo.

“so fucking impatient.” he mumbles, switching us around in one swift motion as he lays me on the couch, moving on top of me and messily colliding his lips with mine. “couldn’t wait at all could you, hm?”

i say nothing, too busy focusing on the way his lips move against mine. he clearly isn’t wasting anytime as i feel his hands move to my leggings, hooking his fingers around the hem, tugging them and my panties down, raking them down my legs and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. my own hands scramble for his t-shirt, taking it off of him and letting it find the pile of clothes on the floor, my own t-shirt and his pants following, only his boxers between us.

he reconnects our lips as a quiet ‘please’ escapes from my mouth, wanting more than just a kiss, having waited all night for this.

“please what? you know you have to use your words schatz.” he teases, his forehead against mine, waiting for me to speak.

“need you to touch me.” i whine, my hands finding his neck as i play with the loose strands of hair, watching the way he nods his head, seeming satisfied with my answer.

he crawls downwards, kissing each part of my body as he does so, nipping gently at the skin, enjoying the way my breathing is fast and heavy, low whines escaping my mouth. he reaches my inner thighs, still planting small kisses, one hand on each leg as he forces them both apart, letting his head rest in-between them, stopping his motions and looking upwards at me, his eyes meeting mine.

“you sure?” he asks, knowing full well what my answer is, using his breath to ask such a pointless question, knowing that it will only get me more riled up.

“yes tom just- fuck! touch me, ple-.” i sigh out, my pleading soon cut off when i feel his tongue delve into me, my mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as i my hands find their way into his hair, pushing him further into me.

“oh my god!” i cry, feeling his tongue hit all the right spots inside of me, knowing that it won’t take long for the familiar knot to form in my stomach, his teasing meaning that the smallest of touches had the biggest effect on me. he groans against me, the bass in his throat sending a vibration through me, yet another moan spilling from my lips, his name never being said this many times before.

his pointer finger finds its way to my clit, rubbing slow circles whilst his tongue continues to drill inside of me, my release building up inside of me.

“getting close. don’t stop, oh my god please don’t stop!” i beg, my hands lost within the thick strands of brunette hair, the previous tidy bun messy thanks to me, but he didn’t seem to mind, only focused on feeling me get to my end.

his tongue touches my g-spot, a high pitch moan unlike no other i had uttered coming from the back of my throat. he picks up on this, directly hitting that spot over and over, my vision clouding, eyes rolling to the back of my head, way too lost in pleasure to process the fact that the knot in my stomach had released, tom swallowing all of my juices. i expect him to stop, my chest heaving up and down, coming down from my high, every part of me sensitive, but he keeps going at a fast pace - if not quicker than before.

“too much! can’t take it.” i breathe out, my thighs squeezing against his head, careful not to apply too much pressure, but he only smiles against me, completely ignoring my pleas.

“you wanted me to touch you.” he mutters into me, replacing his mouth with his fingers so he can speak more clearly. “so that’s what i’m gonna do schatz.”

and he sticks to his words, his tongue moving back inside me, the overstimulation quickly taking over, my entire body jolting when he hits the sensitive spots inside of me, unable to take the pleasure.

“please…i can’t…too much…”

my words are incoherent, not able to form full sentences as i feel another release building up.

“not stopping until you say the word baby.” he mumbles against me, referring to our safe word that i have only had to use once. he knows that i won’t say it, secretly enjoying the pleasure despite the pain that comes with it, taking all of it in. “you can give me one more, doing so well.”

i take in every single word of praise he gives me, using it to work through the pain, focusing on the pleasure, using it to guide me to my release, my eyes squeezing shut, head falling backwards as it takes over, my back arching off of the couch, this one much more powerful than the last. he swallows everything, planting a few kisses on my lips as i wince, completely spent. my body lays limp on the couch, his moving upwards so that he is hovering above me. he kisses me softly, his thumb reaching upwards and wiping a few tears that i hadn’t even realised had fallen.

he sits up, taking his boxers off, stopping them at his knees, not even bothering to fully remove him. he lifts my body, sitting me on top of him so i am straddling him.

“you did so well baby. you think you can handle just one more, for me?” he asks, running his hands up and down my hips, watching as i tiredly nod my head, a small smile spreading across his face.

i position myself onto him, slowly sliding downwards as he fills me up.

“fuckkkk.” he drags out, his head falling backwards and resting on the top of the couch, his hands tightly holding my hips, fingers digging into the flesh.

i stop about halfway, feeling completely full, not sure how i will be able to take all of him. he sees that i am struggling, kissing my cheeks gently , moving down to my collarbone.

“you feel so good baby, keep going, you’re almost there. shit- so fucking good.”

low groans escape his mouth as i nod my head, continuing to sink onto him until i am fully sat on him, my mouth dropping open, wincing a little at the pain, his fingers nothing compared to the size of him. i place my hands on his chest, trying to steady myself as i begin bouncing up and down, tom moaning loudly, his hands never leaving my hips, watching me move on him.

“so fucking tight, oh my god…” he sighs out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes fluttering shut as i speed up my movements, whining as he hits a totally new angle, never feeling so good, so full before.

his forehead glistens with sweat, muscles flexing every time he squeezes my hips, his fingers leaving marks into my skin, but i don’t complain, the feeling only increasing my stamina. my walls clench around him unconsciously, tom groaning whenever i do it, the feeling only bringing him closer to the edge.

“just like that.” he groans, his voice deep. “yeah, shit baby- feels so good.”

after my two orgasms, it doesn’t take me long to become tired, my movements slow and sloppy. my body collapses onto his chest, frustrated as i am getting close, unable to get there myself. he notices this quickly, beginning to thrust upwards into me, loud moans echoing throughout the room as i try my best to meet his movements, rotating my hips a little, feeling him deeper inside me than i ever have before.

“i’m close. don’t stop.” i manage to say, messily colliding his lips with mine, his tongue exploring my mouth whilst his strokes remain strong and deep, hitting all the right spots.

“me too baby.” he mutters between kisses. “almost there, you’re doing so so well.”

his dick twitches inside of me as he thrusts in and out a few more times, before his cum shoots into me. his head quickly falls backwards, eyebrows furrowing, mouth falling open as a long groan falls from it, his release triggering my own as i clench around him for the last time. he thrusts a few more times, riding out our highs, our heavy breathing and skin slapping together the only thing sounding throughout the quiet room.

he kisses my lips once more, pulling apart as his forehead leans against mine, arms holding me within his embrace, skin pressed together.

“you did so good meine liebe. took me so well.” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath as i am unable to respond, totally worn out, my body weak as it rests in his for support.

his lips gently kiss my forehead, one hand running through my hair whilst the other gently strokes my back, his breathing calming down as he utters sweet nothings in my ear until i fall asleep within his embrace, completely exhausted.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz

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ohmtoff · 4 days

Text

Shots, shots, shots (Part 2)

Nick Sturniolo x Masc!OC

read part 1

Summary: Nick is most definitely not having fun at a frat party Madi dragged him to, but this boy who’s staring at him hungrily may help him to have a good time (or: a very cliche and very self-indulgent fic of Nick getting it on with a frat bro)

WC: 5.5k

Contains: college!AU, frat bro!oc, anal sex, bottom!nick, top!oc, making out, blow job, rimming, fingering, dirty talk, slight spanking, light dom/sub, slight slut shaming

Disclaimer: read part 1 for background. will contain grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

a/n: well. this was a beast to write LMAO. so sorry for the long wait, i've just been rlly demotivated to write and my draft was just so so long that i often got overwhelmed and just didnt revise it altogether😭 anyways hope it isn't too long and hope you enjoyyy

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“Welcome to my room, also known as the room of the president of this shithole.” Evan plops himself down in the rolling chair at his desk, turning to face Nick on the bed. “Does that make this the shithole headquarters? Shoes off please.”

Nick groans, hiding his face in his hands, peeking out from in between his fingers in embarrassment, pulling off his shoes and throwing them over to Evan who arranges them neatly next to his at the door. “Please, don’t. I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t lie baby. You meant every word."

The objection from before comes out sharply. “I thought I told you not to call me baby.”

Evan pouts, jutting out his lower lip and widening his eyes in a silent plea. “But I rather like the nickname on you. Very fitting. And becoming.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Evan pauses, lost in a moment of thought before turning his gaze back towards Nick, his brows drawn together. “How about we make a deal…” The other boy starts slowly, choosing his words carefully. “…if I can make you like being called baby by the end of the night, I get to keep calling you baby.”

“And if you can’t? What do I get in return?”

“I stop calling you baby.”

“That hardly seems fair.” Now it’s Nick’s turn to pout. “That doesn’t seem like much of a prize for winning.” Time to have a little fun. He continues, slyly. “How about if I win, then I get to call you princess?” Evan visibly blanches, and Nick’s inner self laughs as he watches the color drain from the other boy’s face. Priceless. “What?” Nick goes wide-eyed, blinking with a faux innocence. “You need to be able to take what you dish out too, Evan.”

The other boy laughs. “Fair enough. Deal.” Nick quivers as Evan’s eyes darken, one side of his mouth quirked up in a perceptive smile. “But I’ll just have you know, I never lose.”

Okay, a bit conceited, but undeniably also hot.

Evan paces over, plopping down next to him on the bed, and in one swift motion, pulls him over into his lap. Nick holds his breath as the other boy stares at him, tracing over every inch of his face with his eyes. He lets out a little gasp as Evan presses his thumb into the corner of his mouth, pulling down a bit so he can taste the other boy. And he hopes his lips are luscious enough from his watermelon lip balm as Evan starts running his thumb along his bottom lip, Nick’s tongue darting out to wet his lips unconsciously, brushing against the other boy’s finger. A low groan rises from Evan, and Nick takes in delightedly seeing the other boy’s pupils dilate with arousal. “Fuck, Nick. You’re really pretty, you know that?”

“Of course I do.” The words come out with a lot more bravado than he feels as Evan’s other hand tightens on his waist, his thumb rubbing small circles over his skin. Nick had expected everything to happen fast and hard so the way the other boy is studying him so intently is a bit disconcerting, the attention bringing out a sudden shyness from him, unsure of what he should do or say. Evan trails his hand down to his neck, splaying his fingers out against Nick’s skin, thumb running along his jaw.

“Beautiful.” The word comes out drawn-out, Evan breathing all his longing into it, and Nick’s eyes automatically close, letting it run through him as the other boy presses down on the pulse point of his neck, feeling the blood rushing to his head. His breath hitches as Evan starts at his collarbones, searing open-mouthed kisses into his skin, the tip of the other boy’s tongue forming small circles as he moves upwards, Evan’s lips soft against his skin. Evan goes slow, a bit too slow for his taste, and his impatience tears a needy whine from his throat, tugging on the other boy’s hair for emphasis, making Evan let out a low throaty chuckle against his neck. “Be patient, baby.”

Nick doesn’t have the energy to object, breathing heavily as the other boy finally reaches his mouth, Evan’s hand cupping his face, fingers spread over his cheek tilting his head, and Nick moans into the kiss as Evan catches his lower lip first, gently nibbling. God. And the other boy’s mouth is moving over his, tasting like drunken mistakes, and Nick can’t tell whether it’s him moaning or Evan anymore as the other boy deepens the kiss, his tongue hot and heavy in his mouth. The pleasure mounts, and Nick whines, desperately trying to find some relief as he feels himself getting hard, grinding onto Evan’s lap as the other boy runs his tongue over his.

Evan breaks off their kiss first, nuzzling into his neck, murmuring. “So needy baby, and we’re not even close to done.” Then fuck me already. “If you’re really that desperate already, you’re welcome to ride my thighs as we make out.” The noise of indignance from Nick makes the other boy laugh.

“I thought we came upstairs to fuck.” Nick hisses, halfway affronted that Evan hasn’t even made a move to take off his clothes, his cock starting to feel uncomfortably restrained in his jeans.

“Don’t worry, you’re definitely going to get fucked baby.” Evan grins at him cheekily. “But I enjoy playing with my food before eating it.” The analogy makes Nick flushes, the thought of the other boy eating him out very appealing right now.

Nick lets the other boy lift him up slightly, Evan’s hands taking the chance to squeeze his ass, rearranging him so he has the other boy’s thigh squarely between his legs, the feeling of Evan’s tensing underneath him making his cock twitch. Evan steadies him with hands on his waist, his own hands resting on Evan’s shoulders as he starts moving, feeling the friction of Evan’s body against him building his excitement. Nick whines when the other boy makes no move to do anything as he starts falling into a rhythm. Don’t just stop. Evan seems to understand without him saying anything further, mouth curving into a half-smile. “I like to watch sometimes. Pretty things deserve to be admired.”

The words only deepen his arousal, making it pool in his stomach as he moves, closing his eyes and letting the feeling overtake him. Nick moans as he feels Evan’s lips on him, kittenish licks against his sensitive skin as he rolls his hips against the other boy, slow and hard. “Mmm, your thighs are actually quite nice though.”

Nick inhales as Evan scrapes his teeth against his skin, the rough feeling a sharp contrast from his previous kisses, murmuring. “I don’t know whether I should take that as a compliment or be insulted that you sound surprised about it.”

“It’s not like I would kn-“ His words are cut off abruptly as Evan slides his hand fully underneath his shirt, brushing his thumb over his nipple, drawing out another low moan as Evan pinches it, rolling his nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“But yes. Lots and lots of squats. And playing soccer for the school team.”

“Are you any good?”

“Yeah," Evan’s breath is hot against his ear, teasingly sweet, the whisper making a thrill run through him. “Added plus if you like it, baby.”

“I-I d-do.” Nick curses himself for stammering, the other boy choosing that exact instant to start nibbling on his earlobe again, a particularly sensitive spot for him. Evan’s throaty moan into his ear almost physically hurts, the hand cupping his ass and squeezing not helping matters.

“God, fuck. Vou meter em você ate você gritar meu nome.”

Nick doesn’t understand what it means, but the low growl into his ear makes him aroused anyway, the urge to be fucked getting stronger by the minute. “Don’t know what the fuck you just said, but it sounded hot.”

“I said I’m gonna fuck you until you scream my name.” Nick gasps as Evan bites down a bit hard at the base of his neck, surely leaving a mark on his skin for tomorrow. And he doesn’t think he minds, the thought of everyone knowing about this making him curl up on the inside with embarrassment that somehow only serves to heighten his arousal. But maybe it doesn’t even matter if Evan leaves any marks as half the room had seen them go upstairs together.

“Then do it.” His sharp demand just makes the other boy shake his head, the amusement at his frustration evident on Evan’s features. The other boy leans backwards languidly, resting with his elbows on the bed, stopping to just stare at him. The silence goes on for too long, and Nick can feel himself getting flushed as Evan does nothing but rake his gaze over him. “What?”

The other boy comes closer slowly, taking his goddamn time, and Nick feels as if his audacity may have gotten him into trouble, Evan looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. He doesn’t move as the other boy gets closer, the feeling of Evan’s fingers on his lips again, nail digging in at the corner of his mouth, dipping in ever so slightly. And Nick parts his lips, mewling as the other boy slips them in, automatically sucking, the anticipation of possibly having Evan’s fingers curling deliciously in his ass making him eager and hungry. The fingers pressing down on his tongue, sliding further back makes him nearly gag, and Evan strokes his cheek in response, murmuring an apology, pulling his fingers out slightly as Nick continues to slick them with saliva.

“Pretty mouth, sharp tongue.” He makes a noise of displeasure when Evan takes out his fingers. “I bet you look beautiful sucking cock.” The bold statement makes him flush, makes him remember his earlier thoughts, his eyes flicking downwards to stare again at the other boy’s tattoo, somehow forgotten and like a distant memory.

It ripples when he breathes.

Evan’s amused laugh makes him feel embarrassed, caught staring a few beats too long. “Do you like it?” The other boy’s fingers run through his hair, ruffling it, his thumb brushing Nick’s cheek. “Does it turn you on?” Nick doesn’t know what to say. “I’ll tell you a secret.” Evan’s breath on his ear. “If it turns you on, it means you really like get railed in bed baby. Especially by me.” The slow grin spreads over the other boy’s face as Evan watches his eyes widen, his mouth gaping, utterly speechless.

Evan’s eyes narrow, his voice low and silky, no longer playful and amused, and Nick finds it difficult to swallow as he sees Evan slowly unbuckling his belt, counting the belt holes one by one as the the other boy pulls at the end excruciatingly slowly. One. Two. Three. Four. And he’s waiting, his body coiled tightly, the tenseness making him almost shiver as he watches, the top button and the zipper that comes down slowly.

The red of Evan’s boxers are showing now, the sharp edge against the other boy’s skin. “I want you on your knees.” The words are demanding, suffocating, and Nick finds the other boy isn’t the only one that wants him on his knees, the prospect of having more than just fingers in his mouth making him dizzy. He gets up obediently, waiting what seems like forever for Evan to part his legs, and the other boy pats his inner thigh, motioning for him. “Come, baby.” Nick bites his lower lip, wanting to retort, but Evan’s head is tilted dangerously, his expression calculating, and the words leave no room for argument, short and clipped.

He drops to his knees, Evan’s hand at the back of his neck guiding him closer, his other hand pulling down the waistband of his boxers so that his cock spills out, the full barrel of the other boy’s gun tattoo coming into view, and Nick isn’t sure which is hotter, the desire for Evan to fuck his brains out overwhelming him. At least I know it does point to his cock. And maybe on a good day, he’d find this arrogant, but right now, he just wants his mouth to be filled.

“Can you show me how good you are at sucking cock baby?” The other boy cradles his cheek, his thumb caressing his jawline, and it feels soft, the light touch making him want to please, nodding his head. Evan’s fingers tighten in his hair as he goes down, slowly wrapping his mouth around just the tip, gaze turned upwards to stare at the other boy prettily, knowing the effect it has. Two can play at this game. Evan doesn’t disappoint, a low moan drawn out of him as Nick moves down slowly, getting used to the feeling of the other boy’s length in his mouth, too long since the last time he’s sucked cock.

But judging by the noises the other boy is making, he sure hasn’t forgotten how to.

Nick sucks harder, hollowing out his cheeks, attempting to go down as far as he can, feeling the tip in the back of his throat, thankful that he doesn’t have much of a gag reflex. He goes slow, wanting to savor the feeling of fullness in his mouth, letting his lips slide along the other boy’s cock, wetting it with his tongue, running it along the vein down the side, imagining Evan filling his ass. His eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he feels Evan tugging on his hair lightly, urging him to go faster, ignoring the spit that dribbles out as he half gags on the other boy’s cock. He’s always given messy blowjobs anyway. But Evan’s thumb wipes at the corner of his mouth, smearing a trail across his cheek, a dirtiness that feels all too enthralling.

“Baby, you look so pretty like this.” The breathy compliment only encourages him further, his head bobbing up and down at a quickened pace. And he’s given up trying to be coy, concentrating instead on Evan’s tattoo as he moves up and down, remembering his shameless display of behavior from earlier in the night, licking all the way down trying to get in the other boy’s pants. Trying to get here, with Evan’s cock shoved in his mouth. Nick moans as the other boy gets a little too impatient, the hand at the back of his head now pushing him down firmly, his hips rolling upwards to meet Nick’s mouth.

“Fuck, fuck.”

He knows what the swears mean, and Nick tries eagerly to make it happen, his hands bracing themselves on Evan’s ass, waiting for his chance to taste the other.

Evan pulls out of his mouth and Nick can’t hide his disappointment, a whine coming out unwittingly. That whine was replaced with a gasp as the other boy leans down and kisses him. Nick is swallowed up by Evan completely, taking out all the air in his lungs. They’re both panting heavily when Evan stops, his hand caressing Nick’s cheek, a nice, even, slow touch that feels both heavy and light all at the same time.

“I want to come in you.” Evan kisses the tip of his nose, a soft peck that makes Nick’s the butterflies in his stomach fly up into his chest, the action and words making him feel two entirely different things. The other boy doesn’t wait for him to respond, getting up and squatting down to sweep him up bridal style, one arm cradled under his knees, the other at his back, the change making him let out a squeak of surprise.

He wraps his arms around the other boy’s neck instinctively, the twinge of soreness in his knees only noticeable now that he isn’t on the floor anymore. Evan deposits him on the bed gently, his head settling on the pillow, suddenly feeling small as the other boy looms over him, Evan making quick work of pulling off his pants, his boxers, and Nick stares as the expanse of skin comes into view, the other boy fully naked.

Evan pauses for a second, hesitant, before asking, his voice catching in his throat. “Can I undress you baby?”

He nods, not daring to make a sound, holding his breath as Evan starts from the bottom, unbuttoning his pants, and Nick lifts his butt upwards slightly so the other boy can pull them off, his boxers coming off right after, his cock still hard, hissing as the cold-ish air hits his skin. And then the tank top is being pulled over his head, his arms stretched upwards. He moans as the other boy starts planting kisses over his body, starting from his neck and trailing downwards to his cock, a groan of need vibrating in the back of his throat as Evan kisses the tip, bucking his hips up for more, hands pressing in a burning warmth over the skin of his inner thighs.

“Baby.” Evan says it almost reverently, as if Nick is everything, and he feels every syllable down to his toes and tips of his fingers as Evan continues. “You’re so beautiful. And fuckable.” And it’s the way the other boy says it, the tone a mix between waiting to worship and use him, that gets him off, and Nick thinks that maybe he’s in trouble. “Get on your hands and knees for me. Facing that way.”

Nick does, facing the closed door to Evan’s room in anticipation. He can hear the other boy shifting on the bed behind him, feeling Evan’s hand on his ass, one hand squeezing lightly. The sound of a drawer opening, the other boy rummaging around for a few moments. “Fuck.” The tone isn’t encouraging, and Nick glances back, trying to get a glimpse of Evan. “I ran out of condoms.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Nick groans as he falls over on to the bed on his back, looking up to stare with wide-eyed disappointment at Evan, who’s running his hand through his black hair, the frustration knotting his brows together as he stares down at his phone. “No, I’m not, but just lemme text Nate. He’ll just steal some from his roommate.” Nick nearly gets his head taken off as the other boy throws a few things at him. “In the meantime, pick your favorite flavor.”

“My what?” Nick looks down at the colorful bottles presented to him. “Oh my god, who the fuck needs this much lube?”

Evan laughs. “I like to provide options baby.”

Nick stares at the other boy, aghast. “Why don’t you just use plain old lube.”

“Mmm.” Evan leans down to kiss him, his teeth catching Nick’s bottom lip in a small bite. “Because I want to eat you out until your legs shake so hard you can’t keep yourself up.” The other boy ends with statement with a kiss on his forehead. “So pick.”

Nick bites his bottom lip so a pathetic whine won’t come out his mouth. “Fine, strawberry.”

There’s a knock on the door, the sound of Nate’s voice making its way through from the other side. “You’re the fucking worst, Evan. I was talking to that hot AKA girl I told you about and I was so close to kissing her. But yeah, leaving the box out here like you asked, you ingrate.”

“Sorry, man.” Evan laughs his friend’s outrage.

Evan strides to the door, opening it just a crack and crouching down to sneak his hand out before retrieving the box, closing the door firmly behind him.

Nick eyes the other boy, not quite trusting Evan quite so much now. After all, Evan quite literally just had to phone-a-friend to get condoms. “Aren’t you going to lock the door?” The other boy grins at him, the smile spreading across his face in unrestrained delight. “Why? Does it bother you? Scared someone will walk in?”

“No.” Nick raises his voice defensively, not willing to admit any sign of weakness. “Just thought it might be best since, you know, like a quarter of the school is downstairs partying.”

“Mmm, but doesn’t the possibility of getting caught turn you on baby?” Evan tilts his chin up, staring down at him teasingly, the dangerous look lighting the arousal in his groin again, feeling his cock respond even if his mind doesn’t want to admit it. “The thought that someone could walk in and see me fucking you from behind. Or on your back while I’m plowing into you. Or you bouncing on my dick. ” Evan’s eyes narrow, Nick’s dilated pupils making him more than a little excited, anticipation curling in his stomach again.

“Not really.”

“Hmmm, I thought you’d be the type that is into that sort of thing.” Evan smiles at him, all too innocently. “Maybe you will be the next time I fuck you.” Nick squeals as the other boy brings his hands up underneath his ass where he’s sitting, pushing him upwards, back into position on his hands and knees. “Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to find out if you do like it baby.” Nick moans, feeling Evan’s hands on his waist, fingers digging into his hips, spreading his ass with his hands, his thumbs digging into his skin, the slight puff of hot breath against his asshole making him automatically clench. “And it’s okay, people know what my door being closed means.”

He hears the sound of the cap being opened, the splutter of lube being squeezed out, and he hisses at the cold feeling, Evan rubbing his thumb in circles over his asshole, the feeling him pressing inwards slightly making him tense. And the other boy spreads his cheeks again, blowing, the cold making the goosebumps rise up on his skin, a shiver run through him.

Nick moans, exhaling a huge breath, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he feels Evan’s tongue against him, lapping, licking at his asshole, smearing the lube around, the wetness spreading to the inside of his thighs. The gasp is ripped from him as he feels the other boy dip his tongue in, the heated feeling making him push his ass backwards, desperately craving more. Nick mewls as Evan alternates between pushing his tongue in and light sucks, the other boy’s nose pressed up against his skin. Fuck. And his thighs are already starting to quiver, his legs feeling weak as Evan tongue fucks him, his moans muffled and lost in the other boy’s bedsheets, his face pressed into the bed, all his effort spent trying to keep his ass nice and high up in the air for Evan, the smell of citrus on the sheets filling his nose, reminding him of the smell in the other boy’s hair.

His noises only encourage Evan, and Nick lets out a pant of desire when the other reaches around to fist his cock, the slow stroking motion making the arousal build, Evan’s thumb smearing the precum over the tip. “Fuck, Evan, please.” Nick is only half aware of the other boy, the sound of his wanton moans filling the room, flooding his mind. “P-Please, please. Get in me.” His voice is shaky, his words garbled and only half-formed, dropping from his lips like small spurts of begging before ending in breathless moans. Rinse and repeat. He feels the loss as Evan stops his ministrations, the growl about to come out, but before he can protest, he feels Evan’s finger, slicked and probing at his hole, the first digit sliding in easily as Nick dissolves into a needy moan, Evan pumping into him far too slowly.

More.

He whines, and Evan chuckles, words low and sweet. “You’re so needy baby.” Nick doesn’t even gasp as the second finger goes in, the feeling of being filled every so slightly, Evan’s fingers slick against the inside of his walls as they move in and out. The gasp only comes as the other boy stretches him out, fingers spreading apart to scissor him open, a slow and steady stretch that makes Nick whimper with want to be filled with more. “So needy and beautiful for me, on your hands and knees. More?” The other boy doesn’t wait for his response, eliciting a sharp cry from Nick as a third finger is inserted, a feeling of fullness finally overcoming him, his hole clenching around Evan’s fingers as they go in. His legs are finally starting to give out, his thighs trembling even more as Evan runs his fingers in between his legs, and the other boy finally finds the sweet spot, Nick crying out as Evan brushes against it, curling his fingers deep into his ass, releasing the tension in his body that he isn’t even aware that he’s holding. He scrabbles at the sheets, digging his fingers in, moaning brokenly. “Oh, oh, oh, theretherethere, please, oh god.”

And he’s on the brink, the repeated pleasure as Evan thrusts his fingers in sending him into a dizzy spiral, the need to release hitting him hard and fast. “Shi-Evan, ‘m gonna come, want you in me so bad, please, please– Ev, c’mon, fuck me.”

It happens so fast that Nick nearly doesn’t realize, only the sound of the condom packaging ripping, the noise seemingly too loud, drowning out everything else in his head, and his low whimper at being denied his release provoking a guttural groan from Evan.

Nick groans as he feels Evan’s tip push into him. The latter continues to push himself in gently, knowing he’s big and Nick needs to take his time to fully get used to his girth. Nick can feel himself being stretched out even further, panting heavily at the feeling of the biggest cock he’s ever had.

“That’s it,” Evan praises, “that’s my baby,” he coos, Nick’s high-pitched moan falling out of his mouth involuntarily as he forces himself to relax and not clench too much, letting Evan fill him nicely. He feels incredibly full when Evan snaps his dick in before letting go, letting Nick dictate the rhythm and rock back onto his dick. “Perfect,” Evan grunts, enjoying the view of Nick’s ass rippling as it bounces on his hips. The sound of Nick’s desperate and wet moans accompanied with the slap, slap, slap of his ass hitting the other’s hips filling the room.

It was when Nick falls into a sex-drunk state, begging and moaning as he moves without an ounce of rhythm, just pure desperation that Evan grabs his hips and arches his back even more, angling his ass even higher into the air. Nick lets out a helpless whimper as Evan thrusts straight back into him, hands angrily grabbing Nick’s hips as he gives no time to wait, just jackhammers into Nick who is desperate for that sweet relief, a string of curse words and interrupted moans loudly falling out his lips as Evan takes him roughly, quickly.

“You love it, don’t you?,” Evan grits out, thrusts stuttering and brutal as Nick knows he’s about to come, “love being bent over, thick ass in the air,” he grunts, slapping Nick’s ass with a force than means there’ll be a handprint there for days, making the other squeal. “You love being a slut for me, huh?”

“I’m – I’m – please!- ” The brunette sobs, Evan nailing him on his prostate at every thrust.

“F-fuck, Nick. I’m close.”

It’s Evan’s awed wonder and pure arousal breathed into his name that does him in, making his body tense and his hole to tighten. Nick hears Evan let off a barrage of swearing, the thrusts into him becoming more forceful, the bed creaking with his brutal pounding, Evan’s grip on his waist tightening hard enough that Nick’s sure he’ll leave bruises blooming tomorrow as a reminder of tonight. And at first he thinks he’s chasing the high, but it’s the high chasing him as the spring coiling tightly finally releases.

He comes hard and fast, his mouth open in a silent scream as he falls limp, his legs fully giving way, his body continuing to ride out whatever Evan gives him, the other boy’s final few thrusts only extending his ebbing pleasure. Nick weakly cries out when he feels Evan come inside him, pulsating against his walls. Evan presses his front to Nick’s back as he groans, his thighs shaking from exertion and the earth-shattering orgasm.

Nick winces when the other boy finally does pull out, feeling hollow as Evan brushes his lips against his ass, peppering kisses against his skin as he lets Nick sink into the bed. He feels sated, still riding the high from his orgasm, and he lets out a slight groan of protest as Evan wraps his arms around him, pulling him in to spoon, the stickiness uncomfortable against his ass. He lets the other boy do it anyway, the warm breath against the back of his neck comforting as they cuddle.

It was when he was seconds away from closing his eyes that he has the daunting realization that he wasn’t supposed to be there. He maneuvers his upper body slightly, using his arms as leverage to pry himself from Evan’s grasp, rolling himself over to face the other boy, grimacing as his ass complains. Well, that’s gonna hurt in the morning. He’s not quite sure what to say, how to respond to the other boy, who seems to be half-asleep already as well, eyes blinking slowly, gaze unfocused as he searches Nick’s face.

“Well,” Nick coughs, feeling the regret starting to seep into him at letting this beautiful stranger fuck him into the best sex he’s had in months--maybe ever. The realization that he’s likely just another weekend hookup. “Uhh, this was good.” He wants to kick himself immediately after saying it, the words feeling unwieldy and awkward in his mouth. “I mean, this was great.” The greatest I’ve ever had. “But I think I’ve got to get going now. I mean, Madi’s probably wondering where I am and stuff, and it’s getting kind of late.” Nick feels himself babbling in his panicked state, but the words make Evan’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide-awake, an incredulous look on the other boy’s face.

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Nick chews on his lower lip, suddenly acutely aware that he’s still naked, the thought of the few agonizing minutes pulling on all his clothes before he can sneak out of Evan’s room making the feeling of dread pool in his stomach. “I mean, I’m going to leave now? That’s what you want right? Just to fuck?”

“God, no.” Evan sits up, back ramrod straight, staring at him with an intensity that pins Nick down, unmoving. “First off, Madi is not going to miss you in the slightest.” The other boy pauses. “No offense, I’m sure you two have a great friendship, but I’m pretty sure she’s still occupied trying to get her tongue to touch a pledge’s tonsils right now.” Evan knits his eyebrows together in dismay. “And second, the only place you’re going right now is into the bathroom with me so we can shower, and I can clean you off.”

“Wait, you don’t want me to leave?” Nick asks hesitantly, the hope blooming in his chest.

The other boy gives him a confused look. “Wait, what did you think this is?”

“Uhhh, a one-night stand?”

The sharp bark of laughter from Evan startles him, seemingly out of character for the situation at hand. “Oh shit, wow. I guess Madi’s plan was to just… bring you here and hope we hit it off. It worked, of course.” Evan shakes his head, amused. “Madi’s been trying to set me up with you for months. Actually, before you even broke up with your ex-boyfriend I think. She spent the whole last semester ranting to me about how she hated your ex’s guts.” Evan’s eyes darken. “Something about not treating you right.” Nick gapes at him as Evan shakes his head. “She told me she’d drag you out tonight to meet me, but I guess she didn’t exactly tell you.”

“Oh.” Nick can feel his cheeks heating up, the warm fuzzy feeling entering his veins with an exhilaration he doesn’t expect. “So this wasn’t a one-time thing?”

“No, baby.” Evan sighs, pulling him into a hug, planting a kiss on his forehead before dragging him down into an embrace on the bed. “I’ll fuck you forever. Let me treat you dinner tomorrow? Maybe also a blowjob afterwards.”

Ugh, how romantic.

Maybe Nick doesn’t quite mind being called baby after all.

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tags: @taycherouz08 @piecesofreeses @ameerahsblog @nicksbf @thenickgirl

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x oc #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets fanfiction

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bakugoushotwife · 10 months

Note

hiii!!! i rlly enjoy your writing 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

oml ok idk how requests work but like, can i request sum for gojo? like sum smutty ;)

maybe something like make up sex ;))) honestly you have like sm freedom writing it because i jus need some make up sex w gojo 😩😩

tysmmm!! hope you’re having a great night

a/n: yeah we need to kiss for this one bestie !! no but i love what this turned into, i was stumped over what to make them fight about so luckily the beautiful @getosbigballsack saved the DAY! <3 i love u babies!! gojo looked so scrumptious in the episode i literally have not stopped thinking about him so please take this brain rot and enjoy it

summary: you've gone and spent your allowance too soon, and now your husband is home to deal with it.

cw: y'all-- uh established relationship, gojo, he's kinda mean at times ngl, spanking, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving) facefucking, cowgirl, , pet names, daddy kink, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, they are married i swear

wc: 3746 unedited

Allowance // Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

“Hi baby! Welcome home!” You sing happily, getting up from the dining room table to meet your husband at the door as he enters. You smooth down the ruffles of your new dress, excited to show off what you bought with him in mind. When you round the corner, you come face-to-face with a less than excited Satoru Gojo.

You stop in your tracks, his glare was intense and you knew that meant only one thing: you’re in trouble. He continues to stare at you silently, setting his keys down on the table with a loud clunk. He slipped out of his shoes, all while his icy gaze narrowed in your direction.

“What did you do today?” He asks knowingly, giving you one chance to answer truthfully before he enacted his punishment.

You start to wring your hands. You knew what this was about of course, but you had hoped to get yourself off the hook. You turn on your best pout, blinking up at him with your perfected sad puppy eyes, your long lashes only making your pout prettier. “Awh, ‘Toru, listen–” You try sweetly, to no avail.

“Ah, ah. Answer me.” He interrupts, to which you promptly shut your mouth. You brought this on yourself, you really did. You avert your gaze as he sits in his chair in the living room. The cushioned seat around him made him look like a King on his throne, staring down at his Queen forebodingly. Even his posture is intimidating; his arms folded over his chest and long legs extended far in front of him, one foot tapping expectantly.

“Did you lose your voice?” He asks, tilting his head to the side, taking in your appearance. You look angelic as always, and he knew that was a new dress. It fits you perfectly, he must admit, tight at your chest and waist and barely covering your ass. The color was striking against your skin. God, you made this difficult. He was glowering with anger, more aptly called sexual frustration and desire. He had all the intentions of punishing your behavior. You were both busy all week, making it the longest he’s gone without you aside from work related trips. In an effort to make up for his absences and tardies, he gave you your full allowance two days early.

He really does enjoy spoiling you, giving you an insane amount of money every week just for you to spend on clothes and shoes. All your hair and nails and lashes and waxes were paid for, whatever you wanted, you got it. However, there were certain rules. His sweet little house-wife wanted for nothing, and he would have it no other way. But you have to show your gratitude, because of him you haven’t worked in years. You have to make your allowance last until your next one, just because he knew you were impulsive and couldn’t do that every time, no matter the amount he gave you. Your tastes grew more and more expensive with every deposit in your bank account, though most of it was spent on beautiful outfits and gorgeous lingerie that only he would consume. You blew it all this time in one day, a new record.

You shake your head, eyes trained on the floor. “No, I didn’t..”

“No, what?” He arches his brow, waiting.

“No daddy.” You correct yourself, swaying from side to side in your pretty little dress, showing how the material flowed out around you. “ ‘M sorry daddy, really…jus wanted to get all pretty for you.”

Your pout truly was magical, your sweet face trying to bail you out of your punishment. He watched the skirt move for a minute, eyes trailing down your exposed legs and onto the new Alexander McQueen heels hugging your feet. So that’s where most of your money went. Undeniably, the shoes were made for his princess, but that was besides the point right now. All prettied up you were indeed, and he would make good use of it.

“You know the rules, baby girl.” He says sternly, even the use of one of his many pet names for you seemed harsh. He spread his legs a little more in front of him, waiting for you to behave. His stance and authoritative tone made your pussy throb immediately. You did feel bad for making him angry, but you knew you wouldn’t necessarily dislike your punishment either, in fact you were looking forward to it.

You stepped toward him, heels clicking against the beautiful hardwood floors of the Gojo home. He offered one hand out to you, the other supporting his cheek as if he was growing bored from waiting. Your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his slender ones and your cheeks start to warm, a knot growing in your stomach in anticipation. You step up onto the arm of his chair with your knees, getting your balance before laying across his lap, your elbows propped up on the other arm of the chair. He watched you with dilated pupils, all your effort to make him want you worked like a charm, as if you needed to do anything special in the first place. It had been a long week, followed by this stunt? You were definitely in for it this time. He hisses when he bunches the skirt of your dress in his fist, revealing a lacy and barely-there thong.

You smirk to yourself now that he can’t see your face. You knew he liked it, you could feel his approval for the way you look poking into your stomach right now. You wiggle your ass for him, a soft giggle escaping your lips. That quickly turns to a gasp when his large hand smacks down on your skin, making your asscheek sting immediately. The surprise makes you jump forward a little bit, and he doesn’t hesitate to jerk you back. He gives an equally hard slap to your other cheek, and the pain is sweet. You like the way it burns paired with his satisfied grunts as he watches your recoil each time.

“Aren’t you supposed to be counting?” He reminds, not much of a question at all. His typical grin is replaced by a dark smirk as he applies another spank to your backside.

“Three.” You hum, wiggling in his lap inadvertently. He chuckles at the sight of you, shaking his head. You’ve only given him one option, to increase the rate and intensity.

“What a bad girl I have. Disappointing daddy like this.” He clicks his tongue. You whip your head around at this, you weren’t a bad girl! You just wanted to dress up for him, you couldn’t help that the rules were gonna keep you from doing that! He’s pouting when you look at him, really putting on a show. The force of his slap makes you squeal this time, and you can almost feel the handprint branding in.

“Nuh-uh!” You protest, heartbroken by his words. He keeps you from arguing it further with another harsh spank, burning the skin and making tears prickle your vision.

“Yes-huh.” He mocks, another spank. “You can’t even count like you’re supposed to. Such a naughty thing. Makes me so sad.” He sighs, eyes glued to the darkening skin of your rear. He was in fact leaving handprints, and he loved the way it looked.

“Six!” You call out to make up for the ones you’ve missed, your brain getting scrambled under the gorgeous pain and his mean speech. Your body was consumed in heat, your panties growing uncomfortable against your soaked middle. “Daddy, I swear ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean’ta disappoint you!” You pout, the last words coming off your tongue in horror. He doesn’t accept the apology, another smack rippling across your sore ass. “Seven!” Your chin wobbles.

“Go ahead and cry. Maybe if you cry for Daddy, I’ll forgive you.” He grins, hand coming down on you once more. “You’ll have to make it up to me, since you’re such a spoiled brat. Why would you ignore my rules unless you were a bad girl? This isn’t even a punishment for you, look how wet you are!” He teases, clicking his tongue as his fingers press against your clothed hole. You can hear the squelch of yourself, lewd and loud and the only sound other than his sadistic chuckles. “Tell me you like it, angel. Tell me the truth…”

“Eight,” You whimper, writhing in his hold now. The pain was turning your vision white in the corners, but you still didn’t want him to stop. He was right, you were a bad girl for spending all your money in one day, you could have picked less expensive pieces, but you wanted to push Satoru to his limit. You sniffle, the tears welling up so big they cloud the rest of your vision. Your ass is almost numb when you feel his hand again. “Nine! ‘M sorry, imma bad girl ‘n I love your spankin’s..” You whine, fat tears finally rolling down your cheeks.

He hums, reaching for your chin so he can see your face, cheeks red and lip nearly bleeding from how hard you’ve been biting down on it. Your tears make you even prettier, coating your lashes and making your eyes glossy. He loves it, watching your sweet tears fall off your face to be absorbed by the fabric of his armchair. “Can you make it to ten, dollface?”

He asks, gently wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “That could make it up to Daddy.” He hums softly, though his ultimate concern is your limit, and you know that too. You nod, if you’ve made it this far one more won’t break you. He smiles brightly, patting your cheek gently and letting your face go in favor of one last punishing spank of your bruised flesh. He rubs the skin after, trying to soothe it while he thinks of what he’s going to do to you next.

Your eyes close under his now gentle pressure. Your ass pulsates and your pussy throbs with need, your biggest concern now was earning back your husband’s favor.

“Ten. “m really sorry, I mean it! Wanna make it up to you, really make it up to you..” You breathe apologetically, waiting to move until he tells you that you can.

He hums at your sweet apologeticness. His princess truly owns his heart, and he could never stay angry with you. His anger melted the second he saw you, but he had to follow through on his word. Plus, it was fun to see you so ruined like this. He wonders what you may have in mind, so he arches his brow and waits for you to speak.

“Let me suck your cock, Daddy. Please?” Your voice was permanently warped into a pouty whine it seems. He chuckles at your suggestion, how could he ever turn that down?

“Go ahead angel, just for a bit. I’m gonna breed my brat.” He says dauntingly, gently pushing you off his lap. His hands support your waist as you lower yourself to the floor between his legs. His bulge was staring at you, painfully restrained by his pants. You pouted up at him and shook your head, reaching for his button and zipper.

He hummed at your attentiveness, leaning up so you could drag his pants and boxers off. You giggle softly as his member slapped up against his abdomen upon release. You look at his dick with awe. It was just as pretty as the rest of him, long and curved just to abuse your sweet spots. His tip was an angry purplish-red, and pre-cum beaded at his slit. You licked your lips and looked up at him, dainty and soft hand wrapping around his lengthy shaft. You could barely close your hand around him, fingers far from touching. He took his own bottom lip in his mouth to keep from sighing, your hand alone tremendous relief.

He fights the urge to close his eyes, wanting to watch his sweet brat take him. His hands grip the arms of the chair, the suede fabric the only other identifiable feeling other than your warm throat gripping around him. He was heavy in your mouth, tip poking at the back of your throat with inches left to swallow. You decide to bob your head along what you have so far, eyes fluttering closed so you can focus on the feeling of his ridges rubbing against your tastebuds. Your throat relaxes, letting you take in the rest of him with a gentle moan, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. He wondered if you could feel his cock pulse the same way he does, watching cute tears run down your cheeks again, no doubt pushing your skills to accommodate him. He needs more of you, his cock never deep enough. You look so beautiful, rubbing your legs together to relieve your own ache for him, he can’t help but moan out too, reaching for a hold fashioned of your hair.

“You can’t go so slow, princess. I thought you were going to make it up to me?” He smirks, forcing your head along him. You gag around him and he makes an animalistic growl, striving for that choking noise again. He fucks into your face just as hard as he pushes your head down. You have to hold his thighs, digits gripping his lean legs for your life. He giggles at your struggle, though he knows you’re more than happy to please him. He keeps going until he hears that gurgle again, the sign of your struggle to take all of him in. Tears roll freely down your cheeks at this point, your mouth just a hole being used.

He pulls you off of him, relishing in the saliva coating your lips and the heaving of your chest. “Climb aboard.” He hums, looking down at his painful erection and back up at you, his perfect princess but bumbling brat. “Take the dress off though.” He adds with a scrunch of his nose, anxious to see your perfect body under the pretty dress.

You nod and peel the dress off, discarding it into a pile in the floor. You slid out of your heels as well, thinking it wise with your task ahead. His eyes grow wide at the sight of you, a matching lacy blue bra cupping his favorite breasts. “It’s pretty, princess. You’re gorgeous, need you to come sit on me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, watching tentatively as you unlatch your bra and let it fall to the floor as well. “You might as well take the panties off too, then.” He grins, pearly white and sharp teeth sparkling at you.

You grin as well, bending over to slide the soaked garment off, throwing them at him with a giggle. He catches them, sticking his tongue out to taste your arousal off the soiled center. He hold your eyes the entire time, crystalline half-lidded orbs putting a spell on you. You shudder at his intensity, humming as you crawl back into the chair. He tosses your panties over his shoulder, licking his lips from your taste. His only focus is you. Your thighs straddle his hips, his weeping member already poking at your slick entrance. He just grins and places his hands on your hips, pulling you down to take him all at once. You gasp, the sharp burn of him against your womb was a feeling you never adjusted to.

It was one he loved, both the feeling of your suffocating walls clenching and unclenching around him and the look of pleasure on your face before you’ve even started to move. He smiles, knowing how to get under your skin just like you did with him. He pulls his touch back, folding his arms behind his head. He looks up at you, eyes wild with mischief, tendrils of his shaggy white hair splaying over his muscular arms and the fabric of the chair to create a beautiful contrast. “This is your punishment, princess. Gotta do all the work yourself or I’m not gonna touch you.”

You whine, bracing yourself on his chest. “So mean, Daddy.” You puff your cheeks, but start to slowly bounce on his lap, the pleasure of him bumping against your pleasure spot already making it hard to keep your pacing consistent.

“I can show you mean, if you say that again.” He threatens, though his features display amusement. He does find it adorable that you can’t keep yourself together past a few cute bounces, inflating his ego even more so. He has to fight the urge to take control, though he’s not sure he can do it much longer with your pathetic attempts at riding him. It’s his idea of a joke, making his pretty little brat take the top for once. It was clear who took care of you, and that alone was making your cheeks warm in embarrassment.

As if you could read his thoughts, you bite down on your lower lips and commit to thirty seconds or so of consistent bouncing. Your face scrunches up in frustration, and your perfect pout is back on display.

“Aw, baby girl, what’s wrong? Can’t fuck yourself the same way Daddy does?” He hums curiously, his pretty pink lips curling into a grin.

You shake your head, letting your head fall forward into his neck. “No Daddy, I can’t.” You admit, defeated by his blatant show of his dominance over you.

He chuckles, patting your hair lovingly. “Aw, now that’s okay sweetheart. I’ll take care of you like I always do.” He gently reminds, bringing his hands back to hold your waist. He stands up with you, walking a short trek until your back smacks against the living room wall. He grins cheekily when you wrap your arms around his neck. He shifts his hands to support the underside of your thighs, and you know he has the strength and the stamina to hold you here until he’s satisfied.

“Now, much better.” He hums in your ear, looking down at where your pussy swallows him up. He pulls himself out to the tip, plunging into your cavern without a second passing in between these actions. He does it over and over, enjoying the way your body relaxes now that he’s back in control, as if he wasn’t to begin with. You’re still clutching him for dear life, but he’s used to that. Your face softens, only pleasure in your mind. He loves seeing you like this, being the reason you’re so blissful. He groans at how easy it is to slide in and out of you, dripping wet for him and he didn’t even have to work you to that point. “You’re still Daddy’s good girl, gripping me so tight like that.”

You moan at his praise, continuously squeezing down on his length to make him happy. He fills you up so perfectly, his pace starting to increase, your head rolling back against the wall as well. He bites at your neck, the column just too delicious to ignore. Your moans amplified, and he could feel your throat vibrate under his teeth. He leaves marks on your jaw too, sucking deep hickies all over your dainty flesh.

“This is how you’re prettiest, princess, these are my favorite decorations.” He says in reference to his teeth marks and bruises covered in saliva that pepper any skin he had access to. His breath grows heavy, the feeling of it fanning over your new markings makes your skin tingle and goosebumps spring up in place. Your cunt only grows tighter as he fucks the shape of him into it, making him sigh happily.

You can only speak in jumbled whispers of his name and moans, never more grateful for support than you are for the wall behind you, the ability to hold yourself upright long gone. Your hands slide up to tug on his hair, the feeling of his silky tresses giving you something to focus on. His pretty noises feel like a reward after what you’ve done, deep grunts and breathy moans gifted directly into your ear.

“It’s been so long, princess. Didn’t get to have you all week, then you go and disobey me.” He clicks his tongue and grins at you. “I think you just wanted Daddy’s attention, hm? Did you just miss me angel?” He teases, the force of him making your body jump up and slide back down the wall at every thrust.

You do your best to nod, and Satoru knows you’re past the point of being able to speak coherently. He was splitting you in half, you could feel him in your stomach and it burned so deliciously. “Mhm.. missed daddy s’much.” You wail, the rubberband in your stomach was stretched, so much tension that was about to snap and leak out all over him.

He knows this, of course, trying to time his release with your own. As mean as he could be sometimes, your pleasure was still his goal, and he wanted you to reward him for all his work. “Go ahead, princess. I wanna feel it, go ahead and come for Daddy.” He coaxes with gentle kisses to the bruises he made. “I’ll give you mine if you give me yours.” He purrs, watching your eyes roll back with a satisfied grin.

You cry out, knuckles turning white under your grip on Satoru’s shoulders. You nod in acknowledgement of his words, and he can feel you spasm around him to signify your release. He coos loving words to you, eyes glued on your cream creating a ring around the base of his dick. It’s so satisfying, watching you jerk with sensitivity and struggle to hold on. He loves this, his cock jumping inside you before his cum coats your insides. You swear it's in your guts, fee

ling impaled by his cock still pinning you to the wall. His head rests against the cool wall beside yours, but you can see the smile on his face. You smile too, breathing heavily and your brain feels like it’s floating in your skull. You know if he set you down right now that you would fall to the ground, legs still shaking in his hands.

“I think you’ve learned a valuable lesson, princess.” He coos, pressing his lips gently to your forehead. He snakes his arms around your waist before he begins walking with you again, this time towards your shared room. “We can review for the rest of the night, just to be sure you really understand.” He adds, smirking cheekily. “And I’ll go to the bank tomorrow, just promise Daddy you’ll be smarter with your money.” He says with an affectionate slap to your ass while all your weight is supported in his other arm.

“I promise Daddy.” You hum, hugging his neck and pressing your upper half against him. You absolutely would spend all your money the very next day if it means you get this punishment again.

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo is the love of my life #no seriously #i cannot stop thinking about him #its getting to a mental illness level i think #gojoitis #im trying to do my JOB and can't all i see is basketball gojo #how am i supposed to live life normally again #live laugh lobotomy

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doobea · 9 months

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Hi! Hello! Hope you're having a great day. I recently started following your acc and ur works are great. I'm not sure if reqs r open but I'll try to ask. Any bllk character in a scenario where their partner randomly said 'please don't leave me' at midnight or smth. I'm craving for some rlly good fluff rn. Thank u smm!

omg yes i am taking requests haha and you're actually the first one! it flatters me that you like my stuff because its been such a long time since I've written anything fandom related! I'll try my best with this scenario and hopefully you'll end up liking it too! :)

contents: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, hurt and comfort (slightly), sfw characters mentioned: rin, oliver a/n: omg i hope this didn't take too long, I tried incorporating two different scenarios where the statement could be applied :) and decided to pick rin and oliver for this bc they were the first ppl to pop in my mind

"N-No, get away from me!"

The man runs away from the clouded figure in the shadows and into the thick open wheat field. He's frantically looking around, body and vision slowly getting disoriented as panic washes over any logic that was left. His beaded eyes dart towards the distance where a shed stands proud and breaks for it. Sounds of his heart thundered against his chest and he's trying so hard to ignore the fatigue in his legs.

Soon, he thinks, soon this will be all over. Soon everything will be back to normal and --

He trips over a stray log and watches over his shoulder as the shadow enigma creeps closer and closer until the screen fades to black.

Rin scowls as he watches the credits roll, seemingly unimpressed by the whole film, and is quick to find the remote to turn the TV off. "It's not the director's best work and the ending is completely different from the book." He complains, failing to realize that you've practically buried yourself underneath a mountain of pillows and plushies since the start of the movie. "I've heard the sequel is better, do you mind if we watch that tomorrow?"

You had no idea why you even agreed to join him on his sudden horror movie marathon. The whole genre made you queasy and leaves you feeling paranoid, wondering if the monsters on screen could come and haunt you next.

"Maybe we can watch Ponyo instead?" You suggest, voice muffled behind the stuffed animals.

"Ponyo?" Rin's teal eyes advert from the screen and now sees your shaken appearance and his gaze softens. "Was the movie that scary?" He says in a whisper.

Your head pokes out, teary-eyed and cheeks flushed. "Yeah."

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm and calming embrace, as his slender fingers rake through your hair. You have no idea how he manages to stay composed after every horror movie and wonders if he could hear your own hammering heartbeat. "Please don't leave me in the dark."

A longing kiss is pressed against your forehead followed by a quiet string of apologies. "We can stay up however long you want tonight."

"And do we get to watch Ponyo tomorrow?"

You feel him smiling against your skin. "We can watch Ponyo."

⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

Rough noises of tossing and turning are heard from the opposite side of the bed as Oliver slowly awakens from his deep slumber. He groggily calls out your name before taking in the time that flashed across his phone.

"Baby, is everything alright?" He sits up and leans against the headboard, arm reaching out to wiggle your sleepy figure.

A low groan escapes your lips and he soon recognizes that you're experiencing a nightmare. Oliver doesn't hesitate to pinch your cheeks and start tickling your sides, it was his favorite way of waking you up and is definitely a lot more effective compared to shaking.

Your moans soon turn into full-on laughing fits as his hands made their way up and down your waist and dance across your stomach. Your eyes shot open and you see your boyfriend's proud expression beaming in the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes before smacking his hungry fingers away, pulling the blankets closer to your violated body. "What was that for?"

"For the record, you woke me up first."

"I hardly believe that."

Oliver sighs and pinches your cheeks again. "No seriously, were you having a nightmare or something?" He watches your mouth contort into a deep frown and felt a tense shift in the air.

After a long pause, you smile sadly. "You left me for someone else."

Oliver mimics your expression and presses his entire body weight on top of you, earning a loud 'oof' from your lips. "It's just a crappy dream, don't think too much about it."

He feels your arms wrap around his neck, shaky breath against his skin. "Mhm, sorry I guess sometimes it's hard to not think about your past sometimes."

"Definitely not gonna leave you, if that's what you're thinking." He starts peppering your shoulders and collarbones with his stubby kisses. "You're mine no matter what, okay?"

You roll your eyes and gently punch his back, feeling slightly better now that he can't see your reddened face. "Whatever, I think you owe me a date night tomorrow."

He pulls away and fakes a pout. "All because you dreamt of me cheating on you?"

You tug on the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him in for a brief peck on the lips. "Especially because of that."

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #doobea writing #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #doobea requests #blue lock fluff

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licorice-tea · 3 months

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Apricity

Pairing: Sabo x reader

Content: fluff, a little kissing, gender neutral reader, short and sweet <3

Word Count: 0.7k

A/N: just a little something i wrote about sabo! i rlly thought about making it longer, bc usually i write at least 1k words or so even in one shots, but i am happy with it as it is now. i hope you like it too, thanks for reading! :)

Apricity

The warmth of the sun in winter.

Sabo drags you out of bed at the “ass crack of dawn.” Or at least, that’s what you describe the time of day as when you complain about him waking you up so early. You grumble and groan until it’s clear you’re not getting out of this early morning excursion.

“The sun is barely up!” Yet, it still momentarily blinds you with its rays when you walk out onto the deck.

He holds your hand- be it to share warmth or so you don’t turn back, you’re not sure. “It’s about a third of the way to its high point-“ then he turns so he’s walking backwards to face you, “and if the sun is up, we should be too.”

The two of you come to a stop on the starboard deck. “No,” you move one of his hands to your waist, “I should be tucked in bed under my warm covers” then the other, “with my warm boyfriend,” and finally looping your arms around his neck, “and we should both be asleep.”

Sabo smiles and nuzzles his face into your neck. “I’ll keep you warm.” His hair tickles your ear, but you can’t giggle as you’re still trying to be annoyed with him.

“Hmph.” His hands start to rub up and down your sides as the two of you take to swaying in some type of rhythmless dance. “You don’t even like this kind of cold weather.”

“I know.” Sabo finally shows his face again, much to the chagrin of your chilly neck region (and to the pleasure of your eyes.) “But, I do like when it’s cold and I can feel the sun on my face or back.”

His confession is just cheesy and poetic enough to make you smile, albeit softly. “Hm… Like a cat?”

“How dare you! I think I’d be a lion if I were an animal, at the very least.” Sabo says this all very matter-of-factly, causing you to fall into a fit of quiet giggles in his arms. His eyes track your movements- your smile, the way your eyes crinkle, the very sound of your laughter- while wearing a smile of his own.

You quiet yourself again, still grinning brightly, and shrug. “Still a cat.”

He just stares at you for a moment after that, and you think you must have something on your face. “Sabo? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His blonde hair falls over his eyes as he shakes his head to reassure you. “Everything’s perfect, love.”

Such a simple little pet name, but it still manages to make you blush. You push the hair out of his eyes and end up cupping his face in your hands. Now you’re the one staring, but he doesn’t seem to mind the intent observation. “What was that thing you said about the sun earlier?”

“Hm? That I like how the sun feels in the winter?”

“Yeah.” You place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I think I get what you mean.” It’s freezing outside, and the wind chills every exposed inch of your skin, but none of that seems to matter right now. From the way his smile and his eyes shine; warming you from within, while also squeezing you gently to share his body heat… it’d be impossible to not understand the feeling he describes.

“Good.” Sabo kisses you back, gentle and slow. Like you have all the time in the world- which, you suppose you do. It certainly feels that way when everything is cold; it’s the type of weather where you really just want to stay in bed all day. And yet, here you are outside, entertaining your boyfriend’s desire to feel the sun in winter. “But I like kissing you more, just so you know.”

With the sweetest expression you can muster and a tilt of your head, you ask; “Does that mean we can go back to bed?” Alas, your question is only answered with laughter.

But hey- maybe winter isn’t so bad anyway, when you have the warmth of the sun right in your hands.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece #x reader #sabo x reader #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #sabo #flame emperor sabo #op sabo #sabo fluff #fluff #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #oneshot #short and sweet

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papparinoo · 5 months

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something i like about the blue eye samurai is that they let mizu be a woman. And i know thats ironic since shes had to instead be a man, or let ppl assume shes a man so she could be safe or taken seriously. If anything they dont let her actually choose. idk if that makes any sense, but when i didnt know anything about this show i immediately expected the protagonist to be a man. Usually men play those roles, or whatever. So when i heard her voice in the trailer, i got excited! I hoped that she would be a woman, bcuz i rarely see women who dont look perfect, who arent wearing like skin tight suits or whatever portrayed this way. For me personally i always end up wanting a woman to be in the “mans shoes” or whagever the fuck. I wish i could articulate myself better. Like fuck they actually let a woman look badass as fuck, shes treated with respect in portraying her skills (by the story), and she isnt like the epitome of beauty (for social standards or whatever, to me she’s absolutely frickin gorgeous)

They actually let her exist outside of this lens of what woman should look like or act like. I know its been done before or whatever, but fuck it i barely see woman depicted in this same lens as a man and not make some joke about it. Shes not degraded to a sex object, her appearance isnt perfect or the beauty standard, she gets to be a killer and skilled swordsman in the same light as taigen. It felt rlly great.

I personally struggle with my gender identity, i feel somehow someway im not woman enough. So seeing mizu sort of go through not fitting this sort of standard, having this idea of being a man forced upon her, its all so complicated and interesting and relatable. Maybe that says something about me, maybe it doesnt. But im so excited to see where they take mizu and her gender. Akemi feels like such a foil against mizu. She fits the beauty standard, shes observed as a woman and has her own power. She’s unfortunately the luckiest a woman could be in the story, her being married and such was better than being sold. But still powerless at the same time. It makes sense why mizu was dismissive of akemi at the beginning, to her it looked like akemi was just a brat, but even akemi struggles with not being taken seriously. Mizu on the other hand doesnt fit the standard, being mixed, seen less than human for not fitting the standard, not being “woman” enough (the whole husband thing where her actually being better than him immediately made her husband like dismissing of her and possibly ratting on her as well) the whole constant thing of her “mom” telling her she doesnt have good looks, it often felt like mizu was fighting against not only being mixed and “not pure”, but also fighting against what a woman could exist as..”not pure”. She could not just plainly exist.

Gender stuff is so damn complicated and its something ive struggled with. Ive tried exploring the idea that maybe im trans, maybe im a man or nonbinary. But it felt so relieving to see mizu as a character. Something that stuck out to me was when she was talking to her ex husband. He asked “u wanted to be a man?” And she said something along the lines of “i had to be one” and it felt sort of vindicating in the sense that damn idk.. like me and my siblings have struggled with our genders and whats expected of us, especially within our culture. Ive had conversations with my sister like about how sometimes we do wish we were men. To be taken seriously, to easily do things without feeling so judged. Maybe cis people dont do that, maybe they do, its okay.

I just love mizu, and im so excited to explore this story.

#i also love how this story depicts disability with ringo and eiji #those mf r not reduced to their disability or infantilized bcuz of it #also i know i prolly dont make sense at all #blue eye samurai #mizu #akemi

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juunobox · 7 months

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being kolya's doll and letting him dress u up in all kinds of outfits, putting ribbons in ur hair etc but its rlly cute n fluffy :333 a bit suggestive if u dont mind<3 ty love

──★ ˙ ̟ being nikolai's dress up doll ! (nikolai gogol x gn! reader)

summary : nikolai dresses u up in a cute outfit before leaving tgt for a date warnings : suggestive themes , nikolai teases u a little note : this is kinda short LOL im sorry my brain stopped working mid way but i hope u enjoy rgardless

"Aww! Why are you so shy, my dove? Don't hide that pretty face from me~" The jester cooed, his silver hair framing his face gracefully while he gently fastened a ribbon atop your head. His touch was nimble and delicate, treating you like his cherished porcelain doll. Perched on the edge of the bed, you blushed at his continuous praises. "I knew you'd look charming in this one, too! No matter what kind of outfit I chose, you always look good in them," he commented, a sense of satisfaction apparent in his voice.

The outfit he'd selected this time was an adorable pastel combination composed of fabrics as soft as a cloud. The lower half of the attire was fluffy; adorned with multiple layers of frills underneath. The hair ribbon that Nikolai had picked for you also fits just right, infusing the look with a touch of innocence. Under Nikolai's careful selection, you feel like his living doll, dressed to please him- whatever he fancies. He couldn't resist; you looked absolutely breathtaking in every outfit he chose, leaving him greedy for more.

"Just a liittle more…" Nikolai was only inches away from you as he adjusted the ribbon, his tongue slightly sticking out in concentration. "Done! There we go! So so very beautiful, dove~!" He chimed, giving you a small round of applause before trying to step back— only to teeter unsteadily, almost losing his balance. Reflexively, he propped his knee on the edge of the bed for support, right between your thighs. You flinched, the close proximity sending a surge of warmth coursing through your body. "Oops!" His mismatched eyes widened briefly, but his playful smile remained. "Seems like I got a little carried away dressing you up!" he admitted in his usual antics, letting out a soft giggle as his eyes twinkled with mischief. "It's just that you make for a stunning model, it's hard to not admire your beauty, my pretty little bird~" He crept closer, his warm breath tickling your neck.

Your heart raced as you felt his knee moving further — brushing against your thighs, making you feel nervous. He could've easily leaned back after he nearly fell earlier, so it was clear that Nikolai was doing this on purpose to elicit a reaction from you. You cleared your throat, searching for something to say in response. "Are we leaving now, Kolya? Are you finished with the ribbons?" He nodded in response, "Just one more thing!" With that, Nikolai tilted his head back a bit, his trademark toothy grin in place as he observed you. "Let's see how everything looks on you!" Nikolai's voice then dropped into a husky tone, his grin shifting into something more intense. "...You know, on second thought..." His words trailed off; his knee now nestled right between your inner thighs while his fingers traced your waist. "Maybe we should..." You let his fingertips descend further to rest on your thighs. You shuddered at his touch, "Should…?" He couldn't help but chuckle softly, finding your reaction irresistible.

"Maybe we should have a little more fun together before we head out, I hate to make you look this lovely and not get to admire every part of it." Nikolai whispered, his hand slipping under the layers of frills beneath your attire to caress your inner thighs. His thumb starts making circular motions against your soft skin, anticipating your answer. "What do you say, dove?"

#nikolai bsd x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x y/n #nikolai x you #nikolai bsd x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x gn reader #cw suggestive #nikolai gogol bsd

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keirawantstocry · 3 months

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hi hi, anon cause anxious (not you just Am) kinda going off the soft prosthetic one, maybe something about fit and pac actually getting smthn for the burn scars, or tubbo having/finding/being given(whatever rlly idk) something for the scars and going to them being like "how this work? what do?". Im a sucker for soft stuff :> hope youre havin a good day

Anon i am softly kissing you on the lips, we are now softly making out btw I love you

Tubbo gasped as the cold cream was spread onto his back by gentle hands. Pac was sat behind him with a tin of cream in his hands, his legs stretched out to be pressed against Tubbo's thighs. Fit lay stretched out in front of both of them deep in a pile of blankets and pillows, a soft smile on his face.

“What is that supposed to do?” Tubbo asked.

“It helps the skin,” Fit explained as Pac continued to massage the cream in, Tubbo melting under his touch. “It helps the scar heal and helps reduce the hyperpigmentation in the skin.”

“English please?” Tubbo tried to say in a mocking tone but the warmth on his back, hands pushing against his tense back made it hard to do anything but float in the soft feeling.

Fit laughed and although quiet it echoed through the silence of the late night. “It helps the discoloration.”

Tubbo couldn't even mutter out a half hearted okay. All that came out was a soft noise as he fell back into Pac's arms. His body felt like pudding. Pac laughed and his chest rumbled with the sound. Distantly Tbbo realized Pac was holding out the cream to Fit who took it carefully with his human hand. His metal arm was across the room side by side with Pac's leg.

Fit looked at Tubbo for permission and upon receiving a nod, reached forward to start rubbing the cold cream into the burn scars on his chest. Tubbo's eyes rolled back into his head as he let out a sigh. It felt so good to be taken care of, to let himself sink into Pac's warmth.

“Thank you,” he said with the last remaining breath in him as he felt his body relax into slumber. He was already asleep by the time the two men gave their responses.

#qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #poly morning crew #fitpacbo #q!tubbo #q!fit #q!pac

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koorminii · 2 years

Text

gold rush | bangchan (m)

“I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch, everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.” Or, a lot of people love chan but he only loves you. He just wishes you could see that.

⇝ pairing: bangchan x f!reader ⇝ rating: 18+ (for the most part it’s pretty pg) ⇝ genre: childhood friends to lovers | angst | fluff | smut ⇝ word count: 10.6k :o ⇝ warnings: lots of pining, based off of gold rush by taylor swiftie, attempt to use metaphors, kinda angsty, also fluffy, chan is rlly popular, minor character death (not mentioned in detail), misunderstandings kinda? but they’re bearable, chan halfway confesses like three times, but you just don’t want to get your hopes up :(, changbin is kinda mean, self indulgent!!, romantic-ish smut (I tried), the smut is skippable it’s like a bonus part <3, blow jobs, pussy eating, kissing, unprotected sex (we know better), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lovey dovey stuff, time jump, lmk if i’m missing anything

a/n: hi angels, <3 this is now my longest fic… I listened to evermore on wednesday and gold rush and tolerate it filled me with the most insane inspiration ever, so despite my four current wips i whipped this up and posted it in a day so if it shows… i’m so so sorry </3 I could’ve made this way better so let’s pretend I couldn’t have! I hope you like it! It’s way longer than I planned considering it was only supposed to be like 2k. I also added smut which I hadn’t planned on but I made it as soft as possible just to fit the overall vibe I was going for. I wrote this in like ??? 8 hours maybe?? and most of all this shit is self indulgent as fuck like… i’m so !???? i love chan

playlist: gold rush by taylor swift, tolerate it by taylor swift, sad beautiful tragic by taylor swift, she by harry styles (idk anywhere near enough good romantic songs to make a playlist and this is all i listened to as i wrote so… yea idk what’s up with me)

mlist | taglist | navi

When did you fall in love?

You think you could most likely tie it back to when Chan first came to town, brown curly hair falling over his eyes, a fuzzy orange sports headband on his head, and a permanent blush on his cheeks. Or, perhaps it was when he’d introduced himself to you, blond hair curling behind his ears as he stared you down, looking less youthful yet even more handsome. Or, maybe it was when he sat next to you in your freshman year of university, spreading his books along his desk, badgering you for one of your shiny pencils, and winking at you when class began.

Maybe it was after all of this. Maybe you still aren’t really in love, but the way your heart beats when he’s around, when he smooths his hands over your shoulders and tucks his head under your chin, makes you think that maybe you are.

It doesn’t matter though– and it never will. Everybody wants him. All you are is another face in the crowd, a friend to talk to when things get tough. You’re someone with whom his shoulder’s brush as he walks past– not someone who gets to feel the wonder of his embrace. The feel of his lips against your skin, the sweet words saved for his lover. That’s never been you.

The sun beams down on you, its rays glittering over the wooden benches of the park, reflecting off of streetlights and seeping in through the cracks of windows and doors. Your feet move leisurely along the street, and in your hand you cradle a warm latte. It’s the middle of September and occasionally sharp gusts of wind leave an air of frigidness over your skin. Your lashes flutter under the breeze, and despite the cold you’re content to saunter along campus. It’s still warm enough for you to leave your hands exposed without them falling victim to the biting chill of autumn, and it’s exactly what you need to distract your mind.

Each step you take allows the thoughts that have been plaguing you to fall away one by one until they are no more. You’re free to ignore them until you have to see Chan again in all his boyish charm and utter cluelessness. Your eyes shut momentarily as the image of him comes to the forefront of your mind, each crinkle in his eye as he smiles, his dimple, his laugh. It brings a familiar ache to your heart. One that can’t fall away with your steps nor with the frigid air. It is one that never leaves you no matter how much you beg or how much you wish. It's become a part of you, and of that you’re sure of.

What you’re not sure of is how to feel about all that your life has become. When you were younger you were no stranger to love– to watching the way your parents interacted as if their life was a simple romance film. You had never lived a loveless life, whether through platonic love or familial, you had felt it all your life. It was normal.

When you were younger you never thought you’d have the same type of love that your parents had. You’d witnessed all forms of love– the best kinds and the worst kinds– and didn’t think you’d get the chance to experience either one. You’d been on the receiving end of many emotions, the good and the bad, though your attraction to others since you knew what attraction was had always been shallow. A simple crush that made your heart flutter, but nothing that made you want to dance to an imaginary song in the dim glow of the kitchen at night. Nothing that made you think waking up to them everyday would be a blessing, and losing them would be a tragedy. For you, it was just like it was for everyone else. Nothing special like the love you’d always laid witness to. Nothing like the love people on your television would cry and cheer about, completely and irrevocably in love with whom they considered their other half.

When you were younger, you envied your parents. As wrong as it had always seemed, as horribly shallow as it had felt, their love constructed a jealousy in you, an insecurity, a flaw. For something you had been exposed to since being a mere infant, why was it so hard for you to feel? All you wanted back then was the love that made people stupidly happy. The feeling that made a comfortable ache form in their chests and an irreversible smile form on their cheeks.

Now, you think that you simply don’t deserve that love. You feel it, you understand it, yet it doesn’t feel as good as it should. It doesn't feel like theirs.

You’ve tried to reverse it, to become the shallow young girl you once were, but the ache in your chest remains through it all, and the complete devotion you feel towards your best friend is just agony every day it isn’t returned.

You’ve arrived at your dorm room, the grandiose building imposing as it towers over you, yet bringing with it a sense of comfort. You don’t miss out on any chance to revel in that feeling– constantly feeling as if a rug has been pulled from under you in every waking moment of the day. It’s tiring, and at any moment you feel like you’re ready to crumble under the weight of it all. Was love supposed to be so agonizing? So terribly heartbreaking? Was it right to tear you down this way?

Your keys jingle on the loop, and your Mary Janes click with every step along the lacquered wooden floors, the entire building spotless in its entirety and poshness oozing uncomfortably from its walls. Though with every step you took you became more and more at ease just happy that you’d be able to crash in your bed and pity yourself for the next few hours.

That was all your life consisted of now, after all.

You jogged up the stairs, your legs burning with effort and your movements restrained from your long pencil skirt. A blazer was buttoned deftly over your chest and black tights made it so that barely any skin was exposed. Not that it mattered, anyway. You’re a grown woman free to do whatever you please, and if that includes getting sick in the late autumn weather then so be it.

Upon arrival at your dorm room your shoulders sagged in visible relief. The door couldn’t unlock quick enough as you shuffled your way inside, dropping your purse to the side and setting your empty coffee cup on the kitchen island. You knocked your head back, looking up at the ceiling through bleary eyes and a tired frown. Your feet ached in your shoes and you wanted to spread your legs wide without feeling like you were wearing an exercise band.

You plopped down on your couch, unstrapping and kicking off your confining shoes and curling your feet into the couch. You relaxed into the chair, letting the misery and affliction of the day seep into the fabric. Your eyes closed of their own accord, and a content sigh left your lips in bliss. This was your comfort after a long day. Sitting alone to your own thoughts— or rather with no thoughts, allowing the silence to envelop you and comfort you with an imaginary hand on your back. It was this that made every day worth working through— the knowledge that you’d be able to curl up at the end of the day and relax your muscles just to do it all over again the next day.

Ever since you were a child being alone was a comfort you always sought out. Being left to your own devices was the best thing your parents could have ever done for you, and it was when you were able to fully relax. Reading, writing, drawing— the silence of your bedroom was a safe haven for your turbulent mind. Always running, never stopping to give you a break or catch your breath. Your thoughts ran rampant ever since you could remember, tormenting you and making your life an aching bout of anxiety. Silence was something that should’ve made it worse, but it was when you could fall into your daydreams and pretend your life wasn’t your own.

Sleep pulls you under, insistent as it forces your eyelids down.

Chan has always been a stranger to love, and that’s why he’s always done his best to give as much as he could. Since he was a young boy he had never known his father, had never known what it was like to play in the backyard with him or watch basketball games. He never knew what it would be like to hang out with his own dad, sharing secret handshakes and joking around with his mom. He didn’t know what it would be like to feel fatherly love, to feel the embrace of who should’ve been one of the most important people in his life.

Since he was a young boy it’s just been him and his mother, in their downtrodden family home, barely standing no matter how hard his mother worked to support them both. His mother had shared as much love as she could, fighting through the bitterness Chan’s father had left her with and pushing herself harder to provide for them both without any help. She had tried her hardest since Chan was a child until he was a senior in high school, constantly making sure he was provided for and well taken care of. This love should’ve been enough, but for a long time it wasn’t.

Chan had never known what it was like to love someone completely and irrevocably, wanting to shout from the rooftops his devotion to another. He had never seen his parents love each other, had never met either of his grandparents, and had no aunts or uncles or cousins in his life or who cared about him enough to even pretend they wanted something to do with him. In elementary school he was ridiculed, fatherless and pitiful. He didn’t live in a house as nice as the other kids, he didn’t have a complete and happy family like the other kids, or the same amount of money, or the same amount of privilege. To them, he was nothing.

In middle school it was much worse. By that time Chan had been no stranger to bullying. He had struggled through it during elementary school, had been tormented by his peers since before he was a teenager, and didn’t let the words affect him no matter how much harsher they became. To him, his oppressors were the pitiful ones. They were the ones who had not experienced enough love, and no matter how much he lacked he would always hold enough love in his heart for others— so that they didn’t have to feel as worthless as he did.

Chan knew from early how hard-working his mother had been. He knew she tried her best, that she worked herself to the bone just to make him happy. How much she wanted her love to be enough— and maybe it would’ve been had he not had to experience all that he did. He knew, and that’s why he had never voiced his feelings to her at all throughout elementary school and middle school, and why by the time high school came around he was an expert at masking the pain in his heart with a smile on his face.

When Chan’s mother told him they were moving it felt like a weight had been lifted. Leaving all the pain of his past felt like the beginning he needed, the start he wanted to finally be happy. To finally let his mother’s love be enough.

By the time Chan turned seventeen, his smile was the brightest it had ever been. He didn’t know how good it felt to be admired, to be held in high regard, to love and be loved back. It felt good. He never wanted to let that go, and if it was up to him he never would.

Before Chan made it to college his mother fell ill. Chan willed the love in his heart to be enough, hoped that his prayers and wishes would bring his mother back to him. That the love she had always given him would strengthen her and allow her to live as happily and carefree as she deserved. Chan had a plan, he would be the one to take care of her this time around. He was 18, had his own car and his own job. He was going to college to start his career so he could be there for her in return. So she could be taken care of like she deserved. He begged for his love to be enough, but sometimes it simply isn’t. And when the casket closed on the worst day of Chan’s life, he realized that to be true.

Chan rushes out the cafe, umbrella in hand, giggling to himself as he runs across campus— two coffee cups in hand as he goes. Bystanders watch him warily as he runs, wondering if he’ll drop one of the items he’s carrying or wondering if he’s alright, but Chan doesn’t notice and if he does, he doesn’t care enough to stop. His feet splash in puddles, carrying him to your dorm room as swiftly as possible. He’s careful not to slip on the wet pavement and tightens his grip on your drink to make sure it doesn’t spill.

The building is still the same imposing grandiose thing that it always has been, but to him it’s nothing but slabs of cement between piles of brick. He pays no mind to the water that drops down his umbrella over the once pristine wooden floor, simply running up the stairs and to your room. You should be awake by now, he decides, all too familiar with your daily naps after class and after work. His cap hangs low over his eyes so no one recognizes him as he shuffles through the halls.

He knocks rapidly on your door and only stops when he hears your groan through the drywall. His giggles float from his lips freely and unfiltered, and he’s filled with unadulterated joy just at the simple thought of seeing you. His heart thuds in his chest and he hopes he’s early enough to see your face puffy from sleep, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled as if he had finally gotten the chance to wake up next to you.

When the door opens he grins, dimple on full display as you sigh, grabbing a cup from his hands and moving to the side to let him in.

“How was your day?”

“Same as usual— hey!” You place the cup on the table next to your empty one from earlier and move his umbrella outside the door, sending him a glare as you shut it behind you. “Not on my floors,” you huff as he ruffles your hair in response.

“I missed you,” Chan hums, bringing his cup to his lips. “How was class?”

“I missed you too. Class was fine, just tiring Channie.”

A smile flits upon your lips as you cross your legs on the couch, turning towards your best friend’s form sprawled opposite you. “How was the interview?”

Chan smiles, rubbing at his neck in mock modesty. “It went great, honestly. They said they’d call me, tell me what the next steps are and all that shit.” He turns to you, smile blindingly bright. “Fuck, I’m so happy.”

The happiness on his face is palpable in the air between you as you lean forward and bring him into a hug. His cologne sticks to your skin and you bury your nose deeper into his jacket just to feel a little closer to him. “That’s great,” you beam, “If anyone could do it, it’s you.”

His arms encircle you and his lips brush against your cheek. His fuzzy sweater rubs along your bare skin, leaning a trail of warmth in its wake. Chan’s hands run up and down your back and he chuckles. “I know, I can always count on you.”

“Count on me?” you repeated, curling closer in Chan’s embrace as he grinned.

“To be there for me, to trust in me, to support me. You’re always there for me.”

“And you’ll be there for me too.”

“And I'll be here for you too,” Chan whispers, his voice much quieter than it had previously been. He noses into the top of your head, tickling his skin with your hair.

Your breath is silent to match the sudden silence in the room. Chan is still, his nose still pressed into your hair but his hand rests against your back and he leans into you, still holding his weight but allowing himself to relax a bit more in your embrace. You shuffle closer, digging your chin into his shoulder as lightly as possible so that it doesn’t hurt him, and squeeze at his sides.

You know how hard it is for him having lacked a stable support system in one of the most stressful times of his life, and you’re just glad you could be that for him. You allow his cologne to relax you as the silence becomes heavier, enveloping you in its embrace. You let yourself think about things you shouldn’t, allow yourself to wonder if you’d be able to leave a soft kiss against his skin. If he would leave a kiss against yours, trailing fingers across each other and whispering sweet words to one another, simply lounging in each other’s presence. You let yourself think about what would happen next. Would he hold you close? Pull you into his lap? Tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and lean in slowly to kiss you?

“I wish I could tell you what you are to me.”

Chan’s voice almost makes you jolt, so wrapped up in the previous silence that it takes you a moment to recognize he’s spoken. His words bring a frown to your face— one of confusion and one of false hope. You know that no matter how much you want to, you can’t wish for feelings. His hair is soft to the touch as you run your fingers through it, curling tendrils behind his ear and ghosting over his skin as if he was yours.

“I wish you could too.”

When did you fall in love?

Maybe it was when Chan would run his hands along your skin as if you belonged to him. Touching you with such a gentle caress that it was painful to your fragile heart, treating you with such tender care that it was almost unbearable. Yet like a drug you were addicted. To his attention, to his words, to his love. As platonic as it was, it still felt like something to treasure and hold close. It was all you could get and probably all you ever would. Or, perhaps it was when he would take your hand in his, dragging you to a new secret spot and setting up a picnic.

He’d lay out a large blanket, ground it with books and shoes, and then lay out all the food he cooked. Preserved in tupperware he’d make a show of having you try each one, watching with bated breath as you put a contemplative look on your face with every spoonful of food and only relaxing when you’d break character and assure him that his food was the best thing you’d ever tasted, and it was true. It was his and that’s what made it perfect to you.

Or, maybe it was when he’d come to your dorm room every night, right when you’d wake up from your nap, bringing a latte or a snack and lounging on your couch catching each other up on your days, on what’s been happening in the week, and later curling up and falling asleep to a movie. He’d grab ahold of your hand and thread your fingers together— never noticing the hitch in your breath but holding you close to him all the same.

He’d run a hand along your waist, let it slip under your shirt and ghost his fingers across your skin when you hugged. It was all earth-shattering, yet things that were so normal. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of it as anything more than it was.

“So I take it you’re never gonna confess.”

“Confess?” You question, bringing your croissant to your mouth and taking a bite.

Hyunjin sighs, bringing a hand to his hair in order to run through it. “Confess that you have feelings for Chan.” He grumbles, bringing his americano to his lips and looking at you through long eyelashes.

“Be serious, Hyunjin. Absolutely not.” You hiss, leaning forward against the table and settling him with a glare before returning to your croissant. “He practically has an entire entourage. The last person he wants is me when he can have literally anyone.”

“Y/n, are you an idiot? If you had even half the awareness the rest of us have you’d see the way he looks at you. The way he touches you? It’s practically like you two are dating already.”

“But we’re not.”

“But you could be.”

“Hyunjin—”

“I don’t get the big deal? I mean it’s just so obvious-”

“Hyunjin!? The big deal is that I could lose my best friend. It’s really not worth it.”

The eye roll Hyunjin sends your way is borderline petrifying, but you’re adamant in your refusal. You straighten up, swallowing the last bit of your croissant before staring at him with stubborn determination.

“Have you seen any romance movie ever? They always say that and then they end up together because, shocker, they both liked each other the entire time. Don’t be a typical mc.”

“Real life is not a movie,” you scoff, “You can’t possibly expect me to base my reasoning off that?”

“I do expect. You should listen to me. As someone with an outside view and who doesn’t have this fear of rejection I can observe you both very well and you obviously like each other. Just rip the bandaid off and move on.”

“Rip the bandaid off?? Really? Is that the best you’ve got? Not very comforting is it?”

Hyunjin sighs, grabbing your hand from across the table. His hand is large, warm, and you can’t help but be comforted when it envelops you.

“Just trust me.”

Against your wishes Hyunjin’s words stick with you for the rest of the day. It’s not the first time you’d considered confessing, finally letting the feelings that have been building up since high school free— wondering if getting all of it off your chest would make you feel better. But then again, you’d just be like everyone else who’s ever confessed to chan. Begging for him to love them back, face in a red flush, wondering what it would be like to love him.

Day by day the air gets colder, blowing against you so harshly it feels like needles prick your skin. The sky is a deep blue, only covered by a few wispy clouds. Around you couples and friends walk through town together, hand in hand, leaning on each other, hands running over each other’s waists. Happily in love.

You look down at the ground with a sad smile, quivering with each step you take, and this time the silence doesn’t allow your thoughts to disappear— it just lets them come knocking even harder. It happens sometimes, when no matter what you do you can’t escape them.

Against your better judgement you hope Chan is at your dorm. He slept over after a movie night, face pressed against the couch and bangs covering his eyes. you watched him for longer than you’d have liked, but you revel in any opportunity to imagine you both are more than you really are. You know it’s all in your head, you know you’ve got everything wrong, you know it’s just hurting yourself more— but when it comes to Chan you find that it doesn’t matter.

The walk to your dorm is slow, with you stopping to look at everything you could. Staring at worn down buildings, waving at cute dogs, and smiling at people as you walked past. Attempting to immerse yourself in the world around you and stop feeling like a passing viewer— to make it so that it felt like people saw you, and you weren’t just there.

You’d left your dorm room early this morning, meeting up with Hyunjin due to plans you’d both made the week prior. You always enjoyed talking to Hyunjin. He knew what was important in life, was strong-willed and attentive. He gave you the best advice, even if sometimes you didn’t follow it. Besides Chan he was probably one of your closest friends, as well as a boy named Lee Felix and your dorm mate. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them both, and it makes you a little sad. You feel like you lose grip over the people that’s important to you, and that after a while they’ll have no problem leaving you behind.

You heave a deep sigh to get the thoughts out your mind, wishing the September sun was a little brighter so it could lift your spirits. Your latte is still warm in your hand, and you tap your nails against it as you trudge up the road leading back to campus. Hyunjin had other business in the city so you two went your separate ways after breakfast. It was still early, unfortunately, and you had no idea how you’d spend the rest of your day. It was too cold to do anything really fun, and most of your friends had classes today anyway.

It was obvious when you’d arrived back on campus. If the intricate buildings weren’t enough, the perfectly paved pathways and neatly trimmed hedges were. People carried books with them as they walked, wearing big jackets and hats. It was really getting colder, and it almost saddened you. Another year coming to a close and you were still stuck with the same problems and the same feelings. You waved at people as you passed, recognizing a few familiar faces along the way. Attention fueled you, made you feel that maybe you were more in this world than you thought you were. That maybe things could be different, that you and Chan could walk side by side and all those people that usually follow behind him could follow behind you too.

Heat punches you in the face as soon as you step inside your housing, your feet clicking against the hardwood floors in something that’s become a comfortable routine. Your jacket now feels like it’s too warm, sticking to you and trapping heat inside. You rush up the stairs, by passing the elevator that’s been out of order for weeks now, and hurriedly shove your key in the lock on your door.

When you come in Chan isn’t there, but he could be in any of the other rooms of your dorm. You don’t call out for him, not sure if you want to hear the silence that might come as a reply. You kick your shoes off and hang your jacket on the door, unwrapping your scarf and tossing it on the couch on your way to your bedroom. The door is cracked open and the light is on, and the view brings a smile to your face without your control. You open the door wider and peek in. Chan is sitting on your bed, feet propped up in front of him, book in hand. Chan has always loved to read since the day you first met him in Junior year of high school. You thought that like a typical boy if he was reading at all it’d be a comic, or an action series, but it was a romance. At first it was anything he could get his hands on. He’d read pride and prejudice three times, and then decided to spend all his free time in the library. You always joined him, of course, happy to have a friend who liked the same things as you.

When you gifted him a large set of romance books for his birthday that year you were sure he’d kiss you. He stared at you like he would, before smiling and bringing you close into a hug. He still has every book, and it makes your heart flutter in silly ways. Right now, he’s holding a book out in front of him, reading glasses perched on his nose and a cup of tea on his nightstand. He’s really a sight for sore eyes, lips pursed in frustration or concentration you’re not sure. When reading it could be either. He flips the pages deftly, running over each line with the intention to devour every word, to soak it in with everything he could.

He’s so immersed you’re sure if you spoke he wouldn’t even hear, and if he did he’d only answer when he was done reading the page. You two were the same in that sense. You stepped into the room fully and closed the door behind you, dropping your latte and the coffee you got for Chan on the nightstand next to his tea and then laid flat on your bed with a sigh. Your arms sprawled out beside you, and your chest raised with every breath.

You turned your head to the side to look at Chan and couldn’t help the flush that warmed your cheeks when you met his eyes, him already staring down at you with a fond smile on his face.

“Hi.” You whispered, rolling onto your side to look at him more comfortably.

“Hi,” he murmured, closing his book and pushing it to the side. He rolled onto his side to look at you, moving himself even closer before running a hand down your hair and cradling your neck, running a slow finger across your skin.

“How was your day?”

“I read myself into oblivion while waiting here like a poor housewife for my dear best friend to come back.”

“House husband,” You correct, “And I went to the cafe with Hyun,” you whined, “don’t tease me.”

“I’m serious,” Chan laughed, moving his finger from your neck to slip it under the hem of your shirt and lightly tug it. “I was so lonely and I didn’t call ‘cus I know how much you like hanging out with him.”

You giggle, sitting up and facing him. “Oh yeah? I like hanging with you too, you know.”

“I know. I’d rather argue with you than laugh with anyone else.”

“So what does that say about you?” You scoff, laying back down beside him and trying to ignore the fact that you both have gotten even closer, and each breath that leaves his lips lingers against your skin. You see his lashes flutter under your gaze, yet he doesn’t stop staring intensely at your face.

“That I love you.”

It comes as a whisper, like a confession. But you can’t get your hopes up. You won’t. You pray for some miracle that Chan didn’t hear the hitch in your breath, or the fact that you noticeably flinched at his words, your lashes fluttering closed under his gaze. Your heart beats erratically, thumping against your chest and pounding harshly against your rib cage. If chan moved closer, if he pressed his body fully to yours, you wonder if his heartbeat would match your own.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

Chan holds his phone tightly, a frown etched onto his face. The group chat is blowing up and he can’t stop for a moment to read any of the messages. He weaves between groups of people, waving at most of them as he goes. A lot of people know him, a lot of people admire him. He helps out as many people as he can and makes friends with most, just trying to be a pillar for others— someone other people can look up to and lean on when they need to. That’s something that he’s always wanted to be, who he felt like he needed to be since a young age.

He remembered what you’d had to say about it during your second year and his third, your books spilled over the desk in your bedroom. You had dark circles under your eyes, and you were getting thinner, yet you still managed to smile at him so brightly. As if he was someone that deserved to see such beauty, such love in your gaze.

“So that's the face someone makes when they know everyone’s obsessed with them, huh?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Chan, it’s good, you deserve to be loved.”

Just not in the way he’d like, Chan guesses, frowning at the memory. He still remembers how much it bothered him that he couldn’t do anything more but bring you company during one of your hardest years in college, just having to watch as you worked yourself to the bone. He would’ve taken all your exams if he could, but you would’ve never let him, too content in neglecting yourself rather than letting your friends do the same.

The sun is practically nonexistent this afternoon, hiding behind heavy clouds. It's been raining for the last few days, coating the city in a bleak atmosphere that heavily resonates with him. It almost feels like the lower his mood becomes the dimmer everything around him does too. Sighing, Chan turns around to face the large, grandiose building that’s become the meetup spot for him and his friends.

He skips up the steps, and pushes open the door to the studio, feeling good at the wave of heat that brushes over him. He goes there enough to bypass having to sign in, simply sending a nod the receptionists way and walking to the elevator. Judging by the state of the group chat, Changbin and Jisung are already there. Jeongin might be too, but he knows the younger one is busy with his own workload. It sucks to never have time to see each other anymore, and even though the school year just started he’s hoping to see the end of it sooner rather than later.

When he pushes open the soundproof doors and ambles into the studio, Jisung is on his back in a matter of seconds. As jumpy as ever and unnaturally excitable, he latches on to Chan already asking a million questions. Changbin just laughs where he’s seated in front of the soundboard, messing with the dials and settings until they’re at a level he’s comfortable with.

Chan drops his bag down before plopping onto one of the padded seats in the studio and Jisung wastes no time sitting next to him. Though when he finally stops his chattering a frown etches into his face.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asks, a hand coming to Chan’s shoulder and squeezing lightly, attempting to bring a warmth of comfort.

“Nothing,” Chan laughs, shaking his head.

Changbin has come closer now, either finished with the setup or wondering what’s going on.

“I swear! I’m just having a long day, that’s all.”

“Is it what I think it is?”

“Well what do you think it is?” Chan tenses, eyebrow raised at Changbin where the latter stares down at him.

“Is it this shit with Y/n again?”

“I’m sorry, what? It’s not anything, exactly like I said.”

“We already know when you come in here pouty and upset it’s because of her. Dude, I think you just need to let it go.”

Chan sputters, his eyebrows furrowing more in confusion than anger. “Let what go?”

“These feelings? It’s just hurting you more than helping and maybe you need to realize that this thing between you two isn’t meant to be.”

“Bin-”

“Please, Sung, you’ve said the same thing yourself.”

“What!? So you two have just been talking about me like-”

“No, that’s not it. We’re just worried and it’s translating poorly.”

“You don’t need to be worried, and like I said it’s nothing, so leave it alone.”

“Whatever, man.”

Chan grabs his bag where he's set it down and wraps his jacket around him once again. He hears Jisung call out to him but he can’t work there, not with the hostile energy that’s bouncing around in that studio. The door slams shut behind him and he doesn’t even bother looking back. He bypasses the elevator, instead running down the steps and rushing outside, welcoming the chill of the afternoon air. It cools his heated skin and his angered heart, and gives him the strength to leave the area and walk back where he came.

He sees people he knows on the way but he pretends he doesn’t, not in much of a mood to pretend to be happy to see everyone he meets. His mind is a tornado of thoughts, and his feet move quicker than his mind. When he sees your dorm up ahead he scoffs at himself, at his stupidity, at his dependence on you. He continues anyway, running up the stairs and turning his key into the lock. You’re breaking so many rules for him, allowing him so much freedom in your life, and it just makes the spot he’s carved in his heart for you to deepen.

His mind is frazzled as well as his hair. His chest heaves in frustration. At himself, at his choices, at everything. It seems so difficult for everything to go the way he wants, as if the world makes it so that everything he wants to go his way simply doesn’t. His key is still in the door. He hasn’t pushed it open. He wants to pretend this act he’s got going on isn’t hurting him, pretend that acting like you’re only a friend to him isn’t something that carves pieces in his heart at every moment. His hand trembles at his side, wishing he had yours to hold. Wishing he had your skin to run over and calm him.

He doesn’t know when you’ve become such a comfort to him. Maybe it was when you’d smiled at him for the first time. When you offered him a seat at your lunch table and shared what you didn’t want with him when he asked. Or, perhaps it was when you’d accompany him to the library everyday after school, sitting next to each other and reading whatever books you both could get your hands on. Or, maybe it was when you’d spent your savings from your summer job on a stack of books for his birthday, and it was the first time someone besides his mom had ever gotten him a birthday gift.

Or maybe it happened after all that. When he’d cried in front of you for the first time and you just held him tightly, refusing to let go. Or, perhaps it was when you’d come to his mothers funeral. A sad one, it was, with only four people in attendance. Chan couldn’t afford a casket, couldn’t afford to have a church with a pastor. He didn’t have anything, but he had you holding his hand, rubbing his back as he cried at the loss of all he had left.

Chan didn’t know back then that he’d gained something too.

Let it go? He can’t let it go, because you’re a part of him now too and losing you, losing his love for you, would be like losing a part of himself. Chan pushes the door open, content in how much he’s relaxed in the moments before the door. You’re standing in front of the door when he opens it, a mug in hand and a smile on your face.

“You look like you could use a hug.”

“Yeah,” Chan chokes, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head close to his chest. You slide the mug onto the table beside you so you can pull him even closer, gripping his shirt tightly and positioning yourself so that Chan can lean his head into your neck. His body trembles with the tears that were begging to be let out as he asks in your warmth.

“You know I love you, right? I- I love you so much it hurts me.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, whimpered and muffled as they’re spoken against your skin. “What’s wrong, Channie? Talk to me.”

Chan shakes his head, knocking against your chin. “I can’t. I can't.”

“Yes you can. You can tell me anything.”

“I want a lot of things that I shouldn’t.” Chan whispers, bringing a palm to smooth over your hair. “I think about a lot of things I shouldn’t. Wondering if I could have it.”

“Chan…?”

“You are one of those things.”

You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until you let out a long exhale, your face screwing up with unshed tears as Chan starts to sway your body against his. His palm continues to run along your hair as if it’s anchoring him, giving him the courage to continue.

“For years, I’ve wondered what it would be like to hold you as more than a friend.”

Chan digs his face deeper in the crook of your neck, pressing his nose into your skin, and letting his tears wet your sleeve. His eyes flutter shut and his grip on you tightens. He didn’t plan on confessing to you tonight. He didn’t plan on cradling you close to his chest, feeling your breath against his skin as he poured his heart out, letting you into the one part of his soul he’s shown no one. It’s fitting, he thinks, for you to be the first to know. He’s peeling himself bare, letting you see the pieces of him he’s worked so hard to hide. The parts of him that he’s held so close to his heart, unraveled with a few simple words.

“Everytime I said I love you, I meant it. I meant it with more of me than anyone has ever seen. I’ve meant it with every fiber of my being, and you have a place in my heart no one else could ever have.” Chan releases a shaky breath, chuckling lightly before he continues.

“You’re already the most important person in my life, and I can’t imagine life without you. I wish I could tell you what you are to me.”

Your vision is blurred by tears, and your hands tremble where they grip Chan's shirt. He's so broad, covering you with all of him. He’s all around you, suffocating you with his words and himself. Your lip wobbles, but you muster up all the courage you don’t have, the strength you wish you held, to open up your heart in return.

“I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch, everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you,” you start, your words muffled and your breath jagged.

Chan is quiet, his heart beating faster than what should be humanly possible.

“When I'm near you, in this space, the pause between this breath and the next, you’ve carved a piece of yourself in my heart.”

“…”

“And I’m not afraid to love you— only afraid that my love won’t be enough. If I know what love is, it’s because of you.”

Chan strokes a thumb against your cheek, moving from your neck to lean his forehead down against yours.

“So please love me. As more than a friend, because it’s unbearable to hold you and look at you without being able to call you mine.”

“I’m yours,” Chan murmurs, “for as long as you want me.”

“So forever?” You laugh, but it doesn’t sound much like a laugh, wet and nasally from your tears.

“I really want to kiss you,” Chan whispers, hooking a finger under your chin and pulling you close. His nose brushes against yours and your breaths intermingle, mending with each other.

“Please.”

Your breath is labored as Chan’s lips ghost over yours. His shirt is soft under your fingers and his hand is strong where he grips your waist. Your lips brush, and you realize that this is it, the moment you’ve been wishing for, begging for, since you met him. Since you realized you were in love with him. With his silliness, with his laugh, his smile, his care. Since you realized his genuinity, how determined he was and is to take care of the people around him.

It’s tentative— gentle and soft— but not hesitant. You’re sure of what you want, and what you want is Chan. Your best friend. Your lips move slowly at first, exploring each other, before they press closer, lapping over each other and locking you both against one another. Your body buzzes with warmth, and you wrap your arms around Chan's neck— pulling him impossibly closer as he smiles.

You feel so warm, so happy, the kiss becomes less of a kiss and more of your teeth hitting each other from the force of your smiles. Tears still drip steadily from your cheeks but this time from happiness.

“I like kissing you,” Chan giggles when you both break apart for air, sighing against your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

You leave a kiss full of relief on his lips, salty and wet, moving your mouth against his as he returns it. Slowly, your lips start to press against each other more eagerly, lapping over each other and filling you with warmth.

You find that you’ve fallen.

Truly, madly, and completely.

Fallen for a man that treats you like you’re his saving grace.

For a man who holds you like you’ll disappear without his hands on you.

For a man who’s simple confession made your heart stop momentarily.

You’re in love, and as much as it had been a part of you for all these years, you’re finally letting yourself admit it.

And he, you.

It’s been a few weeks since then, and you’ve been thinking. Every time his lips brush over your skin, when he pulls you up into his lap and kisses you breathless, when he digs his fingers into your hips content to leave marks that last for the next few days, you think about why he stops. You think about why he doesn’t touch you more. After all, now you both finally can.

Chan sits on the couch, your legs swung over his own, and a romance movie plays quietly in the background. You brush his hair from over his forehead, and your nails gently scrape along his skin. Chan hums, the vibrations traveling through your shirt and into your skin.

You feel the happiest you’ve ever been. You feel like maybe this could be what your parents have always had. A love that sticks forever. You want Chan to be your person. You’re so sure that he is.

“Are you tired?” You question, leaning down to get a look at his face. “We can sleep.”

“No, I’m not.” Chan smiles, grabbing your free hand and tugging it close to his face, leaving a kiss on each of your knuckles. His touch lingers against your skin and warmth blooms inside you. He leans forward, leaving a sweet peck on your lips but you lean in, pressing insistently against him. He lets you, opening his mouth and swiping his tongue across your lips.

He runs his thumb across your cheek, gently caressing your skin and everywhere he touches you, it feels like your body is in flames. This something has been building up inside you and now you're not sure how long you'll be able to control yourself. “I trust you, so please.” You plead, nosing against him. His lips feel so soft, so fitting on your mouth, you let out a whimper when he goes further than just a gentle kiss, taking your bottom lip between his properly.

Chan hadn’t even thought about properly responding to you before he was flipping you over, caging you under him and grinding his hips against yours. Your fingers trailed down his skin, running over the fabric of his clothes before tucking inside the waistband of his sweatpants and sliding them down his hips. Chan was gentle. Always gentle. He pulled your shorts down slowly and you sent a nod his way when he asked you if you were sure.

He nosed against your stomach, trailing his fingers against your bare legs and pulling your underwear down with his teeth. A shiver runs through you at the sight, and you grab at his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. “You’re so gorgeous.” He sighed, as if he couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that you were his, that he was yours.

His mouth moves along the sensitive parts of your neck, down the line of your throat, while his other hand separates from your own to run down your waist and touch you where he knows you shiver with need.

He slips his leg between your parted ones, allowing you to settle down right on top of his muscular thigh. As the kiss grows deeper, your hips begin to move, gyrating and pressing down against him. As your bodies move with one another, your pleasure continues to rise, forming from your center and spreading over your body.

You desperately try to avoid bucking your hips upwards into him, but fail again and again. Eventually, Chan drags his mouth away, trailing it down your neck. You’re gasping against him, and you curl into his touch, whimpering when sharp teeth nip at you. There’s a tongue soothing the wound, sucking at the same spot, lapping over it. You can feel yourself starting to shake, whimpering more often than not, before you’re dragging Chan’s face back up into a kiss rt. You can feel Chan smiling into it, chuckling just the tiniest bit, but resume kissing him.

He holds his gaze on yours when you fall apart, relaxing your body while the pulsing of your orgasm courses through you. He leans down into your arms right after, pressing tightly against your chest, so tight that you could feel his heartbeat pacing fast against yours. The kisses he gives you are soft and gentle, your thighs still trembling when he pulls away, pulling his grey t-shirt over his head.

The unmistakable shape of his erection that you feel brushing against your stomach lets you know just how turned on he is, and you equally so. His lips return to yours only after he has stripped himself, and your hands move from his shoulders to his chest, trailing down his naked skin, where you slide your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

You lean forward, taking him into your hand. He’s heavy, full of cum, and you slide your body down so that your mouth is right against his cock. You leave a kitten lick on the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins and the way Chan throbs. He’s a pleasant weight on your tongue and you swirl it around the tip before sucking him into your mouth.

Still with your eyes on his face, you lean closer, kissing his sensitive tip before fitting your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth again. You hear him gasp before it turns into a deep groan, sucking and licking as you take him deeper.

Chan sighs, every time you inch down onto him you can feel his skin against your nose and hear the spit fucking back in your throat. Your eyes lose focus as Chan continues to rut into you, and your body buzzes from the sensation. You feel hot all over, allowing him to use you the way he wants. His low growl vibrates down to your core and you resist the urge to reach down and stroke your fingers to search for your own pleasure, choosing to focus on pleasing him instead.

His lips fall open with a few deep grunts escaping his soft lips, his hips moving faster as he pumps himself into your mouth. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

"You are so beautiful," he sighs, his thumb brushes back and forth over your cheek, relishing the way your body leans into his touch. "You have no idea how many times I wished I could take you like this."

He traces down your panties, soaked with your arousal, running over the lace and moaning at the feeling of it clinging into your clit. His thumb follows the wet trail on the flimsy fabric to find your opening, hardly shielding you from his touch. He twists his hand while he continues to press his thumb in circles over your covered entrance, his fingers find your clit, and then he pinches, hard, sending you over the edge a second time and into one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had.

You squirm at the feeling of your release, his fingers slowly peeling the scrap of black lace down your thighs, making a show out of it while he makes you wait. He continues to tease you, staring you down as you slip your feet from them and he pulls them off. His eyes roam over your body, inhaling deeply, breathing you in. His lashes flutter, and the view of him taking you in so shamelessly makes you shudder.

He drops the fabric in the next moment, looming over you with hooded eyes, and leans down to leave a lingering kiss on your lips. He continues to kiss you as he spreads your legs apart, holding them down with heavy hands. His lips find your hips, then he moves down, running his tongue down your legs, taking time to trail along your thighs, your calves, your ankles, and keeping his eyes on you the whole time.

You let out a gasp at the first stroke of his tongue over your clit. Your legs lift a little, but Chan presses them back down, keeping you in place— keeping you right where he wants you.

You run a shaky hand through his hair as you cry out at the feeling of his tongue resuming its ministrations on your throbbing core. You can’t do much but moan and sigh, an incoherent mess from Chan’s mouth. It’s funny to you, how you started this but he has you shaking from under him, building you up and then breaking you down with immense pleasure— a feeling that you can barely think around.

You hear his soft chuckle as he gives you a few more kisses with his tongue, tasting you, before he looks up again and whispers, “Does that feel good?” He teases, unrelenting in showing you just how determined he is to make good of his words. His grip tightens on your thighs, as the swipes of his tongue grow more intensely. He sucks at your clit, pressing his tongue against you to send you into your second orgasm.

Your hips move desperately against his face, hopeless in your need for more. Chasing pleasure with each roll of your hips and his head buried in your heat. You spasm, shaking in pleasure as you cum, soaking his tongue with your release and closing him in with your thighs. He doesn’t stop, sucking your clit in his mouth and using his tongue to lap up every bit of your orgasm. You cry out in protest, your body squirming away from his touch as instinct but the grip on your thighs doesn’t let up.

“Chan please, oh god.”

His chest shakes with a chuckle, rising up and slotting himself between your thighs. You want him, more than anything, no matter what. He kisses the corner of your lips, smiling against your mouth. “I love you,” he sighs, and a smile crosses your face.

“I love you too.”

As he continues to litter kisses against your skin, he presses his cock against your clit, rubbing his hard length against you, coating himself with your arousal. The next time he pulls himself back from you, he only does it briefly— and when he pushes himself back it’s with a thrust into you hard and fast, nearly bringing you to another orgasm despite you just coming down from your previous one.

Your thoughts leave you as he continues to move in and out of you, filling you up and satisfying you the way he always does, but you manage to speak without realizing. “You make me so happy,” You whimper, and your walls contract as he slams into you deeper, lifting your legs and situating them against his shoulders. He buries himself so deep inside it’s almost like he’s melded himself into you. He’s so big, you can barely breathe, allowing him to bring pleasure to you both as he moves.

“Shit, Y/n.”

Even this moment feels too good to be true. To have him rocking against you, pulling you closer than anyone ever has. It feels like a dream.

Your words become nothing but a moan when his thrusts don’t falter and instead pick up. You don’t know how he’s managing to keep going, how he’s managed to move even quicker.

"Come on, baby," he whispers, clenching his jaw, letting you know that he’s on the brink of orgasm. Chan bends down, taking your lip into his mouth, making you sigh in bliss. Then his fingers come down to find your clit, sending you erupting into another orgasm.

The next thing you know Chan is groaning above you, his body going lax against you and his cum shooting into you forcefully, making you clench harder around him. Chan whimpers as he continues to cum, again and again, releasing into you and painting your walls.

“Oh Channie,” you sigh, “does it feel good?”

Chan nods, his hair brushing against your naked skin, and he presses a soft kiss against your collarbone. His lips rest there as you both come down from your high, basking in the glow of your orgasms and relishing in the presence of each other.

He pulls out of you, dragging his tip against your skin before littering kisses against your face. Small pecks that tickle with the gentle force of them, and you giggle, running a hand through his soft locks.

Your chest heaves with the force of your breaths but otherwise your body feels light, airy, and any negative thought you’d entertained before is completely gone. You didn’t need this to prove that he’s yours, to feel comfortable, but he’s shown you that he wants every part of you, and it fills you with an undeniable warmth.

“How is it that you’re this cute even after all this?” Chan murmurs.

“Shut up.”

You trace your fingers against his skin, tracking his breathing and basking in his warmth. Your fingers slide through the grooves in his abs, tracing shapes over his collarbone, and tweaking his nipple just for Chan’s barking of a laugh when he shoves you away saying that it tickles. You lean your forehead down so that it’s resting just near Chan’s armpit, hairless like usual, and inhale— breathing in his scent, his proximity, him. He's perfect, and he’s yours, no matter what.

You’ve always wished for the closeness and transparency of a trusting relationship— have always wondered if you’d be able to get that, if you’d be able to keep it— and Chan is proof that you have. It feels good to know that there are no secrets, no doubts or worries, and that there can only be acceptance between the both of you. A secureness that would be hard to find anywhere else. It fills you with butterflies, as if you and Chan had just started dating, —and though you have, you’ve been best friends for years— but it makes you incredibly happy to know that those feelings will remain, and you can only hope it'll stay that way forever and always.

When Chan runs his hand down your back, reaching below the covers to squeeze your ass, you huff, poking him in the chest as a warning. Yet you know, and Chan knows, that it makes you happy that you have this. A home, a loving boyfriend who loves you just as much as you love him, and a trusting relationship.

Chan likes this familiarity. Laying down with you, bare emotionally and physically, and unworried about being judged or ridiculed. It feels good, it satisfies him more than he ever thought it could, and makes a comfortable, warm, feeling bloom in his chest. He’s happy, he’s loved, and he inhales— taking in the scent of you, your proximity, your love, and he smiles.

6 years later

Fire crackles in the fireplace of your childhood home, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air and filling your nose with delectable goodness. It’s warm, yet the sweater you adorn only feels even more comforting— though the hand around your waist feels even more so.

In the kitchen your parents chatter with your other family members and with your friends, and in the background a christmas movie plays. A christmas tree stands tall in the living room, ornaments dangle from the branches and twinkle with the small gusts of wind from the heater. Stockings line the fireplace and pictures of you and your family decorate every surface around the house. Pictures of chan, too. Him as a child, you both as teenagers, pictures of you on the first day of college, on the day you graduated, at your first job, a picture of you both carrying keys to your first apartment, and a picture of you both under the altar.

The warm, fuzzy feeling that you first had when you and Chan had started dating has yet to disappear even after all these years. It’s still there every time you look at him, every time you hold his hand, every time he kisses you. You nuzzle into his chest and sway. There’s no song playing, only the sounds of the tv and your loved ones, but still you sway together.

The picture of romance you thought you’d never achieve, yet it’s so much more than that. It’s a completeness that fills your heart, a happiness that doesn’t go away even on your worst days, and the comfort of knowing that someone will be there after a long day— there to hold you and whisper their love to you. You’ve been surrounded by love all your life, but this love is something you never thought you’d have. You’d envied your parents for the fact that they’d achieved it, but now that you know what it feels like you can only be happy at the fact that they’d been so lucky. That you’re so lucky.

So, when did you fall in love?

You think you could most likely tie it back to when Chan first laid a kiss on your skin, cheeks flushed and eyes red with tears. Or, perhaps it was when he’d confessed his love to you, waxing poetic about the feelings that you thought were only yours to hold. Or, maybe it was when he took you into his arms for the first time, holding you with care and treating you as if you were something to be treasured.

Maybe it was before all of this. Maybe you still aren’t really in love, but the way your heart beats when he’s around, when he smooths his hands over your shoulders and tucks his head under your chin, or the way unshed tears brim at your eyes when you look at the ring on your finger, makes you think that maybe you’re in something much deeper than that.

a/n: 😭😭 as always i hope you all enjoyed and tysmm for reading <33 ily

mini taglist: ily all sm <;33 @itsisa @myjisung @raspbinniecreme @ughbehavior & @svintsandghosts (i can’t remember if u asked or not <33)

#chan imagines #chan smut #bangchan smut #bangchan scenarios #bangchan imagines #bang chan #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #chan x reader

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dyk3medown · 1 year

Note

hii, if ur comfortable with it, could you write a fic of eddie x fem!reader with any plot but to include

- sadism & masochism

- pain kink

- degradation & praise

- exhibitionism

so sorry if this is a burden to you i just rlly love ur work lol ❤️

danger zone

eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie’s knife against your throat should scare you, but your reaction couldn't be further from fear

warnings: fem reader, smut, slightly dark!eddie, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation + praise, knife play, choking, very bad bdsm etiquette, sort of autassassinophilia but to a very minor extent

a/n: this has been almost finished in my drafts for months, I'm so sorry it took so fucking long lol. unfortunately i didn't fit the exhibitionism in but i hope you enjoy anyways!!

smut under the cut <3

Eddie Munson is not a murderer.

Your mind races as you sit in Steve's car on the way to Reefer Rick's house, Eddie's supposed hideout.

He can't be… right?

You and Eddie knew each other reasonably well, though to call you friends would be a bit of a stretch. Your interactions were mostly composed of short conversations and a quick smile here and there when you passed by in the halls.

You found yourself oddly fascinated with him, and it didn't help that he made you weak in the knees every time you saw him, embarrassingly attracted to every little detail. The first time he had given you a tour of his tattoos, you had almost passed out, the sight of him pulling up his shirt enough to make you light-headed.

Contrary to his reputation, he was really a sweet guy, and you couldn't imagine him hurting someone, let alone killing them.

The car pulls up to a rather run-down house next to the lake, and you take a deep breath before climbing out of the vehicle, following your friends as they search for Eddie.

"Eddie! It's Dustin!" Dustin calls out as you enter a boathouse that's clearly seen better days. "Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear. We just wanna help."

You look around, but much like the main house you checked first, it seems empty. "I guess he's not here, guys."

You hear a slight sound of movement, and then Eddie has you up against the wall before you can even think about reacting, the jagged edge of a broken bottle pressing against your throat as his leg slots between yours. He pins your arms above your head, both wrists held in the hand not holding the makeshift weapon.

You gasp, a noise that's only partially from surprise and sounds more like a moan. With their view of you blocked by his body, your friends are unable to see how you arch unconsciously toward Eddie, pressing forward against him.

As soon as you realize what you're doing, you slam back against the wall, praying that Eddie somehow missed what happened.

Something flickers in Eddie's gaze as you lock eyes, a look of lust that's gone so quickly you're not sure if you imagined it.

You're distantly aware of your friends shouting for Eddie to stop, but the only sounds you can focus on are his ragged breathing and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Eddie's eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly as he moves even closer, the glass digging into your throat as his thigh presses between yours.

You whimper at the feeling, desperately hoping that the others think it's a sound of fear. Trying to keep your breathing shallow, you are keenly aware that with one wrong move, the bottle could draw blood.

Any doubts Eddie might have had about how you were feeling are pushed away as he takes in your reaction, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Steve, put down the oar."

Eddie's head turns to look at Dustin, who is trying his best to talk Eddie down, while Steve slowly lowers the oar he had approached you two with.

After a few long moments, Eddie pulls the bottle back, still aimed at your throat but no longer touching your skin. You're hyper-aware of Eddie's thigh still positioned between your legs, shifting slightly underneath you as he talks with the group. Much to your shame, you can feel yourself getting wet, growing increasingly paranoid that Eddie will somehow be able to tell. You inhale sharply as he pushes against you at just the right angle, your hips bucking involuntarily.

You know you shouldn't be so turned on by a threat to your life, but your body seems unaware of that.

Eddie's attention snaps back to you, giving you a knowing look before dropping your wrists and stepping back. You just barely manage not to collapse when he moves away, your knees buckling as Robin rushes up to you. You lean on her for support, your heart still racing as you find somewhere to sit.

You zone out for most of the conversation, listening to Eddie's account of the night of Chrissy's death and then bit and pieces of the explanation of the upside down. You can't help but stare at Eddie, glancing back at him almost immediately every time you force yourself to look elsewhere. Eddie can't seem to keep his eyes off you either, gaze wandering over to you every so often.

You're fully aware of how fucked up it is that your focus is on him during a conversation about a girl's death, but you can't help the less-than-innocent thoughts that keep rising to the surface.

Eventually, after some more conversation, the others agree to go on a supply run, but Dustin insists that someone stay with Eddie just in case.

"I can stay!" You volunteer, internally cringing at how enthusiastic you sound.

"Are you sure? He was a little stabby with you," Robin mimes stabbing someone with a knife.

"It's fine," you assure her, looking over at Eddie.

"I'll be on my best behavior, scout's honor." Eddie holds up three fingers, a wry grin on his face.

"Yeah, alright, fine." Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave, the rest of the group following behind him.

As you hear the car driving away, you're able to stop pretending like you're focusing on anything but Eddie.

"So uh," you stammer nervously as you stand, trying to think of something to say.

"So uh," Eddie mimics mockingly. "What was all that?"

Your eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

"Don't think I didn't notice the way you were acting earlier." Eddie says, a smirk growing on his face.

You feign nonchalance, pretending to examine your nails. "I don't know what you're taking about."

"Don't play dumb, princess," Eddie's voice lowers, taking on a dark tone that makes you shiver. "Did it turn you on when I pinned you up against the wall? Huh? Did I make you wet when I held that bottle to your pretty little throat?"

Your heart jumps in your throat at his words, and you can't deny the way they're affecting you, a wave of heat going through your body.

"Stop it." Your voice wavers as he stalks towards you. You stumble backward, finding yourself once again with your back against the dark wood of the boathouse.

"Why so shy?" The smirk on Eddie's face turns into a feral grin. "You were so eager before, fucking rutting against my thigh in front of all your friends."

Your chest tightens with a mix of panic and excitement as he invades your space, only a few inches separating you now.

You turn your head to the side to avoid his piercing gaze, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

"Look at me."

You keep your eyes closed, breath coming in short pants.

"I said, look at me." Eddie grabs your jaw and forces you to face him, your eyes flying open in surprise at the spark of pain that comes with his tight grip.

He takes his hand back and pulls something out of his pocket, flicking it open. He holds it up for you to see, and your breath hitches as a switchblade glints in the light, lips parting in a surprised little oh.

"I think you deserve better than some broken glass, baby," Eddie says as he lifts it to your neck, just barely brushing your skin.

"Eddie," you whimper, "please."

You're not sure if you're asking him to stop or keep going, but Eddie takes it as the latter.

"Don't worry, princess, I'll give you what you need."

Eddie tilts your chin up with the blade's tip, barely brushing his lips against yours.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you grip onto his shirt and pull him into a bruising kiss. He remains still for a moment, clearly surprised by your sudden movement, but quickly begins to kiss you back. There's little finesse in the way his lips move against yours, all technique forgotten in favor of the way he's devouring you.

You whimper as Eddie bites your lip hard enough to draw blood. He swipes his tongue over the wound and groans, grinding his hips forward against you. You can feel how hard he is in his jeans, clearly enjoying this just as much as you.

The knife travels down to the neckline of your shirt, and you gasp as Eddie slices it open, leaving it hanging loosely from your shoulders.

He takes advantage of the newly exposed skin, grabbing onto your chest roughly. Before you can protest, he cuts through your bra as well, stepping back enough to tug the remnants of your clothing down your arms.

Eddie's hands cup your breasts softly as he looks at you almost reverently, a brief moment of gentleness that's quickly gone as the hunger overtakes his gaze.

"God, who knew you'd have such pretty fucking tits?" Eddie tweaks a nipple harshly, chuckling when you cry out. "You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?"

"Uh huh," you manage to get out, so overwhelmed by what's happening that you're struggling to speak.

One of Eddie's hands trails down to the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning them and unceremoniously shoving his way inside.

"Eddie!" Your back arches as he roughly plunges two fingers inside of you. It's too much all at once, and there's a sharp sting of pain with the pleasure despite how wet you've gotten.

"Fuck, you're dripping baby." Eddie's thumb rolls over your clit, and you spasm around his fingers. "You tried to act all innocent but I knew, god I knew you were just gagging for it."

You reach down and push your remaining clothing down your hips, leaving you completely naked. Hand now unrestricted, Eddie takes full advantage of the new range of motion, fingers thrusting deeper until you can feel the cool metal of his rings trying to push into you.

Eddie suddenly pulls away, leaving you gasping for air. "Get on the table."

You look to see a dusty old table sitting in the corner of the room. "I-"

Eddie cuts you off. "That wasn't a request, (Y/N)."

The look in his eyes leaves no room for protest, and you scramble over to the table. You feel like you should be embarrassed that you're letting him order you around so easily, but the only thing that goes through your mind with every command is yes. Eddie is close behind you and pushes you down the second you reach it, bending you in half over the dusty surface.

"Don't move."

You follow Eddie's instruction, keeping your arms and chest still against the table. You can hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt and a zipper being pulled down, your breath hitching in anticipation.

Eddie wrenches both of your arms behind your back and wraps the belt around your wrists, the soft, worn leather biting with how tightly he binds them. Your shoulders are already starting to ache from the position, and you struggle slightly, trying to get more comfortable. A harsh slap to your ass makes you freeze and cry out.

"I thought I told you not to move," He mocks. "You aren't very good at following instructions, are you, sweetheart?"

"Eddie, please," you whine as you fight to keep yourself still.

"Be a good girl for me," Eddie lines himself up and just barely presses the head of his cock into you, "and beg for it."

Desperation taking over, you have no trouble swallowing your pride and giving him what he wants. "Please, Eddie, please fuck me!"

You muffle a scream as Eddie slams into you in one harsh thrust, wasting no time in setting a brutal pace. With no real prep, the way he's stretching you out is borderline painful, but somehow that makes it even better. You can feel every inch of him so intensely as he fucks into you, splitting you open on his cock.

He grabs your bound wrists and uses them to pull you up, causing you to arch off of the table. The switchblade is in his hand again, and he brings it to rest gently against the base of your throat as he thrusts into you roughly.

"Stay just like that, princess, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

He presses the blade just a little harder into your skin, and you whimper as you clench around him, unable to control your reaction.

"God, you're fucking filthy," Eddie moans. "Getting off to me holding a knife to your throat."

You want to hate it, to mentally distance yourself from the depraved acts you're committing, but the ever-present danger of the situation is making you wetter than you've ever been before. Eddie is clearly just as into it as you are, a constant string of moans and curses coming from behind you.

He pulls out suddenly and lets you drop back onto the table as he takes a moment to free your hands, leaving you confused and wanting him back inside you immediately. "Eddie?"

You start to push yourself up with shaking arms, but before you can fully stand, Eddie manhandles you over onto your back, lining himself up again before pushing into you with the same force as before.

"Oh, fuck." You practically sob as he angles his hips up slightly to hit the perfect spot, a new wave of pleasure making you spasm around him.

Eddie leans down, and your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you sloppily, cracking open again when you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

"Eddie!" Your eyes roll back as he slowly increases the pressure, limiting your air supply and suppressing your voice.

"Knew you'd like that. You just want to be good for me, don't you, princess? You'll do whatever I want."

You don't even try to deny it, nodding your head the best you can with your neck restrained. Eddie groans as you put your hand on top of his, encouraging him to push down harder, hips stuttering for a moment before falling back into rhythm.

"So fucking perfect for me." With how tight his grip is, you're quickly growing light-headed, and you're sure there'll be bruises left as remnants of his touch when you're done. "Take it so well."

Eddie's free hand snakes down your body to rub at your clit as his hips snap into yours even harder. At this point, you're sure you'll be walking funny for days, remembering the savage way he took you every time you sit down.

The knot in your stomach tightens as you feel yourself getting close, eyes fluttering closed as the feelings threaten to completely overwhelm you.

"You gonna cum?" Eddie looks down at you, the ever-present hunger gleaming in his eyes. "C'mon baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock."

"Eddie!" His name is the only thing you can say as your back arches, vision going white for a moment as the most intense pleasure you've ever experienced wracks your body.

Eddie's thrusts turn frantic as he desperately chases his release, pounding into you with no consideration for your comfort. You can only lay there and take it, blissed-out and practically boneless as you come down from your high.

Hips stuttering, Eddie comes with a choked-out groan of your name, and you moan softly as he spills inside of you. Eddie leans down to kiss you softly, almost tenderly, a stark contrast to the rough treatment that already has you aching in the best way. He pulls away, and you suppress a whimper as he slips out of you, oversensitivity making you wince. He tucks himself back into his pants, and you suddenly feel very exposed, completely naked, while Eddie is now fully clothed. You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest and hunching over slightly.

"Here." Eddie strips off his shirt and hands it to you.

"Thanks." You take it gratefully, slipping it over your head.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, just looking at each other in the fading light streaming through the windows.

"Eddie, I-" You're cut off by the door creaking open, your head snapping towards the sound to watch in horror as your friends make their way in, momentarily unaware of the situation in front of them.

Steve stops in his tracks as he looks around, gaze flickering from Eddie's shirtless body, to his shirt on your body, to your clothes strewn across the floor.

"What the fuck?"

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