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#like i just wanna do my boy justice
sorathemischievous · 2 months
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I have succumbed to the whims of my sonic hyperfixation, here are doodles of my favorite sewerrat drummerboy who would be a terrible king
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fuckin-sick-bih · 1 year
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"Just" Allergies
Fandom: Stranger Things (I guess Eddie Lives AU?) Summary: The pollen count is high, Eddie forgot his allergy meds, but he just feels... especially bad for some reason. Steve thinks he's caught a spring cold on top of the pollen flare. (Steve lowkey has the kink) CW: Mess Word Count: 2.7k (I tried to keep it short okay? I did...) MINORS DNI
Make sure you take your allergy meds today, kid. News said pollen is high.
Wayne had even reminded him and Eddie, like the damn fool he was, had still forgotten. Now he was paying the price. Even sitting in the stuffy theater, Eddie still felt like his eyes were itchy and swollen and the persistent tickle from his consistently leaking nose was torturous. And his throat felt like something was scratching it. Rubbed by sandpaper and just uncomfortable. Especially torturous while trying to run his campaign.
He brought his hand up to rub subtly at his dripping nose with a sniff, metal rings on his left hand scraping roughly against the rims of his nostrils. His abused nose was bright pink from the day of just such repeated actions but not a single member dared comment least Eddie unfurl his wrath upon them.
Right now, he wanted nothing more than to go home, pop some allergy meds, shower, and maybe  fall asleep watching some movie on the couch. Either that or fall asleep to the radio.
After the whole… Upside Down, Eddie couldn’t do silence anymore. It suffocated him.
A voice started to filter into his congested brain, “Eddie? Eddie!? Earth to Eddie!”
Of course, it was Dustin…
Eddie sniffed thickly and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yes, oh Gurdis, our folk hero wizard?” he asked dramatically with an attempt at a smile for the freshie. Said smile flickered as the tickle in his sinuses began to work its way down.
“It’s just… we’ve been trying to ask if you wanted to call it here for the night, but you didn’t seem to hear us… You’ve been pretty distracted today. Is everything okay?” Henderson asked softly and Eddie felt his body tense.
Was he that obvious? “I’m f-ihhh” His breathing hitched, and Eddie sat up from where he’d been resting his chin on his hand behind his dungeon master screen. His chest expanding and deflating a few times as he held up a finger to indicate ‘one second’.
“Hiih- ihh! IxXG’HT!” He pinched his nose between his pointer finger and thumb of his opposite hand. “Ugh fuck…” There was pressure mounting in his head with every one of those stifled sneezes he’d done today.
As he turned to look at the rest of the Hellfire club, Eddie saw concerned faces and he pouted slightly. “I’m fine.” He said grumpily and rubbed roughly at his nose again with his ringed fingers. “Just allergies.” Another, thick sniffle punctuated his statement before he continued. “Fine, I guess we’ll wrap up here and continue next time.”
More concerned faces exchanged looks. Eddie never ended Hellfire early. Never. Really, Eddie was starting to feel like utter shit. His nose was running like a faucet now and Eddie really just needed to go home. “I’ll see you guys later.” He began to pack up his things, fumbling slightly in his rush to get moving and get home.
Everyone began to disperse except for the runts it seemed. They only came closer as Eddie was shoving things into his bag at top speed, wrist pressed up against his nose to try and stem the stream. Sniffling could only do so much for him now.
“Eddie? Do you need anything?” Mike asked softly and adjusted his bag on his shoulder, making Eddie stall as he glanced at the kids.
“Yeah, we can bike to the store and drop some things off if-” Dustin started only for Eddie to promptly cut them off before Lucas could join in.
Eddie jerked the zipper closed on his own bag and threw his bag over his shoulder, wincing ever so slightly as it pulled at the still tender and pink scars on his middle. “You runts are cute, but I don’t need anything other than like… a handful of Benadryl, a shower, and a bed.” He joked, ruffling Dustin’s curls much to the younger boy’s distain. “Don’t worry about me, kids. I’ll survive. I always do.”  
It came out more… hollow than Eddie had intended for it to, but he still turned on his heel and left with a wave. “See you freaks Monday!” He called, fighting the urge to cough after the yell.
It wasn’t until he got into his van with a shiver that he thought… That can’t be normal. Shivering and coughing weren’t part of his usual allergy routine. Speaking of allergy routine…
“Ehh- IGH’XTSh! Hah! k’HXXt! Ehh…eh? EPT’SHZXXGHT!  Fugk m’be!” Eddie shouted in utter frustration and despair, slamming the steering wheel with his open palm. He felt like garbage.
Garbage left to rot under the hot sun. Fuck maybe he was warm… The walk from school to van had been a swim through the pollen, but this didn’t even feel like just allergies anymore. He wanted to just lean his head back and cry, but he held back, started the van, cranked the heat, and pulled out of the school parking lot.
When he arrived home, Eddie dragged himself from his van to head inside. Wayne was already out for the night and Eddie had the place to himself, thank god. He was fumbling through the medicine cabinet when a knock at the door startled him and had him dropping the pill bottles in his arms. “Jesus!” He swore loudly, coughing into his elbow afterwards.
Once the pill bottles were set back on the sink’s edge, Eddie went to go see who was at the door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with his wrist, rubbing said wrist against his jeans afterwards. “Hello?” he said, cracking open the door to find none other than Steve Harrington.
“Hey, Eddie, uh- hope this isn’t too weird. Dustin radioed to say you were acting… weird and to bring you some stuff and check on you.” Steve admitted and tilted his head a little as he took in Eddie’s complexion. “You look like shit.”
Eddie let the door swing the rest of the way open and stepped back to invite Steve in. “Wow you really kdow how to charb a guy, Harri’gtod.” He said, cringing at the sound of his own voice.
Steve gave him a genuine smile after that, “Well, I’ve been known to flirt.” He teases but does reach out to grab Eddie’s arm after he’s closed and locked the door. “Talk to me.” His voice is quiet as he directs Eddie to the couch to sit with him.
If Eddie were a stronger man, maybe he wouldn’t have teared up and started crying in front of his crush but god he felt so fucking awful… He falls face first into Steve’s chest and outright sobs.
Steve drops the bag of goodies on the floor to lean forward and wrap his arms around Eddie to comfort him. The crying does nothing to help his congestion and Eddie has to fish the bandana out of his back pocket to blow his nose before he can even attempt talking to Steve.
“Nose won’t stop running, feel so fucking congested though… eyes are itchy and swollen…” Eddie pauses to wipe his nose with the bandana again, sniffling some more as his nostrils twitch. There’s a tickle starting to build and he’s trying to ignore it. “Throat’s sore… not just like itchy but real sore… Makes me cough. A-And I can’t s-stop sn-heeh… eh- ehh-! EhhXXGHT! N’GHXT! XXGHT!” His fingers shot up to pinch his nose to make sure he didn’t sneeze on Steve. “That.” He sniffed.
A frown crossed Steve’s features and he feels Eddie’s forehead with the back of his hand as well as his palm. “You’re maybe a little warm. Think you picked up something and got stuck with early spring allergies, man. That sucks…”
Eddie sniffled thickly and tried to clear his throat without starting a coughing fit. “Fuck. That’s just m’by luck…” His congestion was already starting to return before his hand shot up to pinch his nose without warning. “Ihh’GXHT! Fuck!” He swore and snuffled back some of the mess threatening to slip from his nose.
As Eddie looked up at Steve, he noticed a blush darkening over his features. He wriggled his nose to try and keep the tickle at bay for another few minutes and sniffed. “What’s with the blush, Harri’gtod?” He questioned with and cleared his throat again, raising a suspicious brow at the other.
“What?” Steve choked out, trying his best to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Nothing. I’m not blushing. Just worried about you. Shut up.” He insisted and went fishing in the bag for a fresh box of tissues, tearing it open to pull some out before handing them to the darker haired man. “Here. Blow. You can’t even say my name right.” He teased.
This time it was Eddie’s turn to blush, and he snatched the tissues from Steve to valiantly blow his nose into them. He grimaced and wiped his nose, nostrils twitching and flaring as the tickle was fanned into a flame from the blowing.
“Ihhuh… Ih-hih-!” Eddie fumbled desperately for new tissues and felt Steve pressing some into his hands. He immediately collapsed into them with unstifled, gut wrenching sneezes. “HiiiIGSHEW! IISHXEW! Eh… EhhT’XHSEW! Oh fuck- ow…” Both of his arms wrapped around his middle protectively as the scars ached from his sudden jarring movements.
“Bless you,” Steve whispered softly, frowning with worry as he moved forward to gently take Eddie’s arms. “Hey, hey.. what’s wrong, Eds?” Anxiety threaded it’s way through Steve’s tone like a tightly laced boot.
Eddie shook his head and pressed his wrist to his leaky nose again, rubbing his nose against his wrist which he held still. “Guh… s’dothi’g…” He tries to insist.  “Just the bite scars. They’re still te’der sobetibes.”
Something more than concern crosses Steve’s features and Eddie finds himself being pulled into a gentle hug. He tries to push Steve off him and the other quickly lets go.
“What? What?” Steve asked urgently. “What’s wrong?”
With a laugh that turned into a dry cough, Eddie shook his head. “Dod’t do that. You’re godda get sigk too, du’bass.” He teases Steve and snuffles once again before rubbing at his nose with his rings again, eyes fluttering as his nostrils flared. “Argh… Fugks sagke… fugki’g allergies baki’g everythi’g idtchy… Iihh’pxxght! Ugh… Sorry sduck out.”
Steve only rolled his eyes and yanked Eddie back into a hug, trapping his arms so he couldn’t rub his nose anymore. “I won’t get sick. Hanging out with those kids has like- totally boosted my immune system.”
Again, Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve. “That… sou’ds like total bullshit.” He sniffled thick and gurgling, feeling Steve squirm in the hug as he smirked at him. “Add you sure are a squirber. You sure everythi’g is okay? Oh, shit you’re dot like- a gerbaphobe or sobethi’g are you? Fuck, I’b sorry!” He starts to scramble backwards, falling with a thud off the couch and onto the floor before Steve can catch him.
“No no, Eddie! Relax!” Steve insisted, shaking his head some. “I’m fine. Seriously. It’s cool. Not a germaphobe. Sniffle, sneeze, cough, all you want. It’s- it’s fine.” But his face was coloring up a bright tomato red and Eddie knew something was up. Though he still accepted the hand which helped pull him back up onto the couch.
“Sure, whatever, Harri’gtod. Just dod’t yell at m’be whed you get sick.” Eddie sniffled again and groaned, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch to wrap up in.
Steve smiled a little and pulled the blanket up over his head to really cocoon him in. “Chilly? You got a hot water bottle? I can fill it up for you?” He offered but Eddie just shook his head some.
“N’do, it popped last year whed I was curled up arou’d it with that flu that went around. Did you get that?” Eddie explains and continues to rub his nose with his hand, rings still abusing his poor red nose despite the freshly opened box of tissues right there.
Thankfully, Steve plucked him a few tissues and pressed them into Eddie’s hands. “Ugh, I did. That was awful. I was stuck in bed for a week. Ended up with a pretty bad sinus infection actually.” He recalls for Eddie and adjusts the blanket for him to keep him all tucked in and cozy. “Anyway, you need meds. I brought meds.”
Eddie blew his nose into the tissues Steve had pressed into his hands and swiped at his leaking nose some more. The blowing caused the tickle to resurge with a vengeance, “Hiihh- Eh? EH-! EhhGXXtsh! Hiii’tGXHTsh! Ngh… uh? Huh… Fugk… HEPT’SHHXXGuh!” A flurry of failed attempts at stifling.
A few more tissues were grabbed before Eddie could question Steve. “Huh? Beds?” He questioned, not quite following until he saw Steve pulling allergy and cold medication from the bag he’d brought with him. “Shit. Stevie, you didd’t have to get all that… I have sobe stuff…”
“Is it still in date?” Steve challenged with a knowing smile, having peeked into the Munson medicine cabinet once before when looking for pain pills for his own demo-bat bites. Not a damn thing in there was still in date.
A soft grumble left the curly haired man, and he shuffled around to rest his head against Steve’s shoulder instead. Steve got him out some allergy medicine first while Eddie pointedly rubbed at his itchy eyes. “Stop that. You’ll make it worse.”
“Itches.” Eddie complained petulantly.
“I know, but this will help. I’ll maybe get you a washcloth to help if you’re good and take your meds.” Steve bargained to which Eddie huffed through his mouth and accepted the allergy pills. “Didn’t know what all to get you. Dustin just said you were sneezy and looked like crap.”
The sniffly Munson managed a chuckle and wriggled his nose at the mention of being sneezy. “Yeah. S’true. I get sdeezy whed I’b sick too… so polled plus cold is just ode fucked up Eddie.” He sniffled, mostly for dramatic effect but it sounded far soupier than he intended, and he grimaced. “Guh..”
Steve seemed to shift in his seat, eyes locked onto Eddie, but he did make a noise of sympathy. “Damn, Eds. I’m sorry. You must feel like shit… and here I am stalling.” He shook his head and got out a dose of cold medicine, a syrup this time.
The sight of the cup of syrup made Eddie wrinkle his nose and whine, “Are you fucki’g serious?” He complained with another sniffle and a rub at his nose with his knuckles, red nostrils starting to twitch again. “I’b dot swallowi’g that.”
“Yes. You are.” Steve said matter-of-factly and held the cup close to Eddie’s lips, making him pull his chin in and mouth away from the cup.
“N’do way- n’dope…” Eddie mumbles but his breathing starts to hitch, his mouth falling open, and Steve takes the opportunity to tip the syrup into his mouth. The surprise taste of the syrup only seems to make his nose tickle worse.
He does the only thing he can think and covers his face with his hands as he pitches forwards with sneezes. “HiiXXTSH! EIXXTHUE! Ihh.. eh-! … IiiHXXTSHhuh!” Eddie groans softly at the mess he can feel on his hands, having flung them up so as not to sneeze on Steve. “You’re a bodster, Harri’gtod… ugh… tissues?”
Steve seems to swallow hard, his face scarlet once again, before he fumbled for the tissues. He plucked out several which he gently pressed into Eddie’s face and hands. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”
“I’b dot!” Eddie says indignantly.
The blonde just laughs and tucks Eddie back into the blanket again, letting him clean himself up. “Sure, Eds.” Steve says as he grabs the TV remote to put something on for them to watch, thankfully keeping the volume low.
It was only ten minutes later that Eddie was fast asleep with his head in Steve’s lap while they watched Wheel of Fortune. Steve’s fingers idly playing with Eddie’s soft curls as Eddie’s stuffy snores filled any of the lulls in noise from the TV. Like a comforting background hum. And soon Steve was out like a light too.
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lilithapril · 1 year
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rough sketching da boi to try and beat the art block
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port-trash · 2 years
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hear me out:
eddie munson lives AU where he just like, loses his leg and has a prosthetic or smth that he decorates with his fave metal bands
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ouchhq · 1 year
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just a couple of thoughts about a little life possibly being adapted into a show/movie
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deathbyworm · 1 year
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lil magnagate symbol wants to be a time gear so bad. give up it loser! you'll never have what he had 💔💔
#im playing through gates to infinity for the first time and. hm#i get why its considered the worst game in the series#its very easy#the text goes rly slow and cant be sped up??#and u can only take 1 req at a time?? mayb this'll change as i progress but idk :/#but at the same time. i love these characters so much#emolga is so protective. virizion and ur partner being like. i wanna say narrative foils but im not certain im using that phrase right??#but still. gurdurr?? i love him so much i want to wring him out like a wet cloth. hes my boy!! my lad!!!#and scraggy being absolutely terrified of quagsire makes for some v fun lil scenes#and i love that u can build up the paradise#the whole thing of like. restoring hope in this world thats become so distrusting and gloomy. ur partners almost naivety to the rarity of#their hope for the world and the people around him. i love it so so much#i wish it was just a little bit better to do this all justice tho. cus as good as the story is the slowness and the very easy difficulty#makes it kinda painful to play thru even tho i wanna enjoy it so badlyyy#OH AND THE FREE MOVE DUNGEON SPACE??? where u like. knock over tree trunks to make bridges and stuff. i love that but again i wish the game#was just a little bit better to have properly done that concept justice!! T-T#i do love how v unova focused the pokemon chosen are. ik its unpopular but i fuckin adore the unova dex#its got lillipup!!! my boy my son!!!!#anyway. theres my pmd rant of the day#OH WAIT ACTUALLY ALSO a set of pmd2 badges i ordered arrived today and theyre v good. okay thats it bye
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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year
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I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU
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✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+
✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)
✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you
so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.
✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.
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Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way. 
He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables. 
He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible. 
It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business. 
And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.
It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little. 
That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go 
You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent  learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person. 
So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you. 
And also because the sheer  magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed. 
He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous. 
Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.
It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.
It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.
You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top. 
Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.
There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love. 
And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other. 
“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.” 
After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.
Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma. 
Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly. 
And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.
Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.
So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in. 
The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you. 
Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really.  He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.
But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely. 
He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments. 
“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”
He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort. 
“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”
You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch. 
“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”
Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.
“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.” 
“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”
He feels unsteady but so happy. 
“Thank you, my love.”
“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”
The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck. 
“The bed…?”
You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.
“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”
“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice. 
You tilt your head to one side, leaning  back on your palms. 
“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.” 
He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“
“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.
“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it. 
“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”
He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle. 
“Well, what do you want?”
“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”
“So romantic.”
“Right? So get up here.” 
He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy  before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement. 
“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.
“Yeah. Smells like you,” 
“So cute.” 
“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger. 
“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?” 
“Yeah. Yes.” 
“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.” 
“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.” 
“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”
He flushes slightly. 
“Force of habit. My point stands.” 
“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.” 
He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin. 
“Kiss me.” 
He looks at you apologetically. 
“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.” 
“Okay, but it can lead to them.” 
“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 
“Wait, no.” 
“Then kiss me.” 
He sighs. 
“Just kissing, okay?” 
“Okay, you monk.” 
He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy. 
He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light. 
“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears. 
“We are just kissing though?” 
“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of. 
“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.” 
“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin. 
“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?” 
Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look  in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least. 
“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly. 
“Yeah? Then why can’t we?” 
“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.” 
“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?” 
“What if it gets all messed up?” 
“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.” 
He groans at your vulgarity before laughing. 
“I’m being serious!” 
“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.” 
He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly. 
“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.” 
He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression. 
“You’re being unfair.”  
“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.” 
He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one. 
Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough. 
Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you. 
“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in. 
“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”
“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”  
“Doing what?”
Oh. This is… 
Oh.
“I’ve never seen you naked.”
“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.” 
“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”
You stare at him. You’re so cheeky. 
“You wanna?”
“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”
A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything. 
The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.
He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head. 
“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.” 
That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress. 
Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders? 
In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”
And your reply is about all the permission he needs. 
“Then take me,” 
Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other. 
You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other. 
He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you. 
He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind. 
“That feel good, Yuta?” 
“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.” 
You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much. 
But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder. 
“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?” 
Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.
Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next -  you put your legs up to slide them off. 
There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.
 Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you. 
Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide. 
“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”
He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you. 
“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you. 
“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”  
You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you. 
His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.
“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,” 
“You’re pretty too, Yuta.” 
He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.
 He wants to shatter you completely. 
He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it. 
He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.
He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation. 
Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you. 
Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and  not enough at the same time.  It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky. 
He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful. 
“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,” 
He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away. 
“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,” 
You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again. 
“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,” 
The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering. 
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.”  And you laugh again even louder. 
“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.”  You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again. 
He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks. 
“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”
“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”
“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded. 
“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.” 
“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,” 
The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight. 
He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence. 
If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind. 
He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs. 
He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them. 
You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him. 
“O-oh, Yuta.” 
He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him. 
“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,” 
A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking. 
He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace. 
And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding. 
“Don’t t-tease so much,”  You pant. 
Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another. 
He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside. 
Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him. 
Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath. 
Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third. 
You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss. 
“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.” 
He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”
You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself. 
“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?” 
“Treat me?” 
“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?” 
“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?” 
You smile at him. 
“Lay on your back, sweet boy.” 
Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to. 
You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up. 
Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long. 
You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him. 
“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?” 
Yuta just swallows. 
Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy. 
“Want me to go slower?” 
“Please be nice.” 
You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this. 
He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got. 
Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up. 
“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?” 
Yuta groans. 
“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago. 
It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.
“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you. 
When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs. 
“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh. 
“I love you too, Yuta.” 
__ 
After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets. 
Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest. 
“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?” 
Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression. 
“Yeah. Yeah it was.” 
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4K notes · View notes
ageofstarkey · 8 months
Note
Hi! Could you write a Mattheo one, where it’s that time of the month, and you’re just really not feeling like facing the world.
poor thing ✰ m. riddle
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summary: you’re on your period, and matthéo’s there to help you feel less awful.
pairing: bf!matthéo x reader
warnings: reader is implied to be afab, mentions of reader having their period, discussion of period-related symptoms, nothing else really???
note: hello!! thank you so much for the request!! i’m still trying to find my groove with writing, but i hope i did your prompt some justice :’) also pretend that boys can in fact enter the girls dorms in this universe lmfao
masterlist
comments & reblogs are so appreciated!
✰ ✰ ✰
“aren’t you getting up for potions?”
when you roll over, you see pansy watching you from the doorway. she’s dressed and ready for the day - book bag slung carefully across her body. she studies you with something akin to concern; awaiting your response with perfect, furrowed brows.
with a quiet sigh, you push yourself into a half-sitting position. “i don’t think so. i got my period last night and i feel absolutely horrid.”
“want me to tell riddle? i’m sure he’s looking for an excuse to skip anyway”
you roll your eyes fondly. “he’s already missed too many lessons this year - let him figure it out on his own time, yeah?”
pansy shrugs. “fine. hope you feel better.”
you groan, flopping none-too-gracefully back on your pillow. “me too.”
when pansy leaves, you take a few moments to savour the silence. it does little to ease the uncomfortable ache in your abdomen, but it’s quiet enough that you can almost pretend your head hasn’t been throbbing since the second you opened your eyes.
eventually, you snuggle back under your thick quilt, resigned to sleeping away your misery. it doesn’t take long for your fatigue to take over, pushing you steadily towards the edge of unconsciousness.
you’re nearly asleep, when you hear a sharp knock at the dormitory door. your brows tug downwards in confusion. with a quiet groan, you drag yourself out of bed. the floors are shockingly cold against your bare feet, and you curse quietly under your breath as you approach the door.
when you tug it open, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriends handsome face. although he should be in class, you can hardly fight the grin that tugs at your lips. “you are not supposed to be here.”
matthéo quirks an eyebrow, sporting a smirk you know all too well. “shall i see myself out then?”
you roll your eyes fondly. “no.”
“didn’t think so.” he lets himself in, kicking the door shut behind him. “do you wanna lay down?”
“merlin - more than anything.”
he tugs you gently towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss. “i figured as much.” he murmurs the words against your skin, punctuating them with another kiss. when he pulls away, he nudges you gently towards the bed. “how are you feeling?”
“awful.”
“cramps?” he shrugs off a few layers of clothing, before tugging back your quilt and laying on the bed.
with a gentle little tug, you’re falling into the empty space beside him. “my entire body just… aches.” with a defeated sigh, you drop your head on his chest.
matthéo hums softly, stroking a gentle hand up and down the length of your spine. “poor thing.”
“tell me about it.”
with a quiet little laugh, he tilts your head up towards his own. “do you think you’ll survive?”
“i really might not, théo. this might be it for me.”
matthéo rolls his eyes, but he wears a fond little smile that gives him away. “you’re ridiculous.”
“i am not!” your lips turn downwards in an involuntary pout. “it hurts.”
“i know, sweetheart.” he closes the small gap between you, kissing away your feeble little frown. “why don’t you try and get some rest, hm?”
“you’ll stay?”
he kisses you again - longer this time, and you swear you’re feeling better already. “‘m not going anywhere.”
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awearywritersworld · 6 months
Text
there can be no covenants between men and lions
ryomen sukuna x reader summary: sukuna would rather contemplate your murder than come to terms with his feelings for you, but you call him out on his bullshit. w/c: 3k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. aged up!yuuji. heavy kissing. features yuuji x reader and he is, of course, best boy. cursing. sukuna decides he wants to kill you (so obviously there are mentions of murder and such) but cant even stand the sight of you upset, what a goof. i'd once again like to think sukuna's not too ooc in this but im still more than likely delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i was so touched by all of the love that part one received, i wanted to try my hand at part two. i hope i've done it justice! just as part one references homer's the odyssey, this references homer's the illiad because sukuna is very hot and well read. achilles, the protagonist of the novel, is discussed. i'm definitely open to writing a part three, because this one is much heavier on the angst and i miss soft sukuna from part one. series masterlist // masterlist
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you and yuuji rarely argue, but when you do, it's often over his aversion toward seriousness, even when a situation calls for it. though you really should have kept your mouth shut, because in this moment, you'd give anything to see his typical carefree expression.
his eyes are regarding you intently, taking in your flustered appearance with knitted brows.
"yuuji..." you trail off, wracking your brain for an explanation of your current predicament.
despite the fact he regained control of his body only moments ago, one of his hands is curled around the back of your neck, while the other is resting on your hip.
"baby, what happened?" he presses, the tone of his voice entirely unreadable.
"s-sukuna," is all you can manage to choke out.
his eyes darken immediately, his jaw tensing in a way that intimidates you. "he hurt you."
you really can't tell if it's a question or a statement, and your response comes a little too quickly. "no! that's not... no."
the next few seconds tick by in a slow sort of agony, heat creeping up your cheeks.
he notices for the first time that his head is eerily quiet. no snide remarks, no scathing commentary. just his own thoughts as he pieces together the situation.
his gaze drops to the angry, red marks littering your neck and you watch in helpless horror as understanding passes his features.
"oh."
the word hangs in the air as you await his reaction, fully anticipating disgust and betrayal. you're positive it's only a matter of time before he throws you out of the apartment and tells you to never come back.
what you don't expect, however, is the way his shoulders relax as the tension leaves his face.
he straightens himself, arms falling to his sides, but he doesn't put any distance between your bodies.
"how long have you...?" he's not quite sure how to phrase the question.
"a few months. this was the first time anything... um... happened. we usually just talk."
he tilts his head to the side, so you clarify. "after you've fallen asleep."
mulling over the information, he hums in response, looking thoughtful for a few more seconds. then, his usual demeanor is back and he grabs your hand. "wanna get dinner? i'm starving!"
he tugs you a few feet toward the door before you come to your senses. "woah, woah. wait a second, yu."
when he looks back at you expectantly, you find that his face holds not one hint of bitterness or judgement. "aren't you angry?"
you're amazed to find that he's the one looking sheepish.
"how could i be? it's not exactly easy to be with me when i have a thousand year old curse rattling around in my body, but you stay anyway," he expresses, making your heart soften. "i just want you to be safe, so i'll take whatever relationship the two of have now over him being a threat to you."
as your hands reach up to cradle his face and your eyes sparkle with adoration, you briefly wonder how you ever found such a sweet man. he places a quick kiss to your lips, the smile on his face easy going as ever. "sooooo, i'm thinking takoyaki or maybe udon—"
"we can get whatever you want," you glance at the spatters of blood across his chest left there from the mission, no doubt from sukuna's careless slaughter. "as long as you go wash up first."
"right!" he agrees quickly, bounding off to the bathroom.
you stand alone in the middle of your living room, left with the ghost of both yuuji and sukuna's lips against yours and a sense of bewildered excitement.
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back in his prison, however, sukuna is furious with himself. he should have let you die that day he kept you from being run over. better yet, he should have killed you with his own hands before the brat won back control of his body.
he is a terrible being that delights in carnage, a fact that's well known even centuries later. so why, when he could have done anything in the world, did he go to you? you even asked that same question before you—
he rejects the memory of you pressing your lips to his disdainfully.
your foolishness and your naivete are revolting. your softness and your pliancy are nauseating.
he shouldn't have been anywhere near you, if not to rip your obnoxious heart from your chest like he'd always planned. it was a situation he'd dreamt about and now it's slipped through his fingers, even though those same fingers had graced your fragile little neck.
you were nothing more than a clueless mouse in the jaws of a snake, and though the pains of hunger have been tearing at its stomach for years now, the serpent let itself starve.
sukuna retreats to his domain, fingers prodding at his temples irritably. he allows himself to wallow for a few hours, shutting out both you and the brat.
then, steeling his resolve, he begins to watch and wait like the predator he knows himself to be.
lulled into a false sense of security regarding your safety, it's clear that yuuji has let his guard down. just barely so, but enough that sukuna can see a few weaknesses in his chains. ironic seeing that, now more than ever, the king of curses wants you dead.
it goes without saying that he promptly ceases his nightly interactions with you. it's beneath him, wasting his time with a human. he knows that now.
but while he may not speak to you, he cannot refrain from stealing glances as the days stretch on. you're usually reading, completely oblivious to his watchful eye. he convinces himself it's simply to keep tabs on you, as he's deemed you his foremost enemy.
he's not sure how much time has passed when you begin calling out for him in hushed whispers after yuuji falls asleep, the hurt and confusion in your voice plain to him. it's irksome, and evidently, you're incapable of taking a hint.
his silence becomes more painful with each turn of the moon. you're a bit mortified to find that you genuinely miss him, so you just want answers. did he finally realize that you're nothing special, not worth bothering with?
eventually, growing restless, you all but beg him. "sukuna, please. talk to me. what happened? what'd i do wrong?" his chest tightens with what he believes is vexation. "you can't just make me like you and then disappear. you can't kiss me like that and then—"
"you insolent, maddening little creature!" his eye flies open just in time to see you gasp, your body jerking away from him. "shut up already! can't you see i want nothing to do with you? don't you tire of being pathetic?"
you don't dignify him with a response, swallowing thickly and turning away from him.
finally, he thinks, some fucking quiet. though if he's gotten what he wanted, why does his chest still ache?
he stares at the back of your form until the sun rises.
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sukuna is no simpleton. he can be patient when he is sure of a reward, but he's thrilled that the perfect opportunity arises just two days after your encounter.
yuuji is exhausted. gojo kept him out all last night, despite the grueling mission he had today, and when he all but stumbles through your apartment door, the moon is already high in the sky.
you never mention the change in your relationship with sukuna to yuuji. even though he was so understanding, you still feel a touch awkward discussing it further. and maybe in the back of your mind, you're holding out hope that it might go back to the way it was.
sukuna watches through yuuji's eyes when you greet him, your expression half concern and half 'i told you so'. nights out with gojo usually lead to this very situation.
he showers while you finish cooking dinner and once you both eat, he helps you clean up despite his exhaustion. after whispering his thanks and pressing a kiss to your temple, he retires to bed.
you promise you'll join him soon, but sukuna knows it probably isn't true. following his outburst, you've taken to staying in the living room until you're ready to sleep.
yuuji's out before his head hits the pillow and nearly two hours later, you're still not in bed. sukuna's eager, but waits until he's sure the brat's deep in his slumber before he tries to take over. it's relatively easy, and he pushes down yuuji's unconscious mind as far as he can before rising to his feet.
this is finally it. he stretches his limbs lazily, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips. the floor creaks with each step he takes, but he pays no mind to stealth. you're no match for him.
tonight, you'll be his first victim of many and the thought of making up for his past misjudgement has him giddy with excitement.
but the sight that greets him upon exiting the bedroom— you curled into yourself on the couch, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs— it stops him in his tracks.
he wants to move, more than anything, so what the fuck is wrong with him? is the brat taking over already?
and why is that uncomfortable sensation making it's home in the center of his chest once more?
when you notice his presence, your face shifts to him and reveals your wide, teary eyes. it's clear you're surprised by his appearance, but you quickly bury your face in your knees.
you just want him to leave you alone. you hate him for what he said, for what he did. he forced his way into your life, made you care about him, and then he just vanished. he's cruel and you feel like an idiot because you should have known that from the beginning. or maybe you did and he just made you forget.
"go away. i.. i don't want to see you."
he's disbelieving, for a brief moment, that here you are giving him orders while he stands in the doorway with the intention of taking your life.
he moves toward you, invading your space in a way that is meant to be intimidating, but when you look up at him, every emotion ranging from sadness to rejection to indignation is etched into your features. though the terror he hoped to inspire is noticeably absent.
"i said go away!" you swiftly stand up, your hands meeting squarely with his chest as you push him with every ounce of power you have.
you may as well have shoved a brick wall, as he doesn't move even a fraction of an inch. he seizes one of your wrists anyway.
"what is it you think you're doing, exactly?" he spits.
"let go of me!" you beat against his chest with the hand he left free until his fingers wrap around that wrist too.
"enough."
he's certain there isn't a being that has attacked him (if he can even call that an attack) and lived to speak of it, not once in an entire millennia.
so just end the insolent brat and be done with it, he urges himself.
but he can't and he doesn't understand why, so he just stares down at you.
"what the fuck do you want?" you mean for it to come out forcefully and full of spite, but your voice cracks before you can finish.
an excellent question, indeed. what does he want?
he doesn't answer you and it's so goddamn frustrating that you begin to cry again, rambling to fill the discomforting silence. "you've already told me i'm pitiful and annoying. it's clear you think my company is insufferable, that i'm undesirable—"
that ache in his chest is unbearable now. it claws at his ribcage and shreds the flesh of his heart. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and rings shrilly in his ears. he can't even hear you anymore, but he can still see the tears sliding down your cheeks and the way you gasp between words.
the truth of the matter crashes down on him and the devastating weight of it is so crushing it squeezes the air from his lungs.
that feeling in his chest isn't annoyance or repugnance. its anguish— the kind that rattles his bones and leaves him sick with regret.
it's because you're in pain, and worse yet, he is the cause of it.
sukuna pushes you back against the wall before you can comprehend what's happening. his hands find either side of your face and you're alarmed to find that he looks... frightened.
"what are you doing to me?" he pleads for an explanation, because he sure as hell doesn't have one.
how can one little human hold such power over him? it's unnatural. it defies all logic and reason.
you stare at him, open mouthed. his face is so close that his breath fans across your skin and it makes you feel dizzy.
"what are you talking about?" you finally ask.
"you should be dead right now," he frets, despair seeping into every word. "it should be easy."
it dawns on you that you should probably feel afraid, but you just don't. his touch is firm, but careful. and there's no malice to be found behind his eyes. "you're not making any sense."
he thinks back on the time you've spent together, trying to figure out how the hell he ended up here— him at your mercy, rather than you at his. he remembers the first time he made you laugh and considers that it may have been the beginning of his unraveling. for the following two weeks, you both discussed homer at length as you made your way through his poetry.
"there can be no covenants between men and lions. wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through." you blink at him, recognizing at once that he's quoting the illiad. his voice is low and unsteady in a way that suggests desperation. it makes you shiver. "therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall."
your eyes narrow as you begin to understand his his internal struggle, though you're unsure if he's attempting to reason with you or with himself.
"you quote achilles, and rightfully so i suppose, given your common qualities— exasperating pride and a penchant for meaningless violence." he looks relieved, like your seeming agreement eases his mind. it's short lived. "but you forget his passion."
his gaze shifts away from you, his hands withdrawing from your face.
"his passion?" he repeats as if it's the most incredulous thing he's ever heard.
"by the end of the story, is he not acquainted with regret, sympathy, and respect? he doesn't remain blind to the error of his ways forever."
"only a foolish human could make such fanciful deductions," he chides through gritted teeth, still refusing to meet your eye.
you actually laugh at him. "perhaps you shouldn't call upon achilles to make your point after all. at least he grows out of his utterly childish view of the world."
"how dare you?" he demands, his features growing wild as one hand finds your throat (his touch not nearly harsh enough to cause you any discomfort), the other colliding with the wall beside your head. his display doesn't fool you though. "you witless, wretched brat! you're nothing more than a blip in a universe you cannot even begin to understand. you sicken me."
you throw achilles' words in his face just as easily as he did to you. "hateful to me as the gates of hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another."
his gaze hardens, and for a split second, you think you may have been mistaken in your fearlessness, but then his fingers thread themselves through your hair and he pulls your lips to his.
it's rough and commanding, and he tells himself it's only to get you to shut up. to wipe that expression of smug pity from your face.
it's not because, despite the fact you know how awful he is, you're convinced there's something salvageable in him too. nor is it because you tyrannize his every passing thought. and it's certainly not because the feeling of you pressed against him brings him more satisfaction than ripping the hearts from the chests of a hundred men.
ultimately, his denial is overshadowed by his desire. your touch is nothing short of needy as you tug at his shirt, an attempt to bring him even closer, and god does he hope that means you feel just as desperate as he does. he deserves at least a little consolation.
as his hands roam every valley and curve of your body, he deems it unfair that a being whose very existence spells hell on earth should be so taken with such a devastatingly divine creature.
"i've wanted you so terribly," he mumbles against your mouth before he can stop himself.
"then fuck you for making us both wait," you breath out.
his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips in response and his lips shift to your neck. "watch that pretty little mouth of yours, brat."
he nips at the spot just below your ear hard enough that it makes you gasp, doubtless a punishment for your impudence. you recover quickly though, wasting no time with your flippant reply. "or what? you'll go back to plotting my murder?"
he pulls away from you abruptly, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "you truly have zero sense of self preservation, don't you?"
"guess so," you shrug, smiling at him bashfully. "can we watch a movie? i'll even let you pick."
you ask as if it's the most normal request in the world. as if he isn't a thousand year old curse that would be off turning the city to ash were he not here with you instead.
he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. "fine."
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hypewinter · 7 months
Text
Dick stared out at the snowy landscape past the window before turning back to his new baby brother. Danny was sitting in his high chair, happily munching away at some Cheerios. Looking at him now Dick thought back to how he had come to Wayne Manor just a few months prior.
Bruce had stormed into the Manor after coming back from a Justice League mission with a bundle in his hands. Dick who had stopped by the manor to steal food catch up with Alfred had been thoroughly thrown off by his father's open animosity. He could hardly recall the last time he'd seen Bruce this outwardly furious. The man's glare alone could rival Darkseid's omega beams. As Bruce sat down at the table, the two men finally got a good look at just what he was carrying. It was an infant. An infant who was fast asleep, his soft black hair falling over his eyes. Bruce quietly asked Alfred to prepare a room as well as all necessities needed for a baby. The old butler had immediately set off to just that.
Meanwhile Dick was quick to ask what had happened but Bruce didn't say. Even when the others gradually found what was happening and asked their own questions, he still refused to answer. Not even Alfred had been told where the baby had come from. The only information Bruce had offered up was that the baby's name was Danny and he would be staying at the Manor from now on. As for the rest of the details, he claimed he would tell them in due time. But Batman's "due time" was often too late to actually do anything about it so desperate for answers, the family had turned to their own investigations only to come up with nothing.
All files related to Danny were locked behind a mountain of firewalls and Oracle had apparently already been sworn to secrecy by the big man himself. Whatever it was, Bruce wanted absolutely zero interference, so for now, the family was forced to sit in their hands.
That led till now, 5 months later. It was mid-January and Dick was on babysitting duty. Everyone else was either out running errands or on a mission. Not that Dick minded though. Danny was incredibly cute and he loved taking care of him. Besides, it gave him the perfect opportunity to get Danny to see him as the favorite brother. Still, Dick couldn't help but feel couped up today. Maybe it was because it had been snowing the last few days leaving both boys alone in the giant manor all day long.
Dick stared wistfully out the window once again before an idea dawned on him. He turned back to Danny who had stuffed the last of the Cheerios into his mouth along with his entire hand.
"Hey Danny. Wanna have a snow day?" he asked cheerily. The boy cocked his head at Dick, hand still in mouth. Dick smiled wider. "I'll take that as a yes!"
Dick hoisted Danny out of his high chair and carried him upstairs to his room. After he set Danny down in his crib, he grabbed all the gear he needed. He picked out a long sleeve shirt with a cartoon star and big bold letters reading "You're a Star!" He also grabbed long socks, some elastic pants as well as jeans, a scarf, a blue beanie, and a pair of cute little mittens.
It didn't take long for Danny to be fully dressed for the outside elements. Though after Dick finished putting his shoes on, he squirmed a little and made a face.
"I know I know," Dick cooed. "But I'm pretty sure B. would make an exception to his 'no killing rule' if you got sick on my watch."
Dick admired his handy work for a minute (taking dozens of pictures as he did so) before picking his brother up and heading downstairs. After a quick pitstop at the door to grab his own jacket and gloves from the coat rack, he opened the door and greeted the chilly air outside.
Danny giggled as he reached up at the snow while Dick circled around to the side of the manor.
"Bitey! Bitey!" he squealed.
"Yep, Bitey," Dick replied with mild confusion.
Danny would say random things like that sometimes, forcing the world's greatest detectives to put their minds together in order to figure out what he was talking about. One time he just wouldn't stop saying "Em". It took everyone a whole day to realize he was referring to music. And an extra two days to figure out he was specifically referring to pop music.
Oftentimes he would call Barbara "Jazzy" and Duke "Tuck". On occasion he would even call Cass "Sammy". Every time he called something a new name, it was a race to figure out what he meant. Each time they figured out a new word, Bruce's face would darken and he'd disappear off to the Watchtower for the day. Something that was really starting to drag on Dick's nerves. It was like it was physically impossible for that man to share information.
Dick was startled out of his thoughts by a tug at his jacket and looked down to see Danny staring at him.
"Sorry sorry," he said with a smile. "Lost in my thoughts. Forgive me?"
Danny put on a pout but Dick knew by now that it was fake. One could tell by the mischievous look in the boy's eyes that he just couldn't hide. "So be it then!" Dick declared before pulling Danny close and snuggling into him. The boy shrieked as cold nose touched warm neck. "Fo-give! Fo-give!" he cried.
"Aw thanks," Dick said as he pulled away. Danny giggled again, his bright blue eyes crinkling with laughter.
The pair walked around in the snow for a bit longer before Danny started making grabby hands towards the ground. "You want down?" Dick asked. Danny nodded energetically.
"Alright."
Dick carefully set Danny down in the snow. The boy excitedly wriggled before putting his hands down to the snow. As Dick watched, there was a burst of light and suddenly there was a semi circle of ice, radiating out from their position. Dick stared at the ice in shock. Danny turned and blinked up at Dick, almost as if he were in shock too. But he very quickly went back to playing in the snow. Dick swallowed. Sure they all knew Danny had powers. It was pretty obvious when the third day there, he floated up to the ceiling. Still though, he highly doubted ice powers was up there on anyone's list of "abilities our new baby brother might manifest next."
Dick was so shocked all he could manage to utter was, "Huh. That's new."
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choisanboobenthusiast · 8 months
Text
Princess part two
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Pairing: sub!mingi x fem reader
Genre: smut MDNI
Word count: 3.7k
Summary: you and Mingi finally do the deed and well, a few others things...
Warnings: this is filthy, established relationship, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), begging begging begging, pet names, slight spit play, spit used as lube (just for a second), choking, anal fingering (our princess receiving), creampie, overstimulation, crying... I think that's it whew!
a/n: wow thank you guys SO MUCH for all the love on part one, I really wasn't sure what to expect upon posting it. I hope part two does it justice. Thank you guys for reading and liking and reblogging and commenting, it all means so much as I work really hard on these. Anyways, happy reading friends! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Part One
"I swore..." Mingi sighed defeatedly. "I swore I had one in there."
Mingi had been nervously shuffling around in his nightstand drawer searching for a condom, but not having much luck while you lied beside him, your naked body pressed to his muscular back. You threw your leg over his thigh, tracing little shapes into his skin and giving his head tiny scratches right where his hair met his nape. Mingi loved being little spoon, loved being wrapped up in you and for once feeling a bit smaller than the near giant he was. But at the moment, instead of being able to just enjoy the warmth of your body heat in total innocence, all your slight touches on his skin, the feeling of your leg over his own, your hard nipples grazing his back casually every once in a while were causing him to quickly grow hard again.
He shut the bedside table drawer, a bit forcefully, and huffed out. Disappointed that he couldn't find what he was looking for as the insatiable need to be inside you took over him. "Sorry... I don't have one."
"Hmmm." You pouted, placing languid kisses across his shoulder and neck, letting your hand wander over the expanse of his stomach and venture up towards his chest. "Mingi, baby, we can just do it without one."
"R-really?" If he'd had cat ears they would have perked up in excitement.
"If you're okay with it." Your hand found it's way in between his pecs, fingers dancing lightly over his sweaty skin. "I trust you."
He nodded. "I trust you, too."
"And you're absolutely sure you wanna do this?"
"So fucking sure." He answered. "Like very, very sure."
You smiled, kissed his neck lazily and nibbled at his earlobe while the hand on his chest grazed gently over one of his nipples. You let your finger circle over it slowly and he took a shaky breath. "My good boy can't wait to be inside me, can he?"
"No, can't wait." He sighed out. Just like that, he had snapped back into the same headspace he had previously been in and you were more than willing to take the reigns.
"You're my good boy, right Mingi?" You pinched his nipple lightly, the action eliciting a tiny moan from his lips.
"I-I'm your good boy."
You let your hand travel down his torso before taking his aching cock back into your hand, slowly pumping up and down. Mingi shuddered under your touch, his own hand going to rest on your wrist as he groaned.
"How do you want to do this? What position?"
"I don't care." He choked out. "Whatever you wanna do, I don't care."
You quickly switched your position, leaving your spot behind him, pressing on his shoulder to make him lie on his back. You continued stroking him slowly as you straddled his thighs again, relishing in the way his muscles tensed and his eyebrows scrunched. His hands splayed over both your thighs, rubbing into your flesh gently. He looked at you then with a bit of desperation, not having to say anything at all for you to know that he need more than your hands. You let go of his cock and shuffled upwards, placing your wet pussy on top of his member but not moving just yet. His hips jerked just slightly at the contact and his fingers dug into your skin for a moment. You began to slowly move your hips back and forth, resting your hands on his chest while you covered his dick in your slick. He moved easily in between your folds due to how soaked you were from sucking him off. You couldn't believe how big he felt like this, moving through your wetness, the head of his cock bumping into your clit with every one of your movements, you began to wonder how he was going to fit inside of you at all.
Beneath you Mingi was close to losing all composure, his face flushed and sweaty, his hands grasping at you as you ground into him. He couldn't believe how sexy you looked like this and he couldn't believe how much he loved it when you controlled him. He could do nothing to stifle the whimpers that continued to fall from his mouth, not that he wanted to anyways. He enjoyed making those sounds for you, he could tell you liked the way his voice sounded when it came out strained and he wanted nothing more than to continue to please you.
Above him you were quickly becoming breathless, the need within you building relentlessly as you continued to rub yourself over him, your pace increasing. The way he sounded, the way he looked, the way he felt, god you were so lost in him, and you loved it. You were driving yourself to the edge, seeing how far you could push yourself before the ache became too much and paying close attention to how far you were pushing Mingi as well. He was getting more restless, his back arching just slightly off the bed as he pushed his hips up to meet your thrusts in the middle, his body practically begging for you to impale yourself on his cock already. When you tweaked both his nipples his mouth fell open as he released a sound that was nearly a cry and he started to beg.
"Please, f-fuck-" His voice caught in his throat when you pinched particularly hard. "N-need ugh need you, please. Fuck, this feels so good, you're so wet. Fuck me, please just fuck me." He was whining and babbling, begging so nice for you.
"Baby boy, you sound so pretty." You complimented, taking your hands from his chest, leaving his nipples hard and red as his chest heaved. "Want me to fuck you so bad, huh?"
"Yes." His pretty brown eyes pleaded with you as his hands ran up and down your sides, detouring to your chest where he absentmindedly played with your nipples before cupping and squeezing the flesh of your breasts. "Want it, please."
You leant over him and kissed him with need, entangling your tongue with his as he continued to massage your chest, the movement of your hips never ceasing. You stroked Mingi's hair and face, breaking the kiss to stare at him. You had never seen Mingi look so fucked out before and you hadn't even fucked yet. "Mingi, baby." You said sweetly, staring into his eyes. "Are you okay to keep going?"
He nodded and snaked his arms around you, pulling you flush with his chest. "I'm good." He smiled. "I am so fucking good." He nuzzled into your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin before he whispered shyly in your ear. "I want... you to use me."
"Oh, is that right?" You were trying your best to sound intimidating despite the way your heart was jumping around inside your chest. "Want me to sit on this pretty cock?" You ground into him aggressively as he whined and nodded his head. "Ask me nicely, just one more time, and I'll give you what you want baby."
"Please." He complied immediately. "Please, wanna make you feel good. Fuck yourself on me, use me however you want, I'm yours."
You sat back up and hovered just slightly above him, taking his cock in your hand, feeling your slick covering him completely. He was already throbbing from the stimulation you'd given him and you guessed he might not last very long once inside. You rubbed the head of his cock in between your lips, applying extra pressure with your hips when it met with your clit. You did this a few times, the first of a few things you did to grant his wish to use him. Finally, you lined him up with your entrance, sinking yourself over just his head which slid in easily. He gasped and squeezed your thighs harshly, the muscles in his abdomen tensing noticeably.
"Just relax." You cooed, gently caressing one of his arms with your free hand. The sentiment served as a reminder to yourself as well, knowing it might be a little bit of a struggle to take all of him inside you.
You began to lower yourself further, slowly taking him in, inch by inch. Your hands braced on his little waist as he filled you and your eyes closed in pleasure at the stretch. It seemed to take forever, your pussy pulsing around him the further you took him in, your heart beating faster. He felt so good inside you, so big, and you felt full to the fucking brim when your pelvis finally met with his, at which point you were both a mess. The sensation of finally being inside you, fully seated, nearly made Mingi cum right on the spot. But he wanted you to fuck him, so he put every ounce of control he possessed into keeping himself from busting immediately. That didn't mean he was composed though, actually quite the opposite. As soon as your hips met he let out a long and low groan and his hands couldn't seem to find a resting point, wandering aimlessly over your body.
You started slow, pulling yourself up off of him nearly all the way before lowering your body down again. The second time he bottomed out an even more sinful noise escaped his throat and he pressed his head back into the pillow beneath him. You repeated your actions several more times, completely enthralled with the way he sounded and basking in the pleasure of taking him in over and over again. Eventually his hands came to rest on your hips, urging you to move just a little faster. You obliged, picking up your pace slightly, watching his face contort with euphoria.
"There you go, princess." You said breathlessly, watching his face go red at the nickname. "Just let go. Does it feel good, baby?"
"Mmm." He whined. "You're so uhhng s-so tight. Am I- do I feel good?"
"Mingi, you're perfect." You sighed, increasing you pace even more. You leant over him slightly, your hand slithering up to his neck where you gave it an experimental squeeze. His eyes seemed to glimmer at the action. You kept your hand there as you began to fuck him harder, pulling groan after groan from him as you squeezed his throat gently, applying a little more pressure occasionally. As you continued to bounce on him you slowly trailed your hand further up his neck, then to his cheek, brushing your fingers over his pink skin and then tracing the plush of his lips. His mouth already hung open, as if it were inviting your fingers in. With a little hesitation you slipped your pointer and middle finger past his bottom lip and as if he could sense your apprehension, he swiped the tip of his tongue over your fingertips. You pushed your fingers the rest of the way into his mouth, sliding them over his tongue and pushing them back. He closed his lips around your digits, sucking on them gently, basking in the saltiness of your skin as his tongue swirled over your fingers.
You were riding him like a bull, fucking his mouth with your fingers and grasping at his shoulder harshly with your other hand. His voice was muffled by your fingers stuffed in his mouth but the sounds he made weren't any less heavenly. You fell forward onto his chest, your hips slowing slightly as you focused on the brush of your clit against his pubes. You removed your fingers from his mouth, tracing over his glistening lips as he parted them. He tugged on your hair and pulled you in for a messy open mouthed kiss, all spit and tongue.
Despite thoroughly enjoying your time on top and the way you got to take control of him, your body was beginning to tire in this position. You needed a break. You pulled back from him just slightly, your lips brushing over his as you spoke. "You on top now, Min. Don't pull out." He nodded and kissed you once more before returning his arms to their previous place around your middle. He held you tightly to him, grunting lowly as he maneuvered your connected bodies, making sure to grant your request to stay inside you as he did so. Your arms naturally found their way around his shoulders and once beneath him you cupped his face in your hands, kissing him and running your fingers down his collarbone and over his chest. He propped himself up on his elbows, resting them on either side of your head while your hands stroked his back lovingly.
"You're gonna fuck me now. I want it hard and fast, Mingi, do you think you can do that for me?"
"Yes." He nodded quickly and dipped his head down to kiss along your jaw, moving slowly to your neck as he began to drag his dick in and out of you. "Anything for you."
Soon enough he was rutting into you fervently, groaning and huffing with every snap of his hips. The angle he had you in caused him to hit deeper within you than he had before and you dug your nails into the skin of his back to try to stay grounded, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He was a sweaty, moaning mess, as were you and you couldn't believe he had lasted this long. The fact that he came earlier was probably helping a lot. Your skin stuck together and the sound of his balls slapping into you echoed around the room as he continually reentered you. You reached down and squeezed his plump ass, urging him to fuck you as deep as he could. Then you had an idea, one that you weren't completely sure about but you knew he would tell you to stop if he was uncomfortable.
You slowly inched your dominant hand inward, waiting for any sign of disapproval or discomfort and when met with none you slipped your hand gently in between his cheeks, your middle finger just barely stroking at his entrance. He let out a choked whimper and his hips stuttered but he looked at you and nodded, giving you permission to continue. With his mouth agape and eyebrows knit together you brought your pointer and middle finger back to his mouth.
"Get them nice and wet for me."
You didn't have to ask him twice, his mouth chasing after your digits. He slobbered all over them, soaking them in his saliva, all while trying to keep a steady pace with his hips though it faltered somewhat. After what seemed like a sufficient amount of wetness covered your fingers, you carefully removed them from his mouth and brought them back down to his ass. With your other hand still resting on his ass cheek you pulled slightly to allow yourself better access to his hole. You rubbed the tips of your fingers over his entrance in a circular motion before very gently pushing the tip of your middle finger past his rim. One knuckle deep and his movements ceased completely, his head falling forward beside yours as he nuzzled into your hair.
"Don't be nervous, okay? I'm gonna be very gentle with you." You thought for a moment as he nodded slightly. "Do you have lube, Mingi? It'll feel a lot better that way." He nodded again and you carefully removed your finger. He stretched his arm to the bedside table, luckily still in reach even while he was fully sheathed inside you, and opened the drawer. He found the little bottle quickly and passed it to you. You squirted a generous amount in your hand and rubbed it over his hole before adding some extra to your fingers for good measure. You positioned your middle finger back at his entrance, circling it gently. "Once I'm inside I want you to start moving again, but just relax for now, okay?"
"O-okay." He breathed.
You knew you were pushing him, you weren't sure if he'd be able to actually follow through but you knew he'd try. "Have you done this before?" You asked.
"No."
"It'll feel good, I promise."
He breathed right into your ear as you pushed your finger past his rim again. It sunk in easily thanks to the lube and you began to work your finger in further.
"H-holy fuck." Mingi stuttered, his voice as high pitched as you'd ever heard it.
"Yeah? Feels good, baby?" Just as you did before you grasped at his cheek, opening him up for you as your finger slowly went deeper. "You can take the whole thing right? Two maybe?"
"Mm-mhm." His whining was nearly endless, tiny little sounds seeming to escape him with every breath.
You prodded at his entrance with your pointer finger, carefully and slowly working it in next to the other. He gasped upon the intrusion and wound a hand into your hair, those sinfully angelic sounds still being spoken directly into your ear. "Doing such a good job, Mingi." You praised. "Just a little more."
"It's s-s-so, I feel, hah o-oh-" He groaned loudly as you got deeper, the feeling of his previously untouched hole being stretched and filled giving him a whole new sense of euphoria. He felt like he couldn't breathe or speak or think. The only thoughts in his mind were of how it felt to be balls deep in your soaking cunt while your fingers filled him. But he remembered what you said, that he was to move again once your fingers were inside and shit, he was going to try. He used whatever strength he had left to drag his dick out of you before shoving himself back inside. He continued, trying his best to pick up the pace a little.
"Fuck yes, Mingi." You moaned, your fingers fully sheathed in his tight hole. "Such a good boy."
This seemed to egg him on and he moved his hips faster, which caused your fingers to move in and out of him at the same pace with which he was fucking you. "Ah! I'm gonna, gonna cum!" He announced suddenly. 
"Come on, baby, cum for me." You plunged your fingers as deep as they could go and it sent him toppling over the edge with a cry of your name. He looked like a god, with his mouth agape, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose, eyes shut tightly. You were so close to cumming too and nearly did at just the sight of him. His hips bucked into you aggressively, his dick hitting so deep within you, you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He thrust into you a few more times, pumping his cum deep inside you as your walls clenched unforgivingly around him and his entire body shook above you. With the last few strokes of his cock you could feel his release being pushed out of you, dripping down your ass and staining the sheets. Finally, his hips stilled and you noticed he was gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white. 
You slowly removed your fingers, gently massaging his ass as he started to come down. But you weren't finished. "Make me cum, Mingi." You ground your hips upward. "I'm so close, Min." You were trying to sound demanding but it almost sounding like you were begging. You did your best to regain your composure. "Don't stop fucking me."
"But I-" You bucked your hips up at his protest and he whimpered loudly. "I- okay." 
He did as you said, starting very slowly, battling the overstimulation. With every stroke he choked out broken moans but he didn't stop. He picked up the pace, fucking you hard and fast like you said you wanted. You dipped your hand in between the two of you to rub your clit, knowing it would only be moments before you were climaxing. At this point he was an absolute fucked out mess, shaking and whining and... crying? Oh, Mingi was crying. At first you were worried but when he moaned in between his little sobs and mewled into your ear before kissing you messily just below it, your worries disappeared. 
"Just a- unghhh just a little more for me." You could feel your orgasm building, the coil within you wrapping up tighter and tighter with each passing second. The way his huge cock split you open and drug against your walls had you reeling. You weren't sure if he knew it or not, but with every one of his thrusts his cockhead punched into your g-spot.
"Please, want you to cum." He muttered, tears still falling from his eyes. "Cum on my cock, please baby. Need you to cum."
The way he begged you to cum had you doing so almost immediately. Your pussy clenched hard around him as the pleasure radiated throughout your body, your muscles tensing as you shook and moaned and clawed at his back. Mingi cried out as well, the feeling of his sensitive cock being overstimulated even further only caused him to shed more tears. But he helped you ride out your orgasm, despite feeling totally overwhelmed. Soon enough your body went limp beneath him and you stroked his back gently as he sniffled, still buried within you. 
"Mingi." You breathed, chest heaving still as you brought your hands to cup his face. "You okay, baby?"
He nodded shyly, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face into your palm while you swiped at his tears. "I'm really good." He confessed, pecking you sweetly on the lips. "You're so good."
You giggled a little and hummed. "Mmm, you're so good too, Min."
He pulled his softening dick from inside you, both of you shuddering a bit at the feeling, and collapsed on the bed beside you, half his body still atop yours. He had stopped crying and you ran your fingers through his hair, earning yourself a satisfied smile while he traced his own fingers over you arm. You lied there silently for a little while, just enjoying the calm and quiet as you touched each other lovingly. 
Soon after, you showered together, all the while Mingi peppered you with kisses and cuddled you close to him. It was playful and loving and probably one of the longest showers you'd ever taken. After showering you returned to what you had been watching, snuggling up on the couch together under a blanket, downing some water and thanking yourself for picking up some extra snacks on the way over. You dozed off at some point, with your head on his chest and his heartbeat in your ear, fully content to be wrapped up in his big warm arms again.
taglist: @slid3er @minkysmilk @solarstoy
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httpdwaekki · 1 month
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phobia | b.c.
summary: you have arachnophobia but luckily you had an aussie to help you with it.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: mentions of spiders! i tried not to get too specific but they are still mentioned heavily.
a/n: my first request ah! @anjian03 ty so much for the request, i hope i did this justice :) i honestly might write a felix version in the in the future so definitely let me know if that's something you'd want :) anyway! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3
my library
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(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)
you never liked bugs, never have, never will. spiders in particular, terrify you. no matter how small, what color, you will always hate them. naturally, you fell in love with an australian, which was both a blessing and a curse. 
now chan is well aware of your dislike of bugs, even more so of your phobia of spiders. so when he invited you to go back home with him, you were hesitant. of course you wanted to meet his family and berry but all you could think about is the 8 legged arachnids that reside in his home country.
chan could see the immediate panic that took over your features. you were well aware of how irrational your fear was, and you definitely didn’t want it to get in the way of you meeting your boyfriend’s family but you couldn’t help it.
“you’re worried about the spiders right?” you nod, picking at the now chipped nail polish that covered each finger. you were sat across from him on your couch, head hung in embarrassment. he gently grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. 
“hey,” he shakes your hand gently, making you to look at him, “i get it, okay? you don’t have to go if it’ll stress you out too much. you don’t have too, okay?” you quickly shake your head.
“no no, i wanna come.” you reassure him. “are you sure?” he asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty. “yes, i wanna meet berry and your family and see where you grew up.” you nod smiling, squeezing his hand. 
“okay, i’ll be there the whole time okay?” he reassures you. you lean forward, placing a loving kiss to his plush lips, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “i know channie,” placing a soft kiss on his neck. “thank you.”
a few months later, chan finally has a break and you find yourself in the warm city of sydney, australia. you had been there for a few days, and it wasn’t as bad as you had imagined. you hadn’t even thought about the arachnids since meeting his family.
 simply focusing on chan enjoying the limited time he had home with his family. it was nice to see him so relaxed, and carefree, not worrying about deadlines or comebacks, just enjoying life.
and that’s exactly what he looked like now, playing with berry as you helped his mom clean up from the delicious dinner she had cooked. she was finishing washing the last of the dishes as you dried them. you both went back and forth, telling your own stories about chan, laughing and smiling at the precious boy in the next room.
after the dishes, she starts tying the bag in the trash can. you stop her, “oh, mrs.bang, i can grab that.” she quickly shakes her head. “no sweetheart, you’re a guest, i’ve got it.”  you shake your head right back. 
“please? you cooked all day and i think my mother would yell at me if she found out i didn’t do more to help.” you insisted, reaching for the bag. she relents, handing you the bag, “okay, you win, the trash is  just around the house, but make sure you put on the light. you never know what nasty buggers are running around out there.” she laughs.
your blood suddenly runs cold, a stark reminder of the things that made you scared to come here in the first place. you knew she was joking, just a light hearted comment but you couldn’t help but freeze.
she looks at you concerned, “are you okay?” you smile, nodding. “yes sorry, i’ll be right back.” you make a quick exit, finding the side door, making sure to flip the light switch first.
once outside of the door you take a moment to breathe. you look out to the australian sunset, trying to relax for a moment. it was still light out, but still dark enough to need the light. after a moment or two you finally move towards the trash cans.
unbeknownst to you, chan had made his way out to follow you. his mom asking him to check on you as you were taking a while, before making her way to her room. this set off silent alarms in chan’s head, as he was well aware of the presence of the specific 8-legged creatures that you loathed surrounding the trash bins.
as he made it to the door, he hears the unmistakable sound of your scream. he quickly yanks the door, yelling your name. you run into him, letting out another yelp. “hey hey, jagiya, it’s just me, it’s chan, you’re okay.” you shove your face into his neck, hands shaking as you wrap your arms around him.
he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back, glancing behind you where he finds the trash bag on the floor, and the dreaded 8-legged creature on the handle to the trash bin. he places a kiss to the side of your head, “are you okay to wait for me by the door?’ he whispered into your ear. you nod your head, slowly releasing him, making your way back to the door.
he quickly moves to grab the bag, brushing the spider off with the bag before lifting the lid, placing the bag inside. he makes his way back to you, opening the door, ushering you inside. “come on, let’s wash our hands quick, then we can lay down.” you nodded, making your way to the sink.
the shaking slowly subsides as you slowly wash your hands. chan notices the slight shake stil present in your hands. he softly wraps his soap covered hands over yours, stopping your movements. “you okay baby?” he leans over, whispering into your ear. you nod your head, you’re face heating up in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.”
he shakes his head, quickly rinsing your hands before drying them. he places his hands to your warm cheeks, your eyes shiny as they look into his. “you have nothing to apologize for, okay?” you slightly nod your head.
“you got scared, it happens it’s okay.” his thumbs gently rubbing your soft cheeks. “i’m so proud of you, my brave baby.” your cheeks become even warmer. you let out a giggle, dropping your head, shaking it a bit. 
“i’m serious bubs, i know you were scared to go out there but you still went.” you smile, placing a kiss on the side of his mouth. “ come on, let’s go lay down.” he grabs your hand, leading you to his childhood room, where you spent the rest of the night, cuddled together, looking at chan’s babies pictures.
you may never get over your phobia but at least you have chan with you to help you.
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corroded-hellfire · 29 days
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Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!
Baby fever you say? 👀 Step into my office…
Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!
Words: 3.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Ugh,” Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Eliza’s nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans he’s holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.
Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics he’s inherited from their father. 
“What is taking so long?” Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground. 
Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryan’s questioning look.
“Every outfit I pick out she doesn’t like!”
Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what he’s doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesn’t have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.
“Eh?” Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.
Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once. 
“What?” Luke shouts as he bolts upright. “The Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!”
Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day. 
“She must love me more.”
“Uh, no,” Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. “Better clothes.”
Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.
“Oh, that’s too good! Please, we all know I’m her favorite,” Luke says.  
At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room. 
“I seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,” Ryan says, following the little girl’s lead and heading towards the door. 
“Well,” Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, “then this time we don’t allow him to be part of our bet.”
The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response. 
“What bet?” Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.
“Yeah, what bet?” Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his “#1 Dad” coffee mug where he leans against the counter. 
“Seeing who Eliza’s favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,” Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table. 
“I believe that would be me,” you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. “I just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.” 
“No one can compete with the Rol,” Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile. 
“She definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,” Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes. 
“I bet I could interrupt it and she’d be okay with it,” your husband says. “And will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?”
“So, you’re saying you’re the favorite, Dad?” Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking. 
“Isn’t that old news?” Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Luke’s box of Lucky Charms. 
“Everything about you is old,” Ryan says.
The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Eliza’s sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living room—Eddie’s eyes still firmly burning your back—and go to give your daughter her drink. 
“Didn’t we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,” you say. “Eliza picked Wayne over all of us.”
Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “No beating the old man. The actual old man.” Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return. 
“No,” Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. “We have to know who her favorite in the house is.” 
“Any ideas?” Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother. 
“Hmm,” Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. “I’ll brainstorm at school today.”
In the end, it’s you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much you’re able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. It’s not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof. 
After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.
“So, like, we take turns? One person a day?” Luke asks.
You nod in confirmation.
“Right. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, she’d get cranky and it wouldn’t be fair for whoever goes last.”
“What, we like, pick straws?” Ryan asks. “Then someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?”
“I’m game,” Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side. 
“So…” Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. “We just put our heads in her lap like this?” The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes. 
“Exactly,” you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. “See if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then we’ll see who she has the best reaction to.”
“I like it,” Ryan says.
“Me too,” Luke agrees. “Ryan, go get straws. Cut one short!”
With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes. 
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The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out. 
Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, it’s time for the games to begin. 
You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughter’s eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer. 
Eliza’s leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan can’t help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until there’s a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what he’s doing, but happy to have his attention. 
“Do you want me to stay?” Ryan asks.
Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brother’s neck and settles back against the cushions. 
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, “and as a win.”
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Wednesday, it’s Luke’s turn. Once Eliza’s got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. It’s clear from the moment Luke’s head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyone’s guess. 
“Ow,” Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if it’s a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. There’s a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brother’s head. However, it’s short-lived. 
Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Luke’s curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryan’s hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Luke’s curls are far tighter than his older brother’s, Eliza’s fingers quickly get caught in them. 
“Oh, please no,” Luke murmurs, but it’s too late.
Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers can’t run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Luke’s hair while letting out her own whine.
“Ouch! Why are you whining? I’m the one who’s about to be bald!”
Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter. 
“Bald?” Eddie says. “Wayne? That you?”
Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dad’s remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddler’s grip. 
Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the rat’s nest that’s become of Luke’s hair—thanks to her. She’s thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, she’d definitely be using those.
Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Eliza’s hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.
Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. She’s immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten. 
Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge. 
To Eddie and Ryan’s credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. 
“Ugh,” Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. “It’s not even 8 am yet.”
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With both of the boys’ attempts out of the way, you’re up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that you’d end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and she’s let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her. 
“Good luck, babe,” Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room. 
As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. 
You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. It’s odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you. 
“Mama!” Eliza chirps.
A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Eliza’s arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye. 
Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.
“Hold on,” you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, “wait to see what happens when the show comes back.”
There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens. 
Eliza’s skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show. 
“Oh, come on,” you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. It’s not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers haven’t been corrupted by life yet. 
Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips. 
“Comfy, are we?” he asks. 
It’s evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesn’t look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode. 
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“All right,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. “Saved the best for last.”
“Debatable,” Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar. 
Your husband flicks Ryan’s black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off. 
“Ready?” you ask, slipping your arms around Eddie’s waist. 
“Always up for snuggles with my girls.” 
A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.
“Gross,” Luke groans.
“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie taunts, proving he’s as mature as his adolescent sons. 
You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddie’s cheeks. 
“Go get her,” you say.
He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.
Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesn’t even realize he’s there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddie’s jean-clad knee.  
He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until he’s able to rest his head in his daughter’s lap. 
At first, it’s as if Eliza doesn’t even notice. She’s watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return. 
One of Eliza’s tiny hands splays across Eddie’s forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble. 
Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you. 
Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. He’s about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.
There’s no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him. 
“You might just be as weird as I am,” he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder. 
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That night at dinner, the results are discussed.
“So, who wins?” Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.
“Not me,” Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair. 
“Oh, relax,” Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. “It’s not like this was scored or anything.”
Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.
“My hair ruined it for me! That’s not fair!”
“You know, she can talk now,” you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.
“Good point,” Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. “Eliza, which of us is your favorite?”
The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like she’s thoughtfully thinking over the question.
“Me,” she finally says.
“No,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Which of us?” He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table. 
Eliza nods her head once, with finality. “Me.”
Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.
“Her Majesty has spoken.”
“I don’t think it counts,” Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.
“Yeah, her vote doesn’t count,” Ryan agrees.
You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.
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sunshine-on-marz · 2 months
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Hi lovely could I please request for Spencer Reid where the reader is in the bau and is the only one who asks questions when Spencer starts rambling because she’s genuinely interested and one day Reid asks if she wants to go see a movie after she asked him about it and Derek is all teasing like you got a date pretty boy ? Thank you so much ❤️
Hi my love! Now I just adore this idea and I hope I do it justice! (Also, my sweets, I tried out something new with the writing style at the start, I'd love some feedback on that and the fic as a whole) warning: reader is called princess but gender isn't mentioned.
"I wanna hear"
Spencer Reid x Reader
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Spencer Reid, ever the genius, is entirely clueless to social cues.
Oh good lord that boy just doesn't pick up on it!... is what you would say if you didn't adore his rambling tangents. Jesus, all of it is perfect. All of him is perfect. But, not everyone sees the beauty in art. apparently.
"Reid, thanks for that, anyways." Derek starts to cut Spencer's rambling off, you watch Spencer's face fall, and it's entirely heartbreaking. You gently grab his hand "Keep talking Spence" you smile and he looks confused. "really?" he asks, you nod. "yes, I wanna hear." you assure him as you clasp his hand between both of yours, his eyes light up. He rambles on about the connection between 8 different serial killers with a specific disease and how despite them never meeting their killings looked almost like copycats. In all honesty half the words are out of your vocabulary and the rest of them are spoken to fast for you to pick up on details, but you listen to every single sound that makes it past his lips, even if you don't process it all.
"so they never met? did the know about the other killers?" you ask, resting your chin on your hand and he shakes his head "no, they didn't know about each other until they were arrested" he answers. "Hm, that's really interesting spencer, like, that's super cool- well not cool but you know what I mean", he chuckles "Yea, I know what you mean."
You were smiling bright enough to light up a room as you ask your next question. "Do you want to hang out sometime? Like after work... just us?". He nods "I'd love that."
There's a small gasp through the bullpen after his response. You and Spencer look over and see the team eavesdropping.
"Pretty boy and the Princess are goin' out!" Derek cheers, the girls laugh and you and Spencer blush.
Its going to take a while for the teasing to stop, surely, but it's all worth it for Spencer.. at this point, you might call anything worth it if it's for Spencer.
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It's short and sweet but I just adore this <3
@the-phantom-author - Who promised to hype me up
@thesockbehindthewashingmachine - Who will hype me up without a promise
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celtic-crossbow · 4 months
Text
You’re Holy to Me
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria Warnings: Sexual themes; thigh riding; minor degradation; brat taming Summary: Daryl knows just how to make you behave. A/N: Thank you @thewalkingdilf for letting me use your idea. I hope I did it justice!
©celtic-crossbow 2024. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.
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“Are you done yet?” You were whining, knowing damn well how it grated on Daryl’s nerves when he was focused on something. Right now, that focus was his bike. You absolutely knew better, but carried on anyway. “Come on, Daryl!
The archer was on one knee, eyes narrowed in concentration. At the next mewl of his name, he dropped a wrench with a loud clatter. You had been attached to his hip— apparently in every way except the one you wanted —since leaving your shared room that morning. Not that he minded. It was nice to feel loved, to feel wanted. “Listen, sunshine, I got a lot to do, so why don’tcha go on home an’ bug Carol for a bit?”
“Carol can’t help me.” You pouted from directly behind him. Biting your lip, you drew your finger through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “Come on, I wanna play.” You huffed, pressing a foot against his leg to get his attention focused on you. 
In such close proximity, Daryl could practically smell your arousal and he shivered. “You’re bein’ awf’ly needy right now. Ya really should go to the house.” When you didn’t answer, he nearly turned to address you again but then he felt you pressing yourself against him. Knelt as he was, your center was against the back of his neck, warm through the fabric of your skirt. “Better stop now, Y/N. Ya don’t let me finish up here, I ain’t gonna let you finish for a while.”
“Daryl.” You whined, moving your hips side to side. “Are you still not done with your other girlfriend? I need you now.” Your fingertips found their way into his hair again, scratching and lightly tugging. “You know there’s a better place to stretch those fingers.”
He had just retrieved the wrench only to drop it again, this time reaching it to wrap his fingers around your wrist. With a growl, he stood, turning to loom over you in a way you would have found intimidating if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand. 
Oh boy, you were in for it now. 
“Why ya gotta be such a brat?” His tone held no heat, but there was a threat there; the type of threat that had a rush of arousal soaking through your panties. You blinked up at him with a coy smile. “Ya knew exactly whatcha was doin’, didn’tcha? Can’t go one day without that greedy lil’ pussy bein’ filled, can ya?”
“What on earth will you ever do with me?” Your smile remained and only fueled the lust burning through the archer. 
“I know exactly what m’gonna do with ya.”
His eyes narrowed and you gulped at the same time as your cunt clenched around nothing. His large hands gripped your hips tightly, just enough for the slightest amount of pain. When he walked into you, you began to back up, allowing him to lead you to wherever it was he wanted you. 
Sliding an arm around your waist, he leaned to swiped the other across his workbench, the tools and parts crashing and clattering on the hard floor. Hopefully Aaron didn’t come running to check things out because your panties were already being dragged down your legs. 
Biting your bottom lip, you slipped your feet from your sandals and stepped out of your underwear, watching with warm cheeks as Daryl lifted them to dangle between you. The center was darkened, drenched with your slick. Those electric blue eyes slid over to you while he twirled the garment in the air with his index finger. 
“Messy girl. C’mon then.” He let your panties fall and reached for your hips again, a squeak leaving your lips as he pushed you down onto his left thigh. “Wanna cum so bad, go ahead.” He smirked when your head tilted. He wanted you to ride his thigh? 
Daryl was patiently waiting you out, his grip firm but not guiding. You let your hips roll experimentally, watching him for affirmation. All you received was an arched brow. 
“But, Daryl—”
“But nothin’. You wanna cum, make it happen.”
You huffed, pouting. Maybe if you did as he asked, he’d fuck you until you saw stars. With that motivation in mind, you ground yourself down and thrust your hips forward, the rough denim grazing your clit just enough to make you jolt. It was easy to find a rhythm after that. 
“Atta girl. Gotta work for it.” He never moved, his leg steady and grip solid. You had to admit, it felt good. You likely couldn’t cum like that but it was a nice way to kickstart that fire low in your belly. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He cooed at you, chuckling when you whined in reply. “Feel good?”
“Uh huh.” You reached forward for those broad shoulders, holding tightly to help you balance when your thighs began to burn. You could feel the dampness you were leaving smeared over his jeans, the slick lessening the friction you so desperately needed. “Daryl.” 
“Nope. Can’t help ya, sunshine. Gotta learn your lesson. Them’s the rules.”
“But—but you’re gonna fuck me, right?” You didn’t stop grinding, your hands coming down to rest over his, silently pleading with him to take pity on you and help. When he stayed silent, you mewled and jutted out your bottom lip. “Right?”
“Ain’t nothin’ goin’ in that pretty pussy tonight.” The whine you responded with made his cock twitch but he resisted.
You were teetering on the edge, desperately alternating between bouncing and grinding, searching for that angle that would bring you relief. It felt so so good but left you a whimpering, blubbering mess. Maybe if you touched yourself, you could coax your orgasm to the surface. 
Your fingers barely brushed the tuft of hair above your slit before his hand left your hip to slap it away. Daryl tutted. “Nuh uh.”
“Oh, god, Daryl. I’m so close. I just need—”
“Ya should’a thought ‘bout that ‘fore ya acted out.” He held you steady, fingers digging into your flesh. Watching you work to bring yourself to climax had him straining against his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bend you over his bike and pound into you until you were screaming loud enough to worry the couple inside. But he wouldn’t. 
“Please, fuck! Please, Daryl!” Sweat was dampening your shirt, your breasts bouncing, nipples hard against the fabric. Dirty girl, you hadn’t worn a bra. Just for him. 
“C’mon, girl. That’s it. Look atcha, gettin’ yourself off on my thigh. Go on, make yourself cum. Ya don’t need me, right?”
“I need you. I need you, please!” You threw back your head, bringing up your hands to squeeze your breasts, pinch your sensitive nipples. Trying anything and everything to reach that precipice. Thankful he allowed you at least that stimulation. 
“So, so pretty like this. Ya’d like for me to fuck ya right now, wouldn’cha?”
“Yes! Fuck me, please!” Your hips were moving erratically, warmth and wetness seeping through the thick fabric to his skin. He was extremely close to giving you what you wanted. 
“Nope. Just look too good like this.” Each sound, each ah ah ah was driving him crazy but he just didn’t have it in him to stop you. You were a vision. Your hair falling around your face, damp strands sticking to your neck. Tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. Your plump lips open with the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard spilling past them. If he wasn’t careful, he’d cum in his jeans just watching you. 
There was a drawn out moan that broke off into a whine. Your hands dropped to Daryl’s forearms, nails biting into his skin while his fingers continued to hold firm to your hips. 
“I can’t, Daryl! I can’t!”
“Yeah, ya can.” You rutted against him hard and fast, finally finally feeling that dam within you beginning to break. Gritting your teeth, you rode him hard, actually managing to rock him against the bench. “C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me.”
The coil within you snapped, pulses of pleasure driving hard straight down to your throbbing clit. The wanton moan of the archer’s name ended with a shout, strong hands grounding you as you writhed and shook, soaking his thigh with your essence. 
You came down slowly, hips still jerking sporadically from the overstimulation of being pressed against his leg. At your content hum, he released you and let you fall forward against him. 
“Gonna let me work in peace now?” He chuckled when you had to force yourself to lean back far enough to blink at him with heavy lidded eyes. 
“Mhm.” With the laziest of smiles, you stood, covering your mouth when your movement revealed the mess on his jeans. “I should go get you another pair. You can change out here and I can take those—”
“What makes ya think we’re done here?”
Your mouth snapped shut, brows raising. Daryl stood and guided you to sit on the workbench with gentle fingers on your biceps. You didn’t have a chance to question him before he started working at his belt. It was then you noticed the prominent bulge in his jeans. 
“Gotta teach that mouth a lesson too.”
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love-jelly · 4 months
Text
THE VALIDATION.
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sypnosis: precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.
contents: tutor!choso, sub!choso, dom!reader, pet names (choso: cutie, baby, bubs, darling, pretty prince, good boy | reader: mommy), dirty talk, hair pulling (m!receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (does this even count idk), choso is desperate for some puthy (YOUR puthy), overstimulation (m!receiving), praise kink
word count: 1.4k+
a/n: based on this idea by @hotlinemurder ! tysm to maki for blessing my tl with this idea and i hope i did it justice !! hope u enjoy !! minors dni. ageless / blank / minor blogs will be blocked if seen interacting!
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choso tutors you every wednesday and friday afternoon from twelve pm to two pm every other week in the university library. a timeline you both come up with to nicely accommodate both of your schedules- him with his studies and you with your parties and whatnot. not to say you don’t focus on school, you do, life’s just easier when you can ignore all the pending assignments that are due at 11:59pm and all the teachers that seemingly have it out for you.
but choso is sweet, unnecessarily so even when you try to quietly yawn at his rambling that seems to bounce off the walls of the study room you two rented. even when you start doodling in your notebook, when you’re supposed to be writing down what he’s trying to teach you. life is just more fun when you let go, something you’re sure choso doesn’t know how to do when you don’t show him how to.
choso is a straight-a student and tutor, teaching you topics better than any of your professors on the surface. but when you have him in the palm of your hand, with actions that are only a little suggestive? you’ll surely have him fucking you better than any of them too.
a few taps from the tip of a black pen on your notebook shakes you from your thoughts, choso gazing at you with concern evident in his eyes and a cute frown.
“you do know midterms are two weeks away, right?” the concerned lilt in his tone is cute but not cute enough for you to really care, knowing you would rather be doing anything else than studying calculus four.
you look up and smile apologetically, “sorry, cutie, but partial differentiation of functions is not on my mind right now.”
he blushes softly at the pet name but holds his ground, “but you didn’t come to any lecture last week. these questions are gonna be on the exam, you have to know them.”
you stand up, going behind him to undo the two buns he keeps atop his head, “‘s alright, i have you, don’t i?” the locks of hair unravel like a pretty present as you massage the mop around, evening the spread of his pretty brown hair.
“that’s why i’m trying to teach you right now but you won’t even listen,” he softly whines in slight protest, distracted by the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair.
“i have a better idea- don’t you wanna have fun?” you twist yourself onto his lap, thighs fitting atop his as you straddle him. you twist your hand into a fist to garner a hold of his hair, pulling it back to lift his head to expose his pretty wide eyes.
“b-but-” he stammers, moving his head to the side to avoid your eye contact, not sure what excuse to use. you roughly pull his hair again to force him to face you again, a mewl falling from his lips.
you cut him off with a soft voice, “you want me to stop?” you press chaste kisses to his jaw and throat, leaving an especially hard one on his adam’s apple, a soft sigh slipping out from his mouth.
he groans, unable to find an answer in his now-muddled brain. “please-”
precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.
“please what, baby?” you smile lightly, knowing he would always give into pleasure, give into you. 
“please make me cum,” his usual honeyed, deep voice is exchanged for a separate breathy, higher tone that’s reserved for your ears and your ears alone.
“all you had to say, bubs,” you lightly grind your core to his hardening, twitching cock, that seemingly was begging for some sort of stimulation that could help relieve the hot bubble that was forming in his lower belly.
something between a whine and a groan erupts from choso’s lips as you go in for another kiss, you swallowing up his sounds by connecting your lips.
“we’re in the library, darling. remember to be quiet, ‘kay?” you remind him with a sweet smile as if you weren’t the reason for his loud volume.
he whimpers, “s-sorry, mommy, please-” he chokes out, “c-can i put it in?”
you reach down and pull his cock out of his pants and give it a few jerks. “do you deserve it?”
choso scrunches his face in pleasure, eyes shut and lips wet with both his and your saliva. he manages to open his eyes a bit and breathe out, “yes- yes i do- please?” his brown orbs plead with you for stimulation- for pleasure- for mercy.
“put it in then, show me how desperate you are for me,” his fingers are fumbling around, pushing your skirt up and realizing you’re wearing his favorite lacy violet panties underneath, he groans quietly to himself admiring the wet spot on it for a second. set back on his prior mission, he pushes his cock into your panties, creating a large wet spot as he humps the scratchy material to find pleasure.
“my pretty prince, right? look at you, you just wanna get off, huh? i’ll let you use my pussy- so you better use it well.”
“thank- you, mommy,” he mewls softly before aligning himself with your hole. he quickly shoves it in- catching you off guard, forcing a hiss and moan from your lips that he quickly shuts up with a kiss that you dominate early on.
his hands have you in a vice-like grip that’s sure to leave bruises, holding you a few inches above his own body as his hips uncontrollably rut up into you, balls slapping on your buttcheeks.
“f-fuck- what would your parents say about this, huh? their p-precious little boy so desperate to cum inside of a woman?” you bite his earlobe, moaning directly into it, only serving to make choso’s dick impossibly harder.
“do-don’t-”
“don’t what, bubs? don’t tell your parents? but with how much you c-cum inside me, won’t we have to tell them when we have a b-baby?” you chortle in his ear, his face tinted red from embarrassment but still rutting up into you, desperately searching for release that feels so close with the way you’re clenching around him, still wanting to cum inside you as if it was his lifes goal.
“c-can’t- please- please let me cum inside.” he nearly sobs, his orgasm feeling like it’s approaching.
“don’t stop, don’t stop. you’re doing so so good for me, bubs. keep going- just a bit more, you’re almost there, baby,” you whisper into his ear, keenly aware of the effect your words have on him.
“please, please, please- let me-” 
“you wanna cum? you wanna cum in me? give your parents a grandbaby? you want that huh- you want your parents to know what a dirty whore you are for wet pussy- my wet pussy? come, come inside me.” your filthy words spill out of your mouth and into his flushed ear like whispers of an eternal bliss in hell.
a chain of “yes”s leave his lips in needy murmurs as he nears his climax. his thrusts into you become shorter and sloppier as you hug him closer, quieting your own moans by putting forth effort in marking up his neck.
a long, languid moan is ripped out from choso’s chest with his hips still rutting into you, albeit slower now, steadily fucking his cum into you, although his cock is still semi-hard. “let me- let me make you cum, please?”
you breathily laugh, “keep fucking me, baby, i’m almost there.”
choso continues his actions through strained movements, overstimulating himself, still roughly but quietly moaning through his own pain and pleasure. pulling you closer and staring at your pretty face filled with pleasure, he seems to be mesmerized by every feature on your face that contorts to prove that you were finding as much bliss in this as he is.
“fuck, i’m close, baby. gonna make me cum? make me cum,” choso quickens his pace, grunting in exertion. with a hand slapped over your mouth to hold back your shriek, you cum, spasming around his cock. fucking you through your orgasm, choso whines. he was so focused on making you cum that he didn’t realize he was nearing his second orgasm and with one last thrust into you, he spills a second load into you.
“good boy, choso. you did so well,” your validation makes him feel tingles all around his stomach, butterflies awakening in his stomach.
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if you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or consider following me!
a/n: honestly i hate this n i felt like it was WAY too fast paced. BUT i promised a fic so here's one amidst my busy schedule :') life stop fucking me in the ass when :/ thank you for reading !!!
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