#lmk x chubby reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oharaslover · 2 months

Note

hear me out, we already know Miguel is probably touch-starved, but imagine him being really touch-starved. Maybe the reader is a baker or smth so she's naturally sweet (wink wink nudge nudge) and maybe just a little chubby. Miguel is always shy about asking readers for small things, like kisses and hugs, but she's really nice about it.

One day, Miguel has had a bad day and goes over to the reader's house for cuddles and is very grumpy about it, which makes reader kinda surprised and flustered to see how demanding he is about it. But as he's cuddling with her, he is very touchy per se and won't stop kneading parts of reader's thighs and shmoobis, which makes her really flustered but she doesn't want to ruin Miguel's moment

this could be smutty but fluff and the end because Miguel deserves a little sweetness in his life

sweetest bite

pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader

contents: thigh fucking, nipple play, mating press, miguel being a munch (as per usual), oral (m), improper use of frosting, aftercare(ish)

author’s note: i’m so behind on requests i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll get to work on them 😭 i hope you still enjoy this though. trying sum new with the whole layout so lmk your thots 🥸

word count: 6.8k (yeah idk how to explain this one chief)

You were the sweetest thing miguel allowed himself to indulge in. Well, you and your pastries. He'd gotten so used to sacrificing his happiness for the better of the multiverse, of sacrificing everything that he had to give just to make sure that it stayed intact. But, he couldn't stay away from the little baker that set shop on 11th street in Nueva York.

"You should go and visit this little shop I found a couple days ago. The empanadas are to die for," Jess had told him after the last batch at the HQ hadn't been up to par with his standards. He wasn't expecting much out of his visit, the most he was hoping for was decent replacement for the botched empanadas and a cup of coffee. After all, Jess had never strayed him in the wrong direction in terms of food.

The scent of cinnamon and a pinch of vanilla filled up his nostrils as he walked into the shop, the aroma providing a homely feeling. It didn't compare to the other shops scattered around the city, the ones who smelt like stale bread and probably had rats scattering around in this back. Every single space from the shop looked clean, the white floors beneath his feet almost showing his reflection.

No, this was one was nice. From the peonies that you had on a vase at the front desk to the sheer decoration of the walls, a couple paintings scattered across the pink and white walls. Nothing looked out of place, everything seemed to coordinate perfectly. The lofi music playing in the background only added to the atmosphere, putting him in a more relaxed mood than he originally was. His jaw unclenched and his muscles were slack, a sense of calmness rushing through him.

The people inside also seemed to have a silent understanding that the atmosphere was supposed to be relaxing, conversations exchanged in light whispers. It was a nice change of pace from the usual bustling streets of Nueva York, almost like a place where time seemed to stop completely. A place that was an escape from the city, a safe haven of sorts. It provided him with a sense of normalcy he wasn't even aware that he wanted.

He normally didn't spend time appreciating the aesthetic of a place given how busy his schedule was, but he could see the appeal of this little shop. He almost regretted not finding this shop earlier, it provided with more relaxation than he'd ever find at the empty tables of the HQ cafeteria. There was nobody here that knew him, nobody there to avoid his presence or criticize his actions. Everyone just regarded him like he was one of their own, continuing on with their conversations.

What Jess had failed to mention to him before he came here is that the owner would be so enthralling. You weren't doing much apart from tapping something into the register yet you still managed to capture his attention. He wanted to look away to avoid coming off as a creep but his eyes seemed to defy his brain's instructions, keeping his attention solely for you. The chatter in the background died to a low hum as he watched you hand a paper bag to the man in front of you.

"How's your wife and kids?" He couldn't help but be taken aback when the question slipped from your lips, surprised at the gesture. Most of the people in Nueva York were so consumed in their own lives that they didn't bother to remember much about anybody else, much less ask any questions that didn't serve them an individual gain. Even with his enhanced hearing, all he could focus was on what you were saying like a siren luring him in.

He could tell from the little smile on your face that the man was engaging in the conversation, your hands struggling to keep up as you talked with him. He'd overheard you mention something about packing in a few extra cookies for the kids, his heart swelling at a gesture that wasn't even meant for him. You and the man kept talking for about another minute before he told you goodbye and you waved at him as he departed the shop. Miguel was next in line, but he felt his feet stuck to the ground like quicksand.

He was so enticed by the sight of you, the way your eyes illuminated under the white lights. Lighting that would normally make someone appear sickly only seemed to accentuate your features out to him even more. "Next, please," your voice came out like sheer honey to his ears, snapping him out of the trance he was in. He took two steps forward, coming up to the register. He'd spent so much of time simply just looking at you that he hadn't even bothered to look over the menu. You didn't annoyed at him for holding up the line, your finger tapping against the marble countertop as you waited for his decision.

"I'll get two of your conchas and three of your empanadas with a hot roast coffee," he finally spoke up after a while, looking over from the menu to you. "You want the empanadas made out of flour or corn?" You inquired after typing the order into the register. "I’ll get corn, please," he pulled out his wallet as he spoke, handing you much more than the amount showing up on the screen. You tried to give him back the change, but it only ended up in the pink tip jar you had set next to the register.

"Can I get a name for your order, please?" You asked him before he had the chance to walk away, his footsteps coming to a stop before he turned over to face you. "Miguel," he responded before he finally stepped away, leaving you feeling flustered and confused. The way his voice sounded to your ears was something out of pure sin, a part of you wanting to indulge in that as much as possible. But you refused to make a big deal out of the mildly handsome customer, refused to make a big deal out of the fleeting glances he shot your way and the way he also seemed to feel a spark between the two of you when your hands touched.

You could feel his stare as you kneaded the dough, but you didn't seem to mind it all that much. It seemed more like he was analyzing you, the way that you moved rather than something predatory. You had a small radio set up in the back to liven up the mood while you were baking, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the salsa song playing. You hummed along to the beat, setting the pan in the oven. You leaned against the counter as you waited, all the other goods pretty much set for another couple hours.

"Miguel!" You called out, watching as he got off the spot he was leaning on and walked over to you. He thanked you once you handed him the paper bag, his fingertips almost seeming to purposely want to touch yours this time around. Nope. Not gonna make a big deal out it. You forced yourself to look away from him as he stepped away from the counter, plastering a smile on your face as you greeted the next customer coming in. Greta. You'd taken the time to learn these people's names and learn what it is that they tended to get just to give them a sense of being seen.

The first bite of the concha had been delectable, a low moan escaping from his lips as he savored the taste of the warm cinnamon and vanilla blending together. He hadn't had a concha like this one since he took a business trip to Mexico. While Nueva York was quickly adjusting to fit the needs of the diversifying population, it didn't mean that every restaurant provided that taste of home he was longing for. Most of them just felt like a cheap replacement of the real thing, the taste usually bland and lacking seasoning.

But now he had an entirely different dilemma on his hands. a part of him wanted to eat the concha slowly, savor every bite of the treat while the other part of him wanted to scarf it down as quickly as he could. Eventually he lost the battle against his self control, eating the two conchas and one of the empanadas. Every part of this evening had surpassed his expectations, the empanadas being more than 'decent.' He would normally be more careful in the way that he ate, but now, crumbs were making their way down his black shirt and to his pants. Yet, he could seem to care less.

"How'd you like the treats? I haven't seen you around before so I'm assuming it's your first time," You asked him as he stepped up to the register, your head tilting back slightly to look at the man in the eyes. The afternoon sunlight coming from the door accentuated his eyes, almost making them look like a melting pot of rubies. While your shop was met with various different people everyday at almost every hour, you knew that you couldn't forget him even if you tried. His name still rang like a melody throughout your head.

"Liked them so much i'm planning on buying another concha," he told you, sliding one hand into the pocket of his pants to take his wallet out. "I'm glad you liked them so much. That'll be two dollars," you told him, taking the money from him and setting it in the cash register. You waved at him as he left, convincing yourself that the look back he gave after stepping out of the shop hadn't been for you. Even if you really wished that it would've been. All you could do was just hope that he would come back again soon.

Going back to work had proven to be more of a struggle than he originally thought, His mind replaying the small moments between the two of you. Your hand grazing against his as you handed him the cup of coffee. The smile that seemed to be just a little bit wider when directed towards him. He could still feel his hand tingling from the spot where you'd touched him, your touch electrifying him every way possible.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself as he opened up one of the files on the monitors, the words blurring together despite his best efforts to maintain his focus. He felt like a fool, being in his 30s and obsessing over somebody in this manner like he was a school boy. Despite the fact that he felt like a fool, he couldn't help the smile that threatened to overcome his features at just the mere thought of seeing you again in that little pink apron. All he could do was munch on the extra concha that he'd bought, his mind constantly wandering back to you.

Miguel hadn't attempted to be in a relationship after finding his ex and his father sleeping together, the experience being enough to traumatize him for this lifetime and the next. He'd given up on being a romantic, of going through the motions of learning what a woman's favorite color was and gifting her flowers that ended up wilting by the hour. He'd engaged in a few hookups from time to time, though he only ended up feeling like an asshole afterwards. They expected his call back, only to have their text not even go through. But.. he wasn't interested in you for that.

Sure, he could admit it to himself that you were probably one of the most beautiful women he's laid eyes on. The way your hips moved in the shop was hypnotic, the small movement making all sorts of domestic thoughts run through his head. But he wanted to know what it was that made you tick, what made you laugh, what it is that made you cry. He didn't see you as a prize to gain, but rather as something that he wanted to treasure. Someone that he could see himself coming home to after a long day of work.

The week following his first visit, he'd been buried under mountains of work. Whether it be misplaced files, a sudden surge of anomalies popping up, or just the daily Spider-Man activities that he was tasked with. He'd been looking for a spare opportunity to go back into your shop, maybe ask for your number this time around, but that opportunity usually got shot down with the amount of work he had due. He'd only managed to get a couple glimpses of you when he happened to swing by your store a couple times, his memory saving the moment like an sd card.

He'd managed to get a few moments to himself on a Friday, leaving immediately to go to your bakery before he got stopped by one of the members. He'd barely had one interaction with you and he was already starting to feel depraved having to go a couple days without talking to you. The bell placed on top of the door announced his arrival as he came in, your attention shifting from the counter you were restocking over to the door. You looked as beautiful as every time he's had the pleasure of seeing you.

"Thought you might've found another bakery to go to, Miguel. After you complimented my conchas too," you spoke first, giving him a teasing smile as he approached the counter. "There's no other bakery that would be able to size up to this one. I just got busy with work is all," he knew that you were just teasing him, but he still wanted to explain himself to you. Though he wasn't sure if you'd even thought about him that much. but surely you had, since you noted his absence. He was struggling the same as you were not to let these little gestures go to his head.

"Do you want what you got last time?" You asked him, his heartbeat thundering against his own ears. It was like you were trying to kill him now. He could understand why so many people came to your bakery now, for that feeling of being seen by you. Of getting that sense of meaning something to someone, well at least enough for you to remember their order. "Make it three conchas instead of two this time, please," he responded, once again giving you way much more than the amount had totaled out to be before going to wait for his order.

All he knew was that he had to have more than the complimentary conversation with you, but he couldn't figure out how to approach it. "The shop isn't too busy, what would you say to having a cup of coffee with me?" He mustered up the courage to ask you, his gaze almost burning into your soul as he waited for an answer. He hoped that he wouldn't push you away with this sudden offer, hoping that it hadn't been too forward on his part. He'd meant for it as a friendly outing for you to relax a while, but he wouldn't be able to deny the fact that he was already thinking of how to ask you on a date.

You looked around the shop to find that it was indeed empty, only a couple people talking amongst themselves left. Even if someone walked in, you had another employee that would be able to assist them. "Sure, let me just go hang up my apron and I’ll go join you," you finally spoke up after taking a couple seconds to consider, turning around to mask the excitement threatening to overcome your body. You slid off your apron and set it to the side, getting yourself a cup of coffee before walking over to the booth Miguel was sitting at. It almost felt ridiculous to admit to yourself that you were able to now find him in every room that he stepped in with ease.

"How long have you been a baker for?" He asked you after taking a bite of his concha, wiping away the crumbs that lingered onto his white shirt. "I've been baking for some time now, since I was in like middle school? I used to practice with an easy bake oven when I was younger before evolving into actually edible things," you shared with him, your eyes practically lighting up at the prospect of getting to talk about something that meant a lot to you. Conversation flowed easily enough between the two of you, an exchange of questions being asked from both sides.

You looked up over to the door when you heard the bell ringing, the second wave of customers walking in. As much as you would've liked to continue talking with him, you knew that your one employee wouldn't be able to handle the rush by themselves. "It was lovely talking to you. but I have to get going back to work," you stood up from the table as you spoke, grabbing the empty cup of coffee. Before you got the chance to walk away though, Miguel wrapped his arm around your wrist. Not tight enough for it to hurt, but certainty enough for it to make you stop in your tracks.

"I want to go on a date with you. I'd really like to keep talking with you, if that's something you wanted," he told you, his grip around your wrist loosening before eventually letting go. You grabbed a napkin from the corner of the table and a pen from your pocket, hastily scribbling out your number on it. "Just text me and we can work something out. I want to keep talking to you too," you responded before you went back to work, though your mind wasn't too much on the baked goods as much as it was on Miguel for the rest of the evening.

Your first date with Miguel was something that you'd never forget, the way he looked over at you every time you had something to share about yourself or the way that he let some of his walls down to let you pass through. But the way that his lips felt against yours was the most memorable part of the evening, your apartment lights just illuminating enough for you to make out the shape of his face. Every date following that one was a moment of absolute bliss, time seeming to stop whenever you two were together.

You were at the dining table when he came back from work, your brows furrowed in concentration as you mixed the bowl in your hands. The sweet aroma of vanilla reminded him that he was home again. The light at the end of a tunnel. it almost got him out of the mood that he was in. Almost. The exhaustion and annoyance from the day managed to maintain their claws on him, his footsteps trudging up the stairs as he went to change. He deactivated his suit, pulling a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tee over himself before going back downstairs.

You'd heard the door open but you were surprised to find that Miguel didn't bother to greet you the same way he used to. 'Cariño, ya llegue,' he'd say after a long day at work, (honey i’m home) Usually taking a seat across from you at the dining table just to hear you talk about your day. You figured that he just needed some space, that he'd come to you if he wanted that sense of intimacy from you again. You busied yourself with mixing in the dry ingredients along with the wet ones, almost ready to put the batter in the oven.

"Missed you so bad, hermosura," you heard from behind you, large arms wrapping around your stomach while his head rested on your shoulder. You were about to tell him that the sentiment was mutual when you felt his hands making their way up to your breasts, kneading them in his hands. He let out a contented sigh as he felt your body mold underneath his hands, having you turn into putty at just the smallest touch. He'd never been this touchy with you before, well he'd never been the one to start off this type of contact.

As much as he liked the feeling of your lips molding against his, the feeling of having your body pressed against him with every hug that he gave you, he never asked for it. He was just.. too shy to even try to start it off. He figured that it would come off as something weird, that his inexperience towards having intimate moments would be shed into the light. He knew that you wouldn't make fun of him for that, but a part of him couldn't help but be wary. He usually just tended to wait until you came up to him, wrapping your arms around him as you sought out for the comfort that only he could provide.

You felt your body being ignited into flames from the way he was touching, your body a manual that he had read thousands of times before. He knew everything that would turn your little head off to anything other than him. You didn't want to stop him now that he was feeling comfortable enough to initiate contact with you, but you'd almost mixed in a spoonful of salt rather than sugar. You willed yourself to finish up with the batter, your hands shaking as you brought the electric mixer down to the bowl.

"Miguel, lemme focus on finishing up with this batch and we can do whatever you want after that," you tried to negotiate with him, the plea landing on deaf ears as his hands travelled down to the expanse of your ass. Your back was arching instinctively, reacting solely to his commands. Sometimes it felt like he had more control of your body than you ever did, every little thing that he did serving a purpose to arouse you even further. He squeezed gently, his hands coming up to rest on your hips as he nestled his head into the crook of your shoulder.

"Don't let me interrupt you. Sigue con tus pastelitos e ignora mis caricias," his voice dropped about an octave as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to your ear. (keep at it with your cupcakes and ignore my caresses) Surely he must've known that what he was telling you to do was pointless. He knew the effect that he had on your body, knows the effect that he's having on you at this moment. You let out a small sigh of relief once the batter had finished mixing in, pouring it in slowly into the pan. You stepped off to the side, putting the pan inside the oven before turning to face Miguel.

"Let me just have your thighs, I won't ask for more," he murmured, his hands coming down to your thighs while his thumbs rubbed small circles on them. At your approval, he went over and sat down at the dining table, his legs spreading to give you access to sit down. He looked like a king sitting down on his throne, his large thighs taking up most of the space on the chair. Almost like he demanded respect. His thighs flexed with every movement, your legs moving on their own accord to get closer to him.

"You have approximately," you started off, your eyes shifting over to the small clock on the kitchen counter, "ten minutes." He let out a small chuckle, lifting his hips up to slide his sweatpants just underneath his balls. He'd made it a habit of going commando underneath his suit, the habit following into his daily attire as well. His cock was already starting to leak precum onto his stomach despite the fact you two hadn't done anything too extreme yet. "That's okay. I only needed nine anyways."

You sat down in between his legs, squeezing your thighs together while the tip of his cock prodded at the underside of your legs. You felt the chair creaking underneath you as he thrusted his hips into your thighs. "Would've done this sooner if I would've known it felt this good. Love your thighs so much, mami," despite the fact that he tried to keep up with his dominant persona, he would do anything if it meant he got to have you like this again.

His hands travelled up his your shirt, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Your back was flush against his chest as your mouth slightly opened, heavy breaths escaping from your lips. His slick coated the insides of your thighs, wetting them in his essence. Your hand went down to where the tip of his cock was poking through, your thumb rubbing small circles alongside the tip.

"Close your legs a little more for me mami."

"Yeah, just like that," he managed to get out through labored breaths, your thighs squeezing his cock in a similar way that your pussy would. You felt his mouth making its way down your throat, nibbling on the sensitive spots that would have you squirming. His touch was everywhere except for where you needed him the most, your desperation towards the situation growing even further. For someone who'd only agreed to thigh fucking, you seemed to be regretting it already.

You felt your slick leaking down from your folds down to the thin material of your panties, one of your hands reaching down to alleviate the tension building inside you. You hadn't even managed to make it to the waistband before Miguel was already pulling your fingers away, holding it with his other hand. "So greedy. Only I'm allowed to please that little pussy, remember," he warned you, though his voice carried no actual sense of danger to it given how needy he sounded. He made it a point to be the only one to please you, not your own fingers and certainly not anybody else's fingers.

He was rutting into your thighs at an erratic pace, no sense of stability as he felt his balls start to tighten up with every second that your warm thighs enveloped him. That was until he heard the loud 'RING' from the countertop. "No te pares. I'm almost there," he tried to speak over the sound of the timer's ring but you were already standing up by the time he'd finished speaking. (don’t stand up) You wiped away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead, taking a couple deep breaths to get your breathing back to normal. "What happened to only needing nine minutes?"

He let out a small huff as he pulled his sweatpants back on, staying seated at the dinner table. Miguel wanted nothing more than to take you right now, but he was willing to be patient for a couple more minutes. You bent over to take the cupcakes out of the oven, the scent of vanilla hitting your nose instantly. You almost jumped at the feeling of miguel's hands rubbing your ass through your panties if it hadn't been for the fact you had a hot pan in your hands. You placed the pan down, taking the cupcakes out of it and setting them on a plate to get them ready for the frosting portion.

"Ah fuck," you trembled out as you felt Miguel's breath fan against your wet cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Already so wet and I haven't even touched her yet," he murmured, spreading your folds with two of his fingers. He let a globe of spit trail from your ass down to your cunt, feeling his cock strain against his sweatpants. He could feel your clit pulsing underneath his fingertips, your body betraying you when you said you wanted to wait. You wanted this as much as he did. If not, maybe even more.

You pushed your hips back onto his face as he pushed his tongue into your wet cunt, feeling your slick coat every single one of his tastebuds at the contact. He knew how proud you were of the baked goods you made, but none of them would ever compare to the taste of your essence. The frosting on the cupcakes started to come out lopsided as you tried to squeeze it on, your hands shaking every time you tried to bring the pipe up to them. "Don't stop," you moaned out, eventually just giving up on the task of trying to keep frosting the cupcakes. The perfectionist in you couldn't stand seeing the sight of the uneven plaster of frosting.

Miguel ate out your cunt like he was a starving man, the task messy as he spat into it and pushed his tongue inside you. Your slick mixed with his spit, the taste of you almost making him delirious. You gripped the countertop tightly, your eyes fluttered shut as you basked in everything that Miguel was giving you. His tongue swirled around your clit in small circles, the sudden stimulation having your toes curling and your eyes seeing stars. You turned around to look at him, your slick coating majority of his chin while some of it dribbled down to his shirt. His eyes were tightly shut as he focused on the task at hand, almost seeming more into it than you were.

You brought your hand up to his hair, tugging at the roots as you pushed him closed to your pussy. He'd vocalized before about how much he liked the mixture of pain and pleasure, a moan vibrating into your cunt as a response. You felt yourself getting closer to that climax, Miguel’s tongue continuing its motions on your clit while his thick fingers opened you up to take his cock later on. You let out an exasperated sigh when you felt him pull away from you just as you were about to cum, though that was quickly shut down when he pressed his lips onto yours.

You got down on your knees, wet kisses marking his tan skin as you made your way down his stomach. You looked over at him, the sight in front of you truly something to behold. His head was lolled back, half-lidded eyes as he met your gaze. His chest heaved with every breath that he took, growing heavier as he felt your lips starting to make their way down his happy trail. He'd stopped bothering to shave it after noticing how much you liked it, the way you licked your lips every time his sweatpants clung a little too low on his hips.

Though his cock was twitching with need right in front of you, painfully erect, you decided to take your time. You kissed his inner thighs, occasionally marking him the same way he'd do to you. Your fingernails raked their way down his thighs, the muscles tensing underneath your touch. You wanted to tease him just as much as he'd teased you earlier, wanting some type of comeback after your ruined orgasm. You delivered a couple more kisses before making your way to his cock, pressing a kiss on the reddened tip.

“Hand me that bag of frosting, please," your voice came out uncharacteristically seductive to your own ears. You'd grown so used to being the sweet girl at the bakery that you hadn't expected yourself to even be a seductress. Miguel reached over to grab the pipe with vanilla frosting inside, handing it over to you. You squirted a little bit of the frosting onto his shaft, setting the pipe aside before leaning in. Your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue licking the stripe of frosting up before pulling away. "Think you're gonna kill me, little minx."

Miguel's hands went down to the sides of your head as you took him in your throat, soft moans escaping from his lips. Spit dribbled down the side of his shaft, your hand wrapping around it as you worked it up and down. Though your hand was smaller than his, he enjoyed the feeling of having you jerk him off. Your touch felt more delicate than his own, which tended to be a series of harsh thrusts just to get a quick orgasm. Your mouth came down to his cock again, taking him in much deeper than last time.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to make up for what your mouth couldn't reach, both working in tandem. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in deeper, willing the muscles in your throat to relax while you did so. "That's it, taking me so well. Nadie me lo chupa mejor que tu," he praised you as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

As much as he wanted to cum inside your mouth and see the way that you struggled to sometimes keep his heavy load inside, he wanted nothing more than to cum inside your pussy beforehand. He pulled you off as the height of his peak, watching your eyes flicker over to his in confusion. You were pretty sure you were doing everything that he wanted you to do from his reactions, the way his moans just so freely escaped from his mouth.

"You didn't do anything wrong. just want to cum inside you before anything else," he assured you after seeing the expression of your face, helping you up from the floor. He wiped away the precum mixed in with your spit from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, holding it against your lips. He watched as your tongue darted out before enveloping his finger into your mouth. The way your tongue wrapped around it was heavenly, your eyes shutting as you cleaned off his finger.

Miguel went over to the sink and ran a paper towel under cold water, cleaning any remnants of the frosting that might've been left behind. The last thing the both of you needed was for you to get a UTI as a result from this encounter. He came back over to you, kissing your cheek and muttering some apology about the cupcakes. Not that you cared about them anyways, all you could think about was Miguel having his way with you. He grabbed your hand and intertwined with his, leading you out of the kitchen and out into the living room.

Miguel led you over to the couch, raising your knees up to your chest. You placed your hands underneath your legs, watching as Miguel gave himself a couple languid strokes before slowly pushing his cock inside. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned out as he felt your walls fluttering against him, your cunt stretching to adjust to him. Your mouth was parted in a 'o' shape as he pushed his cock even further, your wetness coating his shaft with every delicious inch that he pushed inside.

He loved looking down at you in this position, at how your face contorted into one of pleasure as the sting from the stretch settled in. The way that your tits bounced in sync with every single one of his punishing thrusts. He loved every single part of you, even the parts that you found yourself complaining about at times. He wanted to drill into your head that you were desire embodied, that nobody would be able to compare to the way that you do. No one was even close to comparing to you in his eyes.

Your body was basically bent in half as you laid there to take every single inch that he had to offer, the tip of his cock bulging against your tummy. "Feel how deep I am in you, mami?" He murmured, pressing his hand down where he was at before retreating his cock in one swift motion. The loss was quickly replaced when he thrusted back inside you, relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him like a vice.

His heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust that he made, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the otherwise empty apartment. The loud squelch of your essence coating his cock added onto the symphony of sounds, moans escaping from the two of you as he started to get deeper with his thrusts. You felt filled up to the brim, yet it almost felt like you weren't getting enough. The desire you felt for Miguel wasn't something that was easily satiated, if anything it only grew more with the attention that he was giving you.

The hand that wasn't holding your legs came over to his arm, gripping it tightly for some kind of thing to tether you down to the moment. Your pussy clamped around him a vice, prompting him closer to his orgasm. He prolonged it as long as he could, reciting useless science facts inside of his head. An octopus has three hearts. Though his stamina was high enough to get hard after his orgasm, he didn't want to ruin the moment between the two of you by cumming prematurely.

One of his hands went down to your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves between his thumb and pointer finger. He rubbed small circles on it, his speed matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his forearm the harder that his thrusts got, the pain only serving to accentuate his pleasure. "Fuck. Pussy's practically milking me," he uttered, his voice coming out in a groan at the way you were squeezing around him.

Your legs dropped down from your chest, wrapping around his legs as you held him close to you. If he'd even fathomed the idea of pulling out beforehand, the idea was quickly removed from the forefront of his brain the moment you did that. "Cum in me, please," your voice came out whiny as you felt yourself getting closer to that release, your toes curling from every rub being given to your clit. "Cum with me."

His hand enveloped yours as he slid in and out of you with ease, his pace having no rhythm now that he was approaching his orgasm. His thrusts were erratic as he worked the two of you towards that cliff, his fingers gripping yours tightly as if you were a lifeline. Warm ropes of cum shot up your cunt, your walls coated in white up to the brim. His orgasm had prompted your own, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you creamed over his shaft.

Your release mixed with his to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, some of the liquid leaking out from your cunt. He stuffed it back in with the tip of his cock to the best of his ability, a moan escaping from your throat at the feeling of him sliding in once more. While you could usually match his stamina pretty well, it'd been days since you'd last had sex with him. You were starting to feel worn out from the physical strain he'd put your body through. You wouldn’t change this feeling of euphoria for anything else though.

Miguel slid his softening cock out of your cunt slowly, careful not to overstimulate you in the process. He leaned over and pressed a kiss on your forehead, wiping away the sweat from your forehead. "You did so good for me, lindura," he whispered in your ear, stroking your thighs in soft circles before standing up from the couch. "Stay there and I'll come back with some clothes."

You looked over at him and gave him a nod, your body falling limp on the couch as you felt an ache forming on your legs. You closed your eyes for a second, or what you'd assumed was a second, only to open them to see Miguel standing over you with a pair of pajama shirts and one of his t-shirts. "Try to sit up for me. You don't have to anything," he reassured you, getting to work on cleaning you up before dressing you after you'd sat up.

The two of you sat on the couch with a cheesy romance movie the two of you weren't watching, each holding a cupcake. His hand wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to his body as his hand lazily drew circles on the side of your stomach. "I see why you liked that thing with the frosting. It's pretty sweet," he noted after taking a bite from his cupcake, leaning over to grab some that was sitting on your nose for a while. You let out a small contented laugh, poking the side of his cheek. There was no other place that you'd rather be other than his arms at this moment.

taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02

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stsgooo · 5 months

Text

Subconscious Reassurance.

✩࿐ summary: even the strongest has dreams he longs to be reality.

warning(s): slight 236 spoilers, shibuya incident spoilers, mentioned death, poor coping mechanisms, lovesick!gojo, girldad!gojo, as usual not proofread (it’s 2 am give me a break). wc; 3.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x reader

a/n: keep seeing tiktoks about the lamp story and this came to me. it’s a shortie but i just wanted to get this out. also do we prefer the colorless manga panels or the ones like the above one? i was messing with filters on picsart so lmk :)

divider 1 | previous work | ao3

SATORU ARRIVED HOME EXACTLY 7 PM.

He knew it was true because that’s the time he always arrived. There was no need to glance at the clock or question anyone around him. He knew it was 7PM.

The sun was peeking through the curtains and basking your shared home in a golden hue. Warmth enveloped his very being as he closed the front door behind him. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t being touched by the sun, that wasn’t feeling the same feelings he did.

The sky outside was illuminated in a mixture of purples, reds, oranges, and pinks. A palate that could be implemented into his very soul and he’d smile in return.

“Daddy!”

The call was familiar and came exactly one minute after Satoru walked through the door.

Again, he didn’t need to glance, he just knew.

A smile blossomed on his lips and he crouched down to catch the little girl that jumped into his arms with a loud squeal. Her nose pressed into her cheek as she happily rambled about how much she missed him. A norm and a routine that he greeted happily with his own reassurances that he missed her infinitely more.

"Daddy," she whined, her tiny chubby fingers reaching up for his blindfold. "Can't see your eyes, daddy."

This happened every night after he arrived home. She would always frown and trace her nails over where his eyes would definitely be. Most of the time it was uncomfortable and, frankly, a little scary, but he always welcomed it with an overly dramatic gasp.

"Oh, sorry, daddy forgot!" He hooked his finger under the fabric and pulled it down to rest against his neck. Her eyes (which were his) met his and brightened considerably. "Is that better, Rie?"

Rie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Despite the aching behind his right eye, Satoru kept the blindfold off for Rie’s sake. She had always expressed her upmost displeasure for the item since she was a baby. Crying and crying until he finally pulled it off. It’d been a rough first few years trying to get used to pulling the thing off whenever he got home. But he’d grown accustomed to it.

“What’s mama up to?” Satoru asked softly, tracing his finger briefly over the bridge of Rie’s nose as she giggled.

The little girl swayed slightly in his arms. “Mama’s been working in the eating room—“ dining room, Satoru softly corrected with a smile, “—she put on on Yuki for me to watch while she worked.”

“Yuki, huh? Lucky you!” He playfully pinched her cheek which resulted in her swatting his hand with a resounding “daddy!” in protest. Satoru adjusted her on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Should we go bother mommy?”

Like usual, Rie enthusiastically nodded in response.

Poor you.

True to his routine, he made his way from the front door towards the dining room, loudly. He left no room for you to not hear him coming him and gave you ample opportunity to prepare for his and Rie’s interruption on your precious work (he swore you were almost as bad as Nanam— …. as… as…).

The smile on his lips didn’t falter as his mind trailed away from the forgotten name. What was forgotten obviously wasn’t entirely important. He enthusiastically turned the corner, arm thrown out as Rie squealed happily as his rather jerky movements.

You were as you always were. Responsible. In your usual space occupying your rightful position.

Despite the loud (dramatic) entrance he made, you did not react in anyway. Your eyes were glued to your screen as you furiously typed away a response to whoever got on your bad side today. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. In fact, this should’ve been around the time Gakuganji of Ya— someone of higher standing emailed you something that didn’t sit right with you. Even the appearance of your amazing and rambunctious husband didn’t seem to deter you from your mission.

Satoru pouted, huffing as he peacefully placed Rie down (the girl now more interested in the TV returning to her show), and crept closer to you. Still, you did not look away.

He leaned over, his chin hooked over his shoulder as he peeked over the words you were putting out into the world. Oddly, he couldn’t read any of the screen. He tried squinting your eyes and blinking a few times— nothing. It was more reminiscent of gibberish than any Japanese he knew. None of it seemed to stay in one place and it all smashed together to create a blob.

You knew how to read and write, he knew that much. Was it something with his eyes? He doubted it. But something wasn’t—

The laptop clicked close.

“You’ve never been one to take a hint, Satoru,” you turned your head to place a soft kiss against his temple in greeting. He could feel your tiny smile against his skin. The warmth of your lips. The coolness of your silvia left behind. His chest ached. He missed— missed? “Although, I knew that before I married you.”

He pushed away the mud in his mind and turned his head, placing a peck against your lips. Strawberries. You always had remnants of strawberries on your lips. Rie’s favorite fruit.

“I think it’s one of my many charming qualities.” He hummed.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a chaste kiss against his lips once again. “Charming is pushing it.” You patted his cheek. “It’s definitely an interesting characteristic.”

Satoru pouted. “You make it sound so unappealing.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

He snorted in response, standing to his full height and peeking at you from over his nose. “You know, you’re not innocent either. Thought you said the TV would rot her brain, now you’re putting it on to keep her distracted?” He spared a glance to where Rie was hanging off the couch, upside down, her eyes glued to the television.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Because she’s your daughter and has the self restraint of a puppy. I needed a hour to get some things done.” You pat the top of your laptop. “Sue me.”

Satoru smirked. “I just might for emotional damages.” He gestured towards the laptop with a vague hand. “What exactly had you typing up a storm?”

There was a brief wave of giddiness in his chest when he saw the look in your eyes darken. Passion. Anger. Protectiveness. There were so many things he loved about you. Adored you for. Made him sick to his stomach whenever he thought about it.

“Well, I got an email from —— about some work in Shibuya, but I told him I already checked it out and suffered for it. Well, guess what he said? ——— and ———— suffered too so I can’t complain much. Set me off a bit, had to give him a piece of my mind and remind him what happened.”

Satoru wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or he was just too awestruck by your beauty; but he swore that your voice simply stopped whenever you spoke names. As if your voice box couldn’t get it out. But you carried on like it was nothing. Your lips had even formed around the words that so desperately wanted to be out there, but were never uttered. You didn’t look panicked or disturbed. If anything, you looked normal. Just sipping from your capri sun that was definitely forced on you by Rie.

It was like he was the only one not hearing it.

It vaguely concerned him, but he was also Gojo Satoru. Sometimes weird things happened that had no explanation.

“But,” you continued once you swallowed down the fruit punch liquid with a twisted face. “I suppose I can’t really blame anyone for what happened. It was Halloween, we were all caught off guard. Some of us suffered for it more than others.”

Satoru, for the life of him, couldn’t recall what happened on Halloween. But he should. He had that overwhelming feeling that he really, really should.

Either way, he gave a nonchalant shrug, “Eh, my motto is that it’s always easier to forgive and forget.” He snatched the remainder of your capri sun and gave a loud slurp.

You grin, resting your chin on your cupped fingers. “I suppose so.” You eyed him warmly, then nodded to the chair next to you. Always warm. Always welcoming. “Now, what did you get up to today?”

Satoru groaned, flopping onto the seat with a creak. He placed the capri sun down to place his hands against his face. “Two specials grades in Iwate, one grade one in Kagawa, then three nasty things leeching off on the playground on the way home.” He knew he should feel exhausted. He usually did. But that day, this day, he did not. If anything, he felt well rested.

Odd.

You hum softly. “They’re overworking you, Satoru,” your tone is barely there. Your words could be missed if the house had any movement or loud noises. But it was just you and him. The soft background noises of your daughter. Always you and him. “They should recognize that you’re just a man. One day it’ll be too much. One day you’ll snap in half.”

Satoru frowned, finding the sudden shift in tone a little unsettling. “I’m the strongest, no need to worry.” He waved a passive hand in the air between you.

“I’ll always worry. It’s been my job to worry.” Your eyes moved towards Rie almost melancholic. “She’ll worry too, you know. She does worry. More than she should at 10.”

Satoru frowned deeper. “Eh…?” He blinked slowly, eyes sliding to Rie with confusion. 10? Was he crazy? Blind? Since when was the little girl sitting on the couch 10? Last he checked, she was six. It was 2012. Were you losing it on him? Was this your subtle way of telling him you’re spiraling again? “Baby, she is not—“

“I know you worry too. Think you’ve been worried about losing since the moment you got home.”

Losing? He’s never lost. Well, except those few times. But they didn’t count. Those were intentional loses.

Satoru was beginning to feel as though you both were having two different conversations. “Y/N, I’m not following.” He stated softly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you have to do tomorrow, Satoru?” You breezed through as if you knew where that was going. A pensive expression on your face now.

Again, he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Tomorrow? I…Well, I’m going to Shinjuku to… to…” To…what…? What was it he had to do? He could feel it deep in his chest. That ache. That unfamiliar emptiness that made him rub over his heart softly. There was something he was missing.

“Tomorrow’s going to be romantic,” You said wistfully, eyes distant as you sighed. “Well, it’s supposed to be.”

December 24th.

December 24th. So I don’t have to remember two different dates.

How romantic.

Satoru felt his gut churn. He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t explain it but everything felt so tight now.

“I’m not.. I don’t…?”

Why couldn’t he get words out. Why did he stare at you like that? Unmoving, unblinking? Why did his eyes collect with tears.

Why did you look so sad?

You reached out, taking his hand. It’s cold. It feels cold. Not like the usual warmth that envelopes him whenever you held him. Whenever you reached out from him.

You’re cold.

You take his hand. “Satoru, what’s happening tomorrow?”

Seriously, what is with you?

Satoru clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t sure why but he felt so unnerved. He felt like he’s been disillusioned. As if his world was crumbling. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand.

You’re cold.

You looked briefly disappointed in his response. “You’re not well. You’re trying to appear to be, but you’re not. She worries. She’s so worried. And you know it.” Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. Your cold thumb gently stroked against his bone, against the tears that were flowing— why was he crying?

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He didn’t feel tired. “I just need a nap.” He didn’t feel tired.

“Oh, Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you uttered it, barely audible. But it was enough to conjure up an earth shattering sob from his chest. A heartbroken tremble under your touch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You’re right here?” Confusion was clear in his tone and his expression as he stared back at you.

You just smiled sadly in response.

He shook his head. “You’re right here.” He prided a finger against your chest. Firm. But cold.

You tilted your head and blinked slowly at him.

Satoru wasn’t sure why, but he took in as deep breath. Like he couldn’t quite catch it in the first place.

“You didn’t— You’re right here!” He desperately clutched onto your hand, pressing your skin against his own. “You’re right here. This-This is real. This-This is you. Please. Please, this is you.”

You only stared sadly in response.

Satoru wasn’t sure what was happening. Why he was so panicked or why he felt so terribly sad— but he knew it was making him quiver and sob. Why? Why? Why did this all have to happen to you? Of all people had you been the one to suffer?

What suffering?

“I…” He felt breathless. Feather light. He felt like he had no control of his lips or his tongue. “Tomorrow I fight… Sukuna…?”

Sukuna? Since when? When did—

“Since before Shibuya. Since before Itadori Yuji.” You answered his thoughts.

Itadori Yuji. Satoru thought that name sounded familiar. A blank face appeared in his mind, the back of a pink hair head facing him. Itadori Yuji.

He felt like he was living someone else’s life. As if he were placed in some point in space where nothing bad could touch it.

But these feelings, these tears, this ache in his chest wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t safe from the darkness of the world.

“Nanami… Yaga… Nobara…” You uttered the names that made his ears ring. That made his muscles tense and his heart sputter to a catastrophic halt. “But still you dream of Suguru…. of me…. of the lives you desperately want to hold on to.”

Suguru… you…

Satoru’s lips quivered.

Suguru… you….

“Why?” You asked the million dollar question.

Breathless whispers against sweat slick skin. Endless touches of tense muscle. Hair hanging and tickling. Eyes sure and hardened with undoubted honesty.

Why? Satoru thought that question was dumb. Why would the earth dream to reach out for the moon and the sun?

He stared at you, big blue eyes glittering with shimmering tears. “I’m the strongest… I should’ve saved the ones I loved… I should’ve… I’m the strongest.”

To be whole. To be loved. To love.

You sigh softly. Sadly. “Satoru, you can’t save everyone.”

“But I could.”

“Obviously not.”

The words were final. Absolute. No doubt. And he supposed, a deep part of him knew, you were right.

But that other part of himself. The one that hated himself for what happened, for whatever happened, convinced him otherwise.

“You don’t—“

“Get it?” You raised an eyebrow at his blink. “I’m your subconscious. I’m your deepest, most personal thoughts. I get it.”

Satoru stared in return. “…huh?”

You pressed your lips together. “Satoru, you’re the strongest. But you don’t always have to be.” You whispered if. A nefarious secret between the both of you that couldn’t be touched. That couldn’t be shared outside of this setting. You scoot closer in your chair. You’re slotted between his legs. “There’ll come a time where you need to step back. To rest. And let those you’ve guided this far to do their jobs.”

Resting. Stepping back.

No one had ever spoken those words to him before. It was never a guarantee nor was it ever a possibility. He feared, even now, he couldn’t even dream about something like that.

Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?

Years later, Satoru didn’t know what to make of his words. But Suguru had always known him better, he supposed.

Distracted, he didn’t realize you had started to card your fingers through his hair, bringing his head against your shoulder. It was a blissful moment when he came to his senses. When he felt your fingers ghost his scalp. When he felt your lips brush against his temple.

“You should take a nap, you look tired.”

The moment the words left your lips, his eyes felt heavy and he felt exhausted. He hadn’t felt tired before. He would love to sleep. But…

“What about you?” He whispered, eyes unmoving from your face. He studied the bow of your lips. The softness and warmth of your eyes. The faint blush across your cheeks. The little wrinkles on your forehead. “If I close my eyes, you’ll be gone.”

“No,” you shook your head and placed your free hand against his rapidly beating heart. “I’ll be here.”

How cliche. He wanted to say. But he would take it. He’d take and savor any moment with you.

He took in a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you.” No hesitation. No doubt. How could this be a dream? Something of his own mind? He nuzzled into your neck with a small sigh. “Take care of her.”

Take care of her.

Satoru woke with a soft gasp.

He was not happy or surprised to find the ceiling of his dark room instead of the dining room.

The clock next to his bed illuminated 2AM in angry red outline. He’d been asleep for approximately 4 hours. And dreamt of you. Again.

His jaw clenched as he tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill over. You, angelic, in your rightful place typing away. That’s what you should be doing.

Instead, you were one of the first to die in Shibuya.

It’d been you, then Nanami, then Nobara, then whoever else.

She got caught up with Noritoshi in the tunnels, that Death Womb Painting kid tried to explain to Satoru when everyone else had been too distraught and nervous to reveal it themselves. She didn’t suffer.

It didn’t bring him comfort. Satoru was pretty sure it was a lie, but it still brought him no comfort.

It gave him all the more reason to make Kenjaku suffer.

December 24th.

Today was the day.

Almost two months since your death. Christmas Eve.

Satoru was pretty sure he was about to do the same. Embrace death for the sake of others.

He could look around, tell all of them that he’d win, but there was that growing inkling that this was mounting up against him. That Sukuna— Megumi— knew exactly what to do to get one up on him. He feared the unknown. The possibility this was it.

What would you say?

“Dad?”

Satoru’s eyes dragged from the ceiling and to the spot next to him.

Now 10, Rie was older and less rambunctious. But he blamed that partly on your death and his sudden sealing.

She had clung to him since he returned. Tears streaming down her face as she hugged him, begged him to never go again— she thought she’d lost him just like mama. (It’d been six years since he heard her call you mama.) And she slept in his bed. Said she couldn’t sleep otherwise. She’d curl up against him and he’d run his hands through her hair as he hummed a long forgotten lullaby to guide her to sleep.

Shoko said she needed this. Him.

Satoru knew she needed you.

“Rie, did I wake you?” He asked sympathetically.

“No,” surprisingly, it sounded like the truth. “I’ve been up.”

He frowned, “Why?”

There was a prolonged pause between them. A thick layer of hesitation passed and Satoru tensed up. What could she possibly be up for?

When he heard the small sniffle, his heart ached.

He sat up and drew her into his arms, holding her close as he pressed kisses against her head. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to die!” Rie sobbed immediately. “I don’t want you to fight stupid Sukuna! I just want you to stay here with me— I can’t lose you too!”

I can’t lose you too.

Satoru pressed his lips together as tears sprung to his eyes. “Rie, I’m not going to die.” Such sure words for a man who was worried over his own mortality only moments ago. Who had to be reassured by his subconscious image of his dead wife that it’s okay to lose.

Rie shook her head frantically. “No! I heard Kusakabe say you will!” She sobbed, clutching onto his night shirt with a vice like hold.

Satoru silently cursed the man as he rubbed Rie’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? What does Kusakabe know anyway, the schmuck?” His poor attempt at joking fell flat, Rie only continued to cry. With a heavy sigh, Satoru pulled back, holding her face in his hands. “What do I always say, hm? I’m the strongest. I’ll get one up on him.”

Rie stared up at him and Satoru was painfully aware of how young she was. “You promise?” She uttered.

Satoru hesitated.

If he were to promise and it didn’t actually work out, who was he? Would she resent him for the rest of her life? Would she try to forget him and spit on his memory? He’d been promised many things in life by people he looked up to and every single one had been broken. Resentment festered. Trust was broken.

What kind of father was he if he—

Take care of her. She worries.

Satoru tucked some of her hair— your hair— behind her ear. “I promise.” He whispered, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. “I promise.”

Rie clutched onto him once again. “I love you.”

No hesitation.

“I love you too.”

The worries of Sukuna and Kenjaku could wait until morning. Satoru had to focus on her now.

Take care of her.

#✩࿐ t writes #♡ oneshot #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru angst #yeahhhh #another one where reader is dead #can’t help myself sorry.

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dolliestfairy · 9 months

Text

Tw : Noncon/Dubcon, Predator x Prey kink, fear kink, Manhandle (?) & Outdoor sex. lmk if i miss anything. Chubby Reader Fics With No Skintone Of Reader Mentioned.

Mdni!

Currently thinking abt men who have a predator x prey kink. Men who love to see your trembling expression when he act like some merciless predator. men who loves to play hide and seek with you. despite his own self being a grown man, he cant help but get even more turned on when he sees your scared expression, while his hand pinch your chubby cheeks, only to make you more trembling in fear.

"look at you.. all scared and stuff... you're only making me more excited y'know?"

he's a man who is soo thrilled when he was chasing you. catching you around like a crazy dude, its only a matter of time before his hand get onto your clothes and easily ripped them off, and later on, you'll be getting pinned down beneath him while your pussy service his cock, laughing as a respond from him to your cries, slapping your fat belly and grabbing them with a very harsh grip. and.. ngl you both are going to look like some wild animals fucking each other in the woods, but dont worry though. he's a mass fucking possesive dude. theres no fucking way he'll let some random stranger look at your body. your body is all his and his only for see and touch. and if you forget it? he'll gladly reminds you.

The Men That i'm talking about Are;

GETO SUGURU, OBITO, Itoshi Brothers, MIYA ATSUMU, KUROO TETSURO, Tsukishima Kei, HOSHIGAKI KISAME, ALEC, Sakamaki Brothers, MUKAMI BROTHERS, Lev Haiba, TENDOU, MADARA, KIBA, ITTO, Childe, Scaramouche, POSEIDON, SEBASTIAN, Malleus, HADES, SHIVA, OVERHAUL, SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY, Horangi, Alejandro, HIDAN, Deidara, Sasori, KAKUZU, OROCHIMARU, UCHIHA SASUKE, SUKUNA RYOMEN & Bachira.

DID I FORGET ANYONE? INSERT UR FAV!

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kyeomofhearts · 3 months

Text

Again & Again | C.SC

+ summary: you caved in and fucked your best friend, but it was only a one-time thing… right?

+ pairing: scoups x fem!reader

+ word count: 4.3k

+ content: fwb!, chubby reader (love ya'll), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, pussy drunk cheol, size kink, angst, fluff

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (Final)

+ WARNINGS: drinking!, smut, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, rough sex, praise?, sizekink, creampie, pls lmk if I missed anything

“I’m ready!”

Seungcheol’s ears perked up at your sudden announcement. Turning his head, only to be met with a breathtaking view of you. The way your clothes hugged your figure had his head spinning. He always loved seeing your curves and the way you filled out everything nicely. Although you weren’t wearing anything out of the ordinary, it was just a simple outfit. Something that would match the mood for Jeonghan’s party.

But Seungcheol being… well himself, he was mesmerized. He was for sure going to struggle to keep his hands off you, especially at Jeonghan’s party. As much as he was willing to risk it all for you, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he kept it to himself.

“Let’s go then.”

…

The car ride was comfortable, nothing different from the ordinary.

Well, maybe a little different.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Seungcheol looking at you at times. It was easy to guess what he was thinking about… but you were literally two minutes away from Jeonghan’s place!

And they would know.

You took a deep breath.

“Don't even think about it.”

“What?” Seungcheol tried playing it off, even though he knew he had been caught. Even his voice raised a few octaves.

“We can’t! Not now at least…” As much as you tried hiding your pout, you couldn’t.

Of course, you wanted to fuck Seungcheol but with how rough he got… you knew you would get your makeup all messed up and that was something you did not want to deal with at the moment.

“Well… can I get a kiss before we head inside?” He gave you puppy eyes after putting the car in park.

God was he annoying. It annoyed you that his tricks always worked on you. But before you could say anything he was already leaning over the console, fluttering his stupidly long eyelashes with his lips puckered. He knew he looked stupid but teasing you was his favorite thing to do.

Without a second thought, you leaned in to give him a light peck. That should be good enough to hold him off for the next few hours right? Nope. Just before you were finished pulling away, his hand swiftly pulled you back to his lips. You couldn’t stop yourself from following his lead, especially when his hand was keeping your head steady.

Before it could escalate to something more, you felt your phone vibrate. Finally, pulling away while ignoring Cheol’s pleas, you went to check who had texted you.

Ugh.

It was Jeonghan, asking why you weren’t there yet.

“We can continue this later Cheol. Jeonghan’s asking me where we are.” You spoke softly, you knew how sulky Seungcheol would get if he didn’t get what he wanted, but it had to be done.

But fortunately, that was enough to convince him to hold off on his desires. And so he finally stepped out of the car, but only after telling you to not move an inch.

After he opened the door for you, you both began to walk to Jeonghan’s place. It was a nice walk to his place. It would have been even more nice had Seungcheol not tried holding your hand. Was he trying to give you a heart attack? Seriously, everything he did made it feel like he was your boyfriend… which he was not. It really didn’t help your blossoming feelings for him either, it was like he was purposely adding fuel to the fire. But you knew there was nothing behind his gestures, he’s been like this even before you started hooking up.

“C’mon… my hands are cold without yours!” God was he annoying. He was a living embodiment of the pleading emoji, always finding a way to use his puppy eyes to his advantage. But you loved to indulge him every single time.

You rolled your eyes, “What about your other hand? If I only hold this one, then the other one will stay cold.”

“The other hand is connected to the other, so once you hold my hand they both get warmed up.” Seungcheol countered all smug as if that didn’t sound like the dumbest thing he’s ever said.

“I don’t think it works like that-”

“You guys took forever!” Jeonghan said while looking at both you and Seungcheol. You immediately ripped your hand away from Cheol’s.

Jeonghan’s eyes were carrying an entertained look to them, you hope he didn’t see the whole thing between you and Seungcheol. That would be really hard to explain.

But before you could think anything of it, the sound of your favorite voice (besides Cheol's) had gotten your attention.

“y/n~ there's a special surprise waiting for you in the kitchen!” Soonyoung had yelled out behind Jeonghan.

“And… that's my cue!” You immediately sped off towards the kitchen. Tonight was all about having fun and you were going to take advantage of it. Head empty, no thoughts. That is what you were striving for.

Now Seungcheol and Jeonghan were left alone.

“So… you and y/n? Finally?” Jeonghan prodded after your swift departure. He has been waiting for the day that you and Seungcheol finally got together.

“No… not yet at least,” Seungcheol said with a sigh. Even when he didn’t mean to get all sulky, it always happened. It was like second nature to him.

Jeonghan raised his eyebrow to this. While it was amusing to see both of his friends be blind to the other’s feelings, it was just as frustrating. For the past few years, he witnessed how stupid people could truly be. How was it possible that you and Seungcheol were not aware of each other’s feelings? Anybody could see it clear as day. But he couldn’t do anything about it, since at the end of the day, it was not his place to get involved. So with a loud, disappointed sigh, Jeonghan patted Seungcheol’s back. All he could really do was provide advice and comfort.

“Just tell her man, I am more than sure that she will return your feelings.”

Seungcheol groaned at the thought.

“I will but I still need to find the perfect-”

“Time, yes I know that. You’ve been saying that for years now.” Jeonghan was displeased. “But what if y/n begins to think that she’s wasting her time with you? What happens then?”

Seungcheol really wanted to fire back but he couldn’t find anything to say.

And just like that, Jeonghan went inside, leaving Seungcheol outside in the cold.

Jeonghan's 'party' was quite small in reality. It was really just the guys with some of their significant others, nothing crazy.

Well.

Except for Soonyoung and his drinking.

You weren't known to be a heavy drinker but when it came to special occasions, your friends knew you could get down.

Luckily for them, today had been quite stressful in terms of work. So after a few pleas from Soonyoung and Seokmin, you indulged in a few shots. After all, a little never hurt... right?

Wrong.

Needless to say, you got wasted within a matter of hours.

It wasn't your fault though! The games Soonyoung came up with were really entertaining, you just couldn't help yourself.

The burn of the alcohol didn't phase you as much after your fourth shot. The aftertaste was still disgusting of course, but nothing a chaser couldn't fix.

Soonyoung, being the lightweight that he is, was already nearing the edge of blacking out. And Seokmin... you didn't know where he went to. Maybe the bathroom? Well, he was for sure in the house, you'll find him sooner or later.

God, your eyes were beginning to feel heavy and it didn't help that everything was starting to look blurry as well.

You decided to stand up and walk off the sudden drowsiness, that usually helped you wake up a bit. Instead, you felt a sudden rush go straight to your head, which threw you off balance.

Maybe you should-

“…And I think we’re done with the drinks,” Seungcheol said as he magically appeared behind you, taking the empty cup in your hand and throwing it away.

His free hand snaked its way down to your waist. "Feeling good? Need some water love?"

If you were in the right state of mind, you would be definitely thinking about how intimate this would look to the others.

But all you could think about was how his hand was leaving a warm, tingly feeling on your waist. The way his touch was firm yet gentle at the same time.

You were so focused on his touch that you forgot to answer the question he had originally asked you.

He leaned his head further into your neck, "I'll take that as a yes... did you want to head out?"

It was nearing ten o'clock, which should be considered a reasonable time to leave.

"Hmmm... I guess so."

The idea of climbing into bed and just dozing off was so tempting. Unfortunately, you had to wait which was the worst part of it all.

Before you could continue thinking about how comfortable your bed was, you felt something cold press against your cheek.

You shrieked at the feeling.

“Why would you do that?” You yelled out in surprise.

Turning around to look at Seungcheol, you couldn’t help but freeze. His gaze sent you shivers, or maybe it was because of the water bottle still pressed to your cheek. Either way, you were rendered speechless.

“You need to drink your water that’s why.” His tone was innocent but the smile that accompanied it was quiet… mischievous.

“…and maybe because you ignored me today. ”

There it was. He always found a reason to pout and sulk to you.

So you did as you were told and drank from the bottle. It did help wake you up a little bit but you were still far from sober.

"Let's say goodbye to everyone now." He took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. This action alone making your body burn up.

You don't remember too much after that, only slurring out your goodbyes to your friends.

It had only been a few minutes since the two of you had arrived at his apartment. He decided it would be better in your case since his place was closer to Jeonghan's compared to yours.

“Since when did you have these products?” You stared in drunken awe, most of your skincare products were in his bathroom.

Shit. He hopes you don't think he's a complete freak. He bought your skincare products for the nights that you would spend at his place. He just wanted to make you feel at home with him. (And maybe this was his way of convincing you to stay the night with him since you had everything you needed…)

“Um… just figured it would be more convenient for you…” he prayed that you would think it was a kind gesture rather than him being a weirdo.

You took a second to respond, admiring how thoughtful he was when it came to making you feel comfortable.

“It's cute, I'm honestly more surprised you were able to get some of these products, some of them are exclusively online...” your eyes flitted to look at his. "Although, I don't think I'm capable of doing my whole routine right now." It was true, you were barely able to stand, imagine trying to do your skincare like this…

“I can do it for you,” he chipped in immediately after.

This filled you with that warm feeling you were now getting accustomed to. What was he doing to your heart?

He tapped the toilet lid, waiting for you to sit so he could begin his work. You knew it was pointless trying to stop him, once he had his mind set on something he wouldn’t let anything get in his way from completing it.

“Not yet. I still have to brush my teeth first.” And maybe this was your time to calm down before he eventually caressed your face for ten minutes straight.

Seungcheol took advantage of the little time you gave him and got changed into something comfortable. He also pulled out some more loose-fitting clothes since he knew you liked wearing baggier clothes to lounge around in. He wondered if it would be too ridiculous if he put them in the dryer to warm them up for you. It shouldn’t be, right?

"Are you sure you want to do this?" You asked apprehensively.

"Of course." He said without a second thought.

"Anything for you, remember?" His eyes were filled with something, some would say love but you didn't want to get too ahead of yourself.

He started to warm up the oil cleanser in between his hands. Then he gently applied the oil to your face, rubbing it in slow circles as to not irritate your face.

It was at times like this that made you worry if your arrangement was a bad idea. Sometimes you wish you would have just confessed to him instead of jumping straight into bed with him. Maybe things would have turned out differently had you done so.

Unwanted tears began pooling in your eyes. Why were these thoughts eating you up all of a sudden?

Seungcheol was quick to notice the tears.

"Did I get it in your eyes? I'm so sorry-"

“Cheol… I don’t think I can continue with- whatever this is,” you hiccuped, “i-it's just too much for me.”

His heart dropped.

What do you mean stop? He thought everything was going great, he was even planning on officially asking you out tomorrow.

“Why? I mean if that's how you really feel then we can stop, but at least tell me why, love.” Though his tone was understanding you could still see the concern in his eyes.

“I don't know... I just feel so conflicted. Like the way you treat me makes me want more with you but I know that's probably not what you want.” It felt as if a huge weight had been taken off of your shoulders. He’s right, you can't just end the arrangement without telling him why.

Continuing, “I just can't help it, I really like you but I know this is just casual for you and I would hate to put you in an uncomfortable position.” You ignored meeting his eyes, knowing you would cry even more if you saw the way he was looking at you right now.

On the other hand, Seungcheol was stunned, to say the least. But he was also relieved to hear the reason you wanted to end things was because you liked him but now he had to stop you from crying. He needed to let you know that he liked you just as much if not even more.

He was usually good with words but he didn’t really know what to say… so he hugged you instead. Hug was actually an understatement. His whole body tightly engulfed yours. He didn’t want to let you go at all.

“Cheol…?”

You tried wiggling out of his grasp but there was no point in trying, he had a very tight hold on you.

“You actually had me worried there for a second, I thought I actually did something wrong.”

Oh.

He cupped your face, which, by the way, was still oily because of the makeup remover.

"I was planning on asking you out tomorrow," he let out a soft laugh, "but I guess you beat me to it." He pressed a light peck to your lips.

“Wait, so does that mean…” okay that sounds dumb. But in true fashion, you had to ask him if he really meant it (even if he just confessed to you).

He laughs at your confusion but nods nonetheless.

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way though," he says wholeheartedly, "I actually wanted to avoid making you feel like I was only using you."

Before you could think of anything to say his hands returned their motions on your face.

"We should finish cleaning you up before we continue talking about us."

It was quiet but not uncomfortable. Soft giggles from either you or Cheol came and went.

He had finished around ten minutes later.

Your eyes were beginning to get heavy again, the sleepiness slowly creeping over you again.

And again, he noticed this. He was always able to read you.

"We can talk about it tomorrow," his tone was soft. He tried his best to not disturb your sleepy state.

His hand went to the small of your back, lightly guiding you to his bedroom.

Once you climbed onto the bed you fell asleep not even a minute later. Seungcheol quickly followed as soon as he cuddled up against you.

It was calm.

It had been almost an hour since you had woken up. Your head wasn't hurting as bad as you thought it would be. Maybe it was because someone kept making you drink water throughout the night.

Speaking of him, Seungcheol was currently busy with making breakfast, which left you the freedom to lounge around the living room.

Until a certain thought came up.

Well, more like thoughts.

You were recounting last night's events and what still weighed on your mind.

You knew you had confessed to Cheol and that he returned your feelings… but something felt off. It still felt like you needed to tell him something but you couldn’t place your finger on exactly what it was.

“Here,” Cheol had placed the food right next to you. God, it wasn’t even anything special but his food looked so damn good.

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to eat it.

“Is something wrong?” Seungcheol asked apprehensively, his gaze filled with worry.

You didn’t know where to begin.

Maybe you should tell him about the guy you had hooked up with a while ago, the one that didn’t know where your clit was… that’s a good start right?

Obviously you know you didn’t really do anything wrong but it still weighs heavy on your mind from time to time.

"I need to tell you something, but promise me you won't get mad at me," you pleaded.

He looked at you incredulously, "It can't be that bad."

Taking a deep breath you begin, "I slept with someone else. But, this was before we came up with the arrangement, I think maybe a few days after we..." your voice immediately got stuck in your throat once you caught a glimpse of Cheol.

He was oddly calm. Too calm for your liking.

"Did you like it?" His voice didn't hold any trace of anger but you knew he was bothered by it.

You knew that you had to be cautious with your wording.

"No! I think I was just confused at the time so I experimented ," Your voice was meek. "It didn't mean anything, I promise."

He looked at you briefly. "That's too bad."

Huh?

To your dismay, he stood up and walked away into his bedroom.

You felt frozen in a way, confused about how to handle the situation. But rather than letting it grow into something worse you decided to follow him to his room. Talking it out will for sure help.

As you walked towards his door, you noticed that it had been left wide open.

Was this a setup?

Carefully, you stepped inside his room while searching for him. You were met with the sound of the door slamming shut, and a sudden presence behind your back.

"Cheol-" He turned you towards him, his hold was quite firm; though not to be confused with harsh.

"I'm not mad I promise," he leaned closer to kiss you. While his tone was gentle his kiss was not.

He pulled away for just a second.

"Why be mad when I have you all to myself now?"

Before he could go any further he pulled away again.

"Is this okay?"

Immediately, you nodded to let him continue his ministrations.

He cupped your cheeks once again to kiss you.

After a minute or so, he moved down to your neck. At first, he pressed light pecks but eventually started lingering on certain spots.

"Need to let everyone know that you're mine."

With that, he continued marking your neck, making sure that everyone would be able to see that you were now taken.

And while you loved the feeling of him marking you up, you couldn't help but want more.

"Cheol, please," your breaths were labored.

He hummed into the crook of your neck.

"Can you please just fuck me already?" You were growing needier by the second. Your panties were sticking uncomfortably against your heat.

He scoffed at your sudden urgency.

"I still need to prep you though," he tried reasoning with you, but to no avail, it fell upon deaf ears.

"We can do that any other day Cheol," the thought of having to wait a second longer pained you.

But, if that's how you wanted it... how could he deny you that?

He roughly exhaled before focusing on you again.

"Clothes," he instructed with a tug to your (his) shirt.

He did the same in return. Once you were both done stripping, he pushed you towards his bed so he could begin his work on you.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to get prepped first?” He was lightly tracing his fingers over your inner thighs.

Had it been with anyone else you would for sure need prep but Cheol was always careful with you, you trusted him.

“Yes, god, please just fuck me.” Desperate couldn’t begin to describe how you were feeling at the moment.

With that final confirmation, he began to work. While he knew you didn't want to be prepped he still wanted to work you up a bit. Gently, he grabbed a hold of your thighs and started spreading them apart.

He trailed soft kisses at an excruciatingly slow rate. But eventually, he landed on your core. He peppered it with another round of kisses, the pressure varying between each kiss.

After a minute or so he pulled away and slotted himself right in between your legs.

Holding his cock in his hand, he stroked it twice and then ran the tip up and down your slit. No matter how many times you fuck Seungcheol, you will never get used to the initial sting of his cock. It also doesn’t help that he’s so big.

He slowly nudged the tip towards your entrance. Gradually, he carefully pushed himself deeper inside you, cautious knowing that he hadn’t prepped you. After the first few seconds the feeling went away, leaving you with want. You moved your hips to let him know you wanted more.

"Fuck," you manage.

"Can't take me?" He almost pulls out fully before snapping his cock into you again.

You hated when he got this cocky, but you couldn't deny that it didn't turn you on even more.

“Shut up,” you tried hiding the pleasure in your voice while he slowly went in and out of you.

He only hummed in response. Soon he became enveloped in you, his thrusts were slowly picking up pace while he held onto you tightly. Your senses were completely invaded by Seungcheol, only being able to think about him.

“I will never get used to how tight you are,” his voice was strained, trying his best to not cum inside you. (because that would be embarrassing, not for you but for him)

All you could do was moan in response.

After a few months of consistent hookups, Seungcheol had learned about your body pretty quickly, from your kinks, to your turn offs… he practically knew your body inside and out.

Which explained how he knew you were on the brink of coming, your walls tightening around him being a common telltale sign.

Usually, he would edge you for a good hour or so, but after last night’s ordeal he just wanted to show you how much you affected him. So with that, Seungcheol lazily brought his free down to your clit and began to rub slow yet firm circles. He knew that playing with your bud would immediately send you over the edge. It also didn’t help that his pace was becoming more erratic, by the looks of it, you would be coming together.

And just like that, after a few more thrusts he felt you begin to spasm underneath him, letting a loud string of moans out during the act. Seungcheol dipped his head towards your lips as he came inside you, making you swallow his groans in the process.

Shortly after, Seungcheol’s body fell completely limp on yours, feeling only pure exhaustion. It felt nice, only being able to feel his heavy body on top of yours… kind of therapeutic in a sense. But unfortunately that didn’t last very long, because after a minute or so, everything began to feel wet and sticky.

As if reading your mind, Seungcheol mumbled out a low, “let’s get cleaned up.”

While you were obviously up for it, the thought of having to stand up at this very moment felt horrible. As he slowly pulled out of you, you couldn’t help but just stay on the bed. This did not go well with Seungcheol.

“Y/n c’mon, we have to get you cleaned up,” he whined while tugging on your arm.

“Just five more minutes, I still can’t feel my legs!” Were you being over dramatic? Yes, but it’s not like he’s not used to it.

“Y/n we have to get ready to go out.” This time he pulled you all the way up, keeping you steady while you regained your balance. You did recall him mentioning going out today but you don’t remember exactly where.

“Really? Where are we going?” The excitement of going out completely masked the feeling of your jelly-like legs.

“Nowhere in specific.” Your smile dropped. What does he mean nowhere? You hated when he turned things into surprises. (Hate is a strong word but you get the idea.)

He shrugged his shoulders, “Just wanted to show my new girlfriend off to the world I guess…”

Ugh. He is so annoying.

“Never say that again, ever.”

Yet, you couldn’t hide the smile slowly creeping up towards your face. Hearing him call you his girlfriend was definitely something you could get used to.

I am so so so sorry for leaving you guys hanging! It was not my intention I swear,, I just kept taking and adding to the fic which is why it got delayed so bad… at least the finale is here right? The last part was not proofread so I’m hoping that it’s legible, hope you enjoy :3

#seventeen #svt #scoups #scoups smut #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff #luv!writes

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cometkenji · 12 days

Text

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.”

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers.

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying.

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could.

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you.

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question.

Damn. Tough crowd.

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang.

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal.

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac.

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home.

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him.

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right.

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him.

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action.

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest.

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?”

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop.

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing.

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here.

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said.

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently.

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him.

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped.

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital.

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it.

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you.

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

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sluttywoozi · 1 month

Text

Disconnected | ljh x reader

It's been three weeks since Jihoon spoke to you for longer than a few minutes, since he came to bed before you were asleep, since he looked you in the eyes and told you he loved you.

You know he does, of course, but you haven’t felt any evidence of it lately.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.0k | Pairing: ljh x reader | Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, smut

Warnings: distant!neglectful!jihoon, eating issues, marriage problems, anxiety, partial solving of marriage problems, small mention of pregnancy/having kids (like one part of a sentence)

Smut Warnings: body worship, breast play, biting/marking, oral f. rec., fingering

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, there’s a shower scene where reader takes care of their hair and i believe it should work for different textures but if it doesn’t lmk, chubby but its not a plot point

You look across the dining table at Jihoon, finding him absorbed in his phone as he chews and taking the chance to stare at him for just a bit longer.

He doesn’t spare you a glance, and your eyes go to your untouched food. You haven’t been hungry lately, eating is the last thing on your mind when you’re feeling like this, when he’s spending most hours of the day at the studio, and devoting the remaining time to anyone but you.

It's been three weeks since he spoke to you for longer than a few minutes, since he came to bed before you were asleep, since he looked you in the eyes and told you he loved you.

You know he does, of course, but you haven’t felt any evidence of it lately.

This is the life you signed up for, you try to remind yourself, but that doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t soothe the caustic burn in your throat that always comes when you’re suppressing tears, or make his side of the bed warm when you slide under the covers alone, and it especially doesn’t remind him to text you more than the stilted responses you’ve counted yourself lucky to receive.

But here he is, tapping away at his phone and shoveling bites of the food you cooked for him into his mouth, too engrossed in whoever he’s texting to even notice your gaze on him. You doubt he’ll realize you’ve gotten up until he’s finished eating, so you scoot away from the table and take your food to the kitchen.

There’s no point in letting it sit out when you’re not going to eat it, and you’re beginning to find you can hardly even bear the smell with your stomach roiling like this. You tilt your plate over the glassware, scraping your dinner into the dish and closing the lid with a click before storing it in the fridge with a sigh.

Now that Jihoon is home and fed, you don’t really know what to do with yourself.

While he’s gone, you take care of things around the house, do some freelance writing, tell yourself that maybe today, he’ll come home and be like he used to be.

Then when he does come home and greets you with a distracted hello and a flash of a kiss on the cheek before heading into his home studio, you find yourself feeling bereft, listless, just like you do now.

You suppose you could take a shower, maybe let a few tears slip under the cover of the water, blame your red, swollen eyes on shampoo, not that he’d bother to ask. Or even notice.

With your mind only half made up, you float on mindless feet to the bedroom and peel the clothes from your body, stopping by the dresser to grab some pajamas. You can hear utensils clacking against porcelain, so you know he’s still eating and likely won’t be coming into the bathroom at least until you’re done.

You don’t know why, but when he’s distant like this, you don’t like to let him see you naked.

Maybe it’s because you already feel stripped to your nuts and bolts, maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel like your Jihoon. Either way, you prefer to be clothed around him, to at least have one extra barrier between him and you lest he see how vulnerable and unguarded you are.

The shower is comforting, warm enough you can almost pretend it’s his arms around you instead, though you stop yourself every time, unwilling to endure the pain once the fantasy fades. You hug yourself, try to hold your broken pieces together as water rains down on you and tears start to bubble over.

Biting back a sob, you take in a shuddering breath and reach for your shampoo, telling yourself that you’ve gotten through this before and you will again. Every time you hear those words in your mind, they feel a little less true, a little less sure.

You step back under the flow of water, rinsing the suds from your hair and squeezing out the excess moisture before coating the strands in conditioner. It needs to sit for a few minutes so you let yourself sink down to the heated tiles of the shower basin, shifting out of the spray and resting your back against the bench.

You tuck your knees up, loosely wrapping your arms around them and staring into the mist as if it contains the solutions to all of your problems. Your mind wanders back to Jihoon, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach as you wonder how much longer you realistically can take this.

It’s not like you haven’t talked to him about it before. The first time it happened was early in your relationship, maybe around the one year mark. You suffered in silence for a month, wondering if something had changed, if he’d met someone else, if he didn’t want you like he used to. You were close to breaking it off when he finally came out of it, apologizing for going radio silent on you and telling you it wouldn’t happen again.

And for two years, it didn’t. For two years, he was perfect, and present, and near ecstatic to show you his love. Then, it happened again, though you only let it last for two and a half weeks before you sat him down and told him you needed him to come back, to figure out how to balance music and you, how to make his life with you work with his life outside of you, even when it gets busy.

He agreed, and instantly made a change for the better, showing you how willing and able he was to manage his relationship with you and his work. That’s partially why this time is so painful - you know he’s capable of putting in the effort, you just don’t know if he can recognize when he’s not.

And it might be immature, it might be selfish, it might be both, but this time, you want him to figure it out on his own. You want him to see that he’s neglecting you, and make the change without you having to ask him to, even if it means you suffer in the meantime.

You grab your comb from the ledge and start detangling your hair, almost thankful for the tears that arise because they mean you’re crying about something other than him, for once. When the comb glides, you hold it under the water to clean it off, setting it back on the ledge and begrudgingly rising to your feet.

Your head tilts back as you rinse, your hands smoothing over your hair until the silky feeling of the conditioner washes out. You give your body a good scrub, rubbing with your exfoliating gloves until you feel brand new before stepping back under the water and letting it all wash down the drain.

You stare at the running water for a while, your thoughts as difficult to pin down as the droplets racing toward the small grate in the floor. The shower won’t run cold, not with the two heaters Jihoon had installed when you were building the place, so there’s nothing but the fear of wasting water keeping you from staying in the safe, spacious cubicle for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, you didn’t grow up in a wasteful household so you can’t linger, shutting the shower off now that you’re done and reaching for your leave-ins. You layer them into your hair and squeeze out the extra water, wrapping your head up in a turbie twist and grabbing a towel from the warmer.

Draping it over your shoulders, you hug yourself again, staring at your shivering form in the slowly defogging mirror and wishing you had Jihoon to hold you instead.

Even with that wish, you still jump and suck in a sharp gasp when he appears in the doorway. Immediately, you tuck the towel around yourself, hiding your body from him and looking anywhere but into his eyes. Your shoulders bunch up in discomfort, the skin fully exposed thanks to your wrapped hair, the lingering drops of water feeling like ice under his gaze.

His eyebrows furrow, his mouth opening as if to speak, before he closes it and averts his eyes, murmuring, “I, uh… came to tell you I would be in my studio for a few hours.”

You don’t know why he’s warning you, he never does when he’s absent like this, but you quietly say, “Okay,” waiting for him to leave so you can get dressed.

Except he doesn’t. He just stands there, halfway in the door, halfway out, his gaze barely to the left of you and suddenly deep, dark, like a bottomless well.

You feel like you can’t breathe trapped in here with him like this, with your ghost of a husband. More than that, you feel exposed, your frayed nerves sparking with the urge to flee, his presence eliciting your fight or flight response. You should leave out the fight, this time, considering the fact that you’d almost rather perish than speak to him further at this moment. How far could you get, you wonder, before he’d notice?

Tomorrow, when he’s wrapped up in his work again, maybe you’ll catch a train, a plane, go somewhere warm and sunny, somewhere that isn’t here.

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” He asks slowly, his dark eyes sharp on you through the mirror, knowing.

And this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted him to figure it out on his own, to put it together without you spelling it out for him, but now that he has, you don’t know what to do. So, you just nod, grabbing your pajamas off the vanity and locking yourself in the closet so you can finally change, finally cover yourself up, finally have another barrier between you and Jihoon.

When you finish getting dressed and taking care of your hair, you find yourself almost scared to open the doors, not knowing what will be waiting for you when you come out. Still, you take a deep breath and wade through the anxiety, pushing open the doors and stopping short when you realize the bathroom is empty.

Maybe he went into his studio anyway.

Maybe he doesn’t care, maybe he’s tired of having someone who requires his attention, his affection. Maybe he doesn’t love you like he used to, and just doesn’t know how to say it.

You’ve worked yourself into a state of numb teariness by the time you enter the bedroom and find him sitting on the duvet, his head in his hands and his back to you. He jumps to his feet when he hears you, rushing over and taking hold of your hands to guide you to the bed. Confused, you let him push your shoulders down, watching as he settles on his knees in front of you and takes your hands again.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he says emphatically, his voice choked up and his face tight with anguish. “I - I never should have let myself get so focused on work. I knew that I missed you, but I didn’t realize how bad it was until you left in the middle of dinner.”

Huh. You didn’t think he’d notice.

“I finally looked up from my stupid fucking phone and you were gone, and I could hear the shower running so I came to check on you, and I heard you crying,” he bites his lips between his teeth and looks away, his eyebrows pushed together and his face slowly reddening. You realize he’s trying not to cry, himself, and start to pull your hands from his so you can cup his face.

He doesn’t let you, his grip too strong for you to break and his eyes angry when he looks back at you, though you know better than to think he’s angry with you. “You shouldn’t need to comfort me right now, I should be comforting you. I’m the one that fucked up, that’s been fucking up.”

You don’t speak, assuming he wants to get all of this out at once. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “When I heard you crying, I started thinking about the past few weeks, and I realized how absent I’ve been. I can’t even remember the last time I really kissed you, and that’s ridiculous. I’m your husband, I should be kissing you and telling you I love you every single fucking day, cherishing you like you deserve, reminding you how grateful I am that you’re in my life.”

“I’m lucky you didn’t fucking leave,” he all but sobs, his face crumpling as he turns and hides his face from you in his shoulder. Again, you try to take your hands back, and this time, he lets you. He lets you cup his cheek and swipe away the tears that fell, he lets you pull him up until he’s sitting next to you, he lets you tug him into your arms and hold him close.

He shudders against you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his big arms around you, lifting and rearranging you so you’re sitting in his lap instead of next to him. You wish you could get closer but you can’t, your chest is already pressed to his and your hips are aligned, your knees folded on either side of his body as he holds you.

“I love you too much to ever leave, Jihoon,” you sigh, leaving out the fact that you did briefly consider it before bundling him up in your arms when that just makes him shudder out a sob and hold you tighter.

“I love you so fucking much, and I swear on everything, I will never let this happen again,” he promises, and this time, you really think it might be true.

You spend the rest of the night together, laying in bed. Sometimes you just stare at each other, sometimes you talk, sometimes you laugh. You even cry once out of sheer relief, a brief catharsis that makes Jihoon tear up and hold you so tight, you can’t breathe.

When it’s time to go to sleep, he strips to his boxers and wraps himself around you, his body more on your side of the bed than his. It’s like he can’t stand to be separated from you now that he’s brought himself back, now that he’s realized how far away from you he was. You think he might even climb into your skin, given the chance.

You rest better than you have in weeks, sleeping soundly through the whole night with his breaths on the back of your neck and his arms wrapped around you, and when you wake, he’s still there.

You’ve changed positions, shifted to lay on his chest with an arm and a leg thrown over his body. He’s awake already, one elbow bent behind his head as he stares at you, and after you check the time, you ask, “Don’t you have to go into the studio today?”

“No, I told them I wasn’t coming in when I woke up,” he smiles softly, tracing his fingers up and down your back, making you shiver against him.

“When did you wake up?” You ask, slightly confused because you normally rise before him, especially on days he has to work.

“Like an hour ago, had a nightmare,” he murmurs, making your eyebrows furrow in concern. His fingers stop drifting over your back and come up to smooth away the wrinkle in between your eyebrows as he says, “It’s my own fault.”

“You can’t be at fault for having a nightmare, Jihoon,” you remind him gently, tilting your face into his hand when he cups your cheek.

“I can be when the nightmare is that you packed a bag and left,” he says distantly, like his mind is far away. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since it woke me up.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise him. “This just can’t happen again, especially now that we’re married.”

“I know,” he agrees in a soft voice, his face pensive. “I think we, or maybe I, should go to couples counseling.”

You hum, biting your lip as you think it over. His thumb tugs at it, pulling down until you’re no longer digging your teeth into the flesh. “I think that’s a good idea. For both of us.”

“I’ll do some research then,” he smiles down at you, brushing his thumb over your slightly indented bottom lip. You smile back, rising up on your elbow to lean in and press your lips to his.

This is the first kiss you’ve shared since the rushed, absentminded peck you got yesterday morning, and Jihoon must realize because his hand forms around your cheek again and his fingers slide into your hair, pulling you closer and holding you there.

You can feel all the love, the devotion, the adoration he’s pouring into it, his sunshine glowing through the fractures in your heart and slowly filling them in, like dandelions growing in the cracks of a sidewalk.

Time slips away and your thoughts do too, your brain empty but for Jihoon as he kisses you breathless. Your elbow starts to shake, the position a bit awkward for you to be putting all of your weight on it, and he, of course, notices. You don’t expect him to roll over and brace himself above you, his body held away from yours by sheer strength, so you gasp when you find yourself under him, surrounded by him.

It’s slightly overwhelming, being so utterly ensconced by him, but you love it, would stay here huddled under him for the rest of time if you could. The world could be falling apart around you and you wouldn’t have a clue, you’re so entranced by him.

“Baby, I don’t deserve it, but… I want to show you how much I love you. Can I?” He asks sincerely, his voice wavering with emotion. You’re about to answer with a vehement yes before he continues, “If you’re not ready, I won’t ask again, I’ll let you come to me.”

You won’t remind him that this is (partially) what you’ve been wanting for the past month, instead telling him, “I’m ready, Jihoon. I want you to show me.”

His smile is nearly blinding, so wide and bright you want to shield your eyes, though you wouldn’t miss a second of this, of him, for anything.

He kisses you again, sipping from your lips like they hold the nectar of the gods, like you’re his salvation, and you kiss him back in much the same way, your eyes fluttering shut and your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

One hand delves into his hair when he trails kisses across your cheek and over your jaw, his mouth suctioning over your pulse point so he can feel your heart beat for him. And maybe it does, maybe that’s why you feel so lifeless without him, so faint, as if a strong gust of wind could blow you away.

But it’s also why you feel so vibrant now, why you’re lit up from the inside, why the effects of his love shine through every pore.

His mouth meanders to the spot under your ear that always makes you shiver, and he spends eons there, licking and sucking and biting until you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist and his name on your lips.

By the time he moves on to your breasts, you’re dazed, barely able to help him take off your pajama shirt. He has to straddle you to free up his hands and tug it off, and you come back online just in time to watch his eyes darken as they drag over your exposed skin. You’re not shy anymore, content to lay there and let him look his fill, your hands resting above your head, lifting your breasts.

His hands cover them before his lips do, his palms warm and soft where they cup the weighty flesh, squeezing gently as his thumbs brush over your pebbled nipples. He leans down to suck one into his mouth, taking deep pulls that make your back arch into him as the sensation sparks through you. He can’t seem to settle on one side, always switching so neither are neglected, your breasts marked up and spit slick by the time his kisses start to dot your stomach.

He’s always been vocal about how much he loves your belly, loves the soft pudge and the way it contracts when you laugh, loves filling it with food and covering it with kisses, would someday love to watch it grow with life. It’s no surprise when he settles between your legs and spends almost as much time on your stomach as he did on your breasts, his lips tracing every stretch mark and his teeth sinking into every curve.

You’re trembling when he finally moves on to your hips, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pajamas and starting to pull. You lift your ass to help, remembering at the last second that you put panties on too last night, unlike usual. Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind, kissing you over the fabric before pushing your legs apart and nipping a line up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

He soothes the sting with his lips and tongue, working his way up to the apex of your thighs and licking you over the fabric when he gets to your covered cunt. You’ve grown wet enough for a small patch to form on the seat of your panties, and Jihoon uses the damp material to his advantage, firming his tongue and digging it into where he knows your entrance is.

The feeling is soft, muted, but still good, and you can’t help but bring a hand down to tangle your fingers in his long, loose hair. He turns his head and presses one last kiss to your thigh before reaching up and starting to pull your panties down, his eyes heated and dark and laser focused on your pussy as it’s revealed to him.

The underwear has barely cleared your feet when he pushes your legs apart again and leans down to suck in a deep breath through his nose, smelling your arousal and groaning before dragging his tongue through your folds for a taste. The noise that escapes him now is more like a whine, a punched out sound that comes from deep within his lungs, his fingers spasming on your thighs as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

He’s barely started but you’re already moaning, already wanting for more, already on the verge of begging for his mouth around your clit or his fingers inside. He gives you neither, relearning the shape of you with lips and teeth and tongue, one of his hands shifting to your pussy so he can spread you apart and taste every square millimeter.

It feels like a lifetime before he finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and your response is instantaneous. Your back arches, your fingers clench in his hair, and your thighs snap closed around his head, making him push them apart with both hands, your pleasure soaked muscles no match for his.

He brings you up just like this, with his palms pressing your thighs apart and his mouth on your clit, sucking and tapping and licking until you feel waves of bliss wash over you in a gentle release that leaves you floating.

That’s just the beginning, you learn, as he lets one thigh fall so he can slide a finger into your still fluttering walls, his lips vibrating around your throbbing clit in a groan that you echo softly. He moves slowly, letting his finger glide in and out even though you both know you’re more than ready for another.

“Jihoon, please,” you begin, lightly tugging on his hair, about to ask him for more.

“You don’t need to beg, baby,” he murmurs into you, sinking a second finger inside on the next stroke and spreading them to open you up. It’ll take more than two fingers to prepare you for his cock after three weeks of nothing, so you lay back and relax, content in the knowledge that soon enough, you’ll have everything you want.

His fingers crook inside of you, stroking along your front wall, feeling for that patch of nerves inside that makes you gush for him. He finds it easily, his calloused, practiced fingertips rubbing and grinding into it, and you can feel the arousal seeping out of you, know it’s probably gathering in his palm now.

He doesn’t care, doesn’t ever care how messy you get him, has even said he loves being coated in you by the end, loves tasting and feeling the physical evidence of how much you want him. It’s obvious in the way he moans when his mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue dipping between his fingers to get a taste at the source before laving up to your clit and wrapping his lips around it.

He sucks hard, and you can tell that he’s starting to lose patience, to lose control, his hunger for you beginning to overcome his desire to be slow and gentle and sweet. That’s more than alright with you, Jihoon has spent enough time showing you how much he loves you, now you’re ready for him to show you how much he wants you too.

When he withdraws his hand and returns with a third finger, you know it won’t be long before he’s filling you with his cock, and you can feel yourself get wetter at the thought. You almost want him to just give it to you now, to work himself inside even if you have to stretch around him, even if it hurts a little.

But you know he’s on a mission so you let him carry it out, sighing at the sensation of false fullness as that burning coil starts to form in your stomach. It winds tighter and tighter as he slides his fingers in and out, every dig of his fingertips into your sweet spot making you gasp and pull his hair. Soon enough, you’re holding him in place and he’s letting you, grunting and groaning as you begin to roll your hips into his movements, his fingers precise and his mouth devastating.

Finally, the coil catches flame and snaps, making your back arch and stealing every last thought in your mind as you cum so hard, you almost force his fingers out. He’s still stronger than you though, so he fights through your tightness to keep fucking you with them, bringing you through your orgasm and slowing only when you release his hair and pet his head with clumsy hands.

When Jihoon comes to hover above you, you’re close to crying, so wrought with feelings and passion and love, you almost can’t handle it. But his face is glistening with you, practically dripping, which makes you choke out a laugh and sweep your finger along his jaw.

You had planned to wipe it off on the duvet but he takes your hand and sucks your finger into his mouth, his eyes locked with yours, the darkness in them vast enough that you fear you might get lost.

He releases your finger and presses his slick lips to yours, his tongue delving into your mouth so you can taste yourself. He cups your cheek with his non-sticky hand and tilts your head, changing the angle of the kiss and making it even deeper, eliciting a quiet moan from you as your legs hitch up on his waist and your arms wrap around his neck.

You flex your legs, trying to bring his hips down to yours, but he stays braced over you, his body still inches away when you want him to be so close, you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

“Jihoon, I want you,” you break away to breathe, gazing into his eyes and watching as he wars with himself.

“I don’t feel like I deserve you right now,” he admits solemnly, his eyelids fluttering when you shift one hand down to touch his rock hard cock.

“What if I think you do?”

“I’m glad you feel that way, but I just wanted this to be about you. I think we should wait,” he gets quieter at the end, as if he’s afraid of your response, and you can’t push him, not when it seems like he thinks you’ll be upset with him for saying no.

“Okay,” you sigh, only the slightest bit of dejection seeping into your voice, though you try not to let it come through.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers before kissing you again. “Why don’t you get the bath started while I deal with this? I’ll come join you after.”

“That’s a good plan,” you smile softly up at him, craning your neck for one last peck before he climbs off of you and lets you go.

You slide to the edge of the bed and stand, about to hobble on shaky knees over to the bathroom when he catches your hand and pulls you between his legs.

“I love you, so fucking much,” he says, his voice wavering and his eyes watery when they meet yours.

You let the words wash over you like an ocean wave, the sentiment cleansing and healing and refreshing to your still-bruised spirit.

“I love you, Jihoon,” you squeeze his hand and lean in when he pulls you, his lips meeting yours before they press to both of your cheeks and your forehead in sweet kisses.

With your heart full of love and light, you make your way into the bathroom and start the tub, focusing on the sound of rushing water and valiantly trying to ignore the muffled noises coming from the bedroom.

You’ve waited for Jihoon before, you can wait for him again.

AN: don't look at me im self soothing

My Masterlist

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azzo0 · 1 month

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Summary: Time and time again, Bakugo swears on every fiber of his being, you're the most beautiful woman to walk this planet.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!chubby!reader

cw's: fluff with nsfw themes, reader has long hair styled into curls, feel free to lmk more in tags

The first time he met you was at Kirishima's housewarming party. He didn't really want to be there when he could be deep asleep in his bed at home after a nice meal and a long, warm bath. He stood by the window alone, sipping on his drink from the plastic cup. He saw a few faces he didn't recognise. Probably one of Pinky's or Shitty Hair's friends, he told himself.

Crimson eyes shifted to the window, tuning out Denki's annoying playlist as he stared at a random spot and zoned out. He snapped back to reality when someone bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink over his new button-up. Lips curled in a scowl, he turned around to tell the stranger to open their eyes and watch where they were going. His words never got to leave his mouth when he laid his eyes on the woman in front of him.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She apologised, grabbing a box of tissues from the little table by the window. She handed it to him, but he was too busy trying not to blush as he admired the woman. She took his lack of response as a sign of annoyance, took out a few tissues from the box and wiped them over his chest as she profusely apologised.

Bakugo watched the way her loose curls bounced over her shoulders, some falling over her ample breasts. His eyes trailed down the little red dress onto her beautiful curves and the soft roll of her tummy, a gentle whisper of feminity and warmth.

"Er- are you alright?" Your voice brought his eyes up to your face again, wild crimson the same shade as his eyes, dusting his cheeks at being caught staring.

"I'm fine," he replied gruffly, "Just watch where yer goin' next time."

"I'm sorry," You smiled. That damn smile that woke up butterflies in his chest, "It's a little hard to walk in these."

"Whatever," He tried looking anywhere but at you unless he wanted to stare again. He couldn't help it. Something about you drew him in like a moth to a flame. He could tell you were shifting awkwardly as you still stood in front of him.

He watched you make a move to leave, his jaw clenching. Out of all his friends, he was the only one left single, something that worried Mitsuki and his friends a lot. He'd gone on dates set up by Mina and Mitsuki, but it never went past the first date. How could he continue something that had no spark in the first place?

But this. This was different.

Something told him it'd be a waste to let you go without another word, "Are you one of Alien's friends?" He blurted, internally cringing.

"Alien? Is that a nickname for Mina?" you grinned at him, unaware of the effect it was having on him, "Yeah, I'm a friend of hers."

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you." You smiled, extending your hand.

"Katsuki." He shook your hand after a moment of hesitation.

Thinking on it years later, he was glad he made a move to talk to you back then. Because now here he is, with you in his arms, with someone to call his.

Over the past few years, he's made it clear how much he loves you and how obsessed he is with every inch of you. He's said it in between sweet kisses, steamy makeouts and long nights making love.

He loves buying you skimpy and expensive dresses that show off your soft, velvety thighs that his hand keep latching onto whenever he sits next to you. You've told him to stop buying you these because they always end up getting burnt or torn when he gets too impatient, but no. He'll keep buying you these over and over again. It's his money; he buys you whatever the fuck he wants.

He loves the squishiness of your breasts, groping them from the back with a sly grin. He could knead them on and on forever if you don't swat his hands away.

He loves the softness of your tummy, where he often rests his head after a tiring day. He loves your gentle voice, lulling him to sleep with your fingers dancing in his hair. He feels at home with his head on your stomach and hand in his hair.

Of course, he loves you from head to toe, but, oh, god, he loves your thighs. It drives him insane when you wear his boxers. He loves how the stretchy fabric clings to your ass and thighs, inviting him to drag you over to the couch so he can press soft kisses and bites to the insides of your thighs. He gives you the most mind-blowing head just so he can hear you scream his name and squish his head in between your thighs.

Most of all, he loves it when you're safe and sound asleep in his arms with your head on his chest. He still feels butterflies the same way he did when he first met you. Looking down at your serene, moonlit features, he moves some hair away from your face, tracing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. As he strokes your hair, he swears on every fiber of his being that you're the most beautiful woman to walk this planet.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n

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chubbyheadquarters · 1 year

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♡First Valentine's Day With Them ♡

Genre: Romantic + Platonic

Pronouns: Gender-Neutral

TW/CW: None

Character(s): LMK Crew

A sorry post for being away for so long. There's another post stating why. Also, this one's a bit long, so prepare! Started writing this three days ago so sorry if there are any grammar errors, I wanted to get this out on time.

🐵Mk🐵

He's so adorable and sweet about it, it's absolutely teeth rotting. He looks up places that he thinks you'll like, see if he can get matching accessories, your favorite flowers. Everyone finds it cute- Pigsy just wishes he would put some of that effort into his deliveries.

When the day comes, he's at your home early in the morning with a giant bouquet and card with a drawing of you two. You gush about it, placing both in a safe place before giving him your gift. He's ecstatic upon seeing it, seeing as it's the new game he wanted so badly! Ugh, he loves you so much. 💖

He'll dash you away to the arcade, trying to win all the prizes he can for you, and after that, it's off to a cute little cafe that just opened. You're both enjoying your time there,goofing off and sharing treats. Of course, you end it off at Pigsy's, getting some noodles and joking around. Pigsy's so happy for his son.

At the end of the day, you thank him for the wonderful and sleep over. He's never cleaned his room do fast before-Mk's really happy that he was able to get you to smile so much. You enjoyed your time with him, and him with you. He couldn't imagine anything more perfect than this. He feels so lucky to have you as his Valentines.

☀️Sun Wukong☀️

Why choose one day to confess your love, when you can do it any or every day? What's special about THAT specific day? He doesn't get it, but he'll try his best. He'll look up what he can do, stuff he can get you, and make a quick pit stop to a food place and get you your favorite foods the day before Valentine's.

He thinks this'll be a peace of cake. After all, he's Sun Wukong! There's nothing he can't do! ... Except get rid of the nervousness that he feels as the day gets closer. What if you think it's too little? Maybe you'll see it as him taking you for granted? That he doesn't care?... Maybe he should improvise his plan a bit more.

Day of, he's at your home, inviting you to Flower Fruit Mountain. You're excited to see what he's planned, since he kept hyping it up. When you arrive, you're bombarded with gifts from the other monkeys. Fruit, flowers, little trinkets they may have stolen from Wukong's stash. It's incredibly cute and has you gushing and hugging them.

He'll bring out the food he got, along with a small cake just for you. It's kind of like a feast, and you're laughing a bit. He's a bit confused, but when you tell him how happy you are to see him put thought into this, he's beaming with pride. After stuffing your faces, you decide to hit the hay, cuddling and whispering sweet words to each other.

🌙Macaque🌙

He thinks it's a bit odd, and silly might he add, but he decides to make an effort for you. He'd start thinking about what to do, maybe make a nice dinner and get you that one item you've been eyeing. End it off with a shared night of cuddles. That should be good, right? Pfft, he's got this in the bag-

No. No he does not. As the day gets closer, he's becoming more nervous. Maybe he could take you out to a nice restaurant? He doesn't have a lot for money, nor does he like being in crowded places, but this IS an important day. He wants you to see how much you mean to him, how much you've helped him. He doesn't want you to think you're being taken for granted.

On the day of, he does his best to act all cool headed, but you can tell he's nervous. Color him surprised as you bring out a stash of gifts, from a bouquet of purple flowers that reminded you of him to an array of his favorite snacks that you personally made. You even got him some art and theatre supplies for if he ever wants to continue on that path.

He can't help but break down. It's been...so long since he's felt such warmth, so much love poured his way. He's been alone for such a long time, so having you here with him and spoiling him makes him feel absolutely blessed. After helping him calm down, you decide to have movie night, laughing and stuffing your faces. He decides that next year, he'll take you somewhere nice. A little vacation for just the two of you.

🐉Mei🐉

You're texted as soon as it hits Valentine's Day. A plaster of heart emojis and an extensive plan to fill up the day. You think it's cute, but with how long the list of locations were, you highly doubted that you'd be able to do everything. Still, you were excited to see what the day would bring.

You're bombarded with gifts. Flowers, chocolates, matching jewels. It's a bit boggling, but it's really sweet. And when you bring up the list, she's dead seat on hitting them all. You've gotta experience the best date after all! You tell her that it's fine if you don't hit them all, and that it's most likely impossible-

Nope. You hit every single location on that list. You we're swept to all sorts of restaurants and had a wide array of sweets/food, gone to the arcade and given all of the prizes. Heck, she even took you shopping to get some matching clothes, along with some she just thought looked great on you.

By the time you're heading home, you've got a large assortment of gifts. Of course, she helps you sort it into your closet and decided to stay the night. After a movie or two, you're passed out from all the energy you've spent. She'll fall asleep right after, dreaming of what she'll do for you next year.

🔥Red Son🔥

Nothing but the absolute best for his beloved. After all, it's what you deserve. Don't worry. He's got the whole day planned out. No need for you to stress about it. He's done all the research he could need, and he's absolutely confident in his plans to woo you. 😎 Liar, he's so fucking nervous.

First, he'll give you the present he's worked so hard on. A sick ass motorcycle. It's okay if you don't know how to ride it. He can teach you, plus more time spent together. Then, he'll take you to the finest restaurant, where it's only you two in a room, since no one deserves to sit in your radiance.

After that, you'll take a walk around the park, just taking in the silence and enjoying each other's company. When that's over, you'll be taken back to his house, where he'll surprise you with a shit ton of more presents he hid in his room. As said before, only the best for you.

When all the excitement has left, and it's just you two watching a movie in his room, he'll hold you close, thanking you for being with him. He didn't expect to find love, because he wasn't really looking for it, but he's glad it found him in the form of you. He can't imagine life without you, nor does be want to.

💙Sandy💙

You and Sandy have been buddies since like, forever, and you've both started the tradition of spending Valentine's together. You don't exactly remember how it happened, but it did and you're so glad it did. It's a nice way to give more gifts and spend another day together. It reminds you of how close your friendship is.

You both decide to go to a cute tea shop near by and talk about anything and everything positive, like what you think your future holds, what hobby you picked up, any new plans? Make any new friends? Others who pass by can't help but feel invigorated by the intense positivity that you and Sandy exude.

At his place, you'll do some yoga, both laughing when either one of you does a silly mistake. Once that's done, you'll help take care of the precious cats and spoil them, giving them their favorite treats and petting them to their hearts content. They'll be laying all over you two as you sit down and enjoy a movie. All around, it's a really nice and calm day.

🐷Pigsy + Tang📕

These lovable idiots probably don't know what to get at first. What do you get your friend that doesn't seem so...cliche? Tang was fine getting you something simple, like those great looking chocolates, but Pigsy wasn't. He wanted it to be more that. I mean, you were their good friend after all! And you've been along for the journey! Gotta spruce it up!

So they play to their strengths and do what they do best. Pigsy makes you a bowl of your favorite noodles-and his best one may he add. Tang, on the other hand, decided to gift you a book that you happened to have your eye on... Along with those nice looking chocolates.

Though Pigsy gets upset, you're quite happy with the gifts, thanking them for caring so deeply. You gift Pigsy a new set of kitchenware, while giving Tang a ticket for a week long bufffet, free, might you add. Safe to say, they were in tears. You all shared the chocolate, happy to spend the day together.

🌕Chang'e🌕

Don't you even worry your pretty little head, she's got this covered. It's all been planned out, so now you just have to wait for Valentine's Day to arrive. It doesn't help your curiosity when she gets excited thinking about it, the way she smiles like she's got it in the bag.

When the day arrives, she's up bright and early, getting the presents ready and later on begins cooking. You can smell it, and before you know it, you're up and heading to the kitchen. To day you were shocked is an understatement.

My girl has literally made you feast, filling the table to the brim with your favorite dishes. Seeing it all makes you hungry, and your crying at how good it is. And if you'll let her, she'll feed you herself. Watching you enjoy her cooking, something she pours her heart and soul into, makes her overjoyed.

Afterwards, you'll take a stroll, cuddling with the rabbits and just goofing around. When it's time for the Valentine's special for her show, you're welcomed as her cooking assistant and partner. It's a bit nerve wrecking at first, but you're both having fun and giggling by the end of it. You've both gotten fan mail and such about how cute y'all are and how they hope y'all stay together forever. She hopes so too.💙

🕷Spider Gang🕷

So, like, they can't really go above the ground, so no surface dates. Buuut that doesn't mean that you can't improvise. You can sneak stuff in and nobody would suspect a thing. And they don't, since they're busy trying to readjust from the LBD incident and get back into the groove.

When Valetines arrives, you're calling everyone go the meeting room, where they see a giant table decked with all the foods, desserts and drinks they like. They're surprised. Don't get them wrong, it's a lovely surprise, but how the hell did you sneak a hug ass table in-

Spider Queen is given a pair of earrings and necklace, along with some wine she had been craving. Syntax was given new parts for him to build with, along with new blueprint paper, since he was running out. Hunstman got a bunch of tea. You noticed him really enjoying some that Sandy gave him so you decided to get him some more. Strong Spider got workout equipment that suited his needs and wouldn't break so easily.

They not able to really show it, since they're not used to it, but they're really happy. You decided to spend this day with them, giving them gifts with thought and love put into them, and spend the rest of the day hanging out and laughing with them. And when they ask why, you're acting like they asked a dumb question. "You guys are my best friends! Of course I'm gonna get you something nice!" Don't look at them they're crying-

🔶Yin & Jin🔷

Ah, these dummies. As we all know, they're not the brightest, but this time, they're using every bit of their brain power to think of what to get you. You're a dear friend, one who's wrecked shit with them, and you're always there for them when they need you.

You're not really expecting anything, since to you, it's just a normal day. So imagine your surprise when these two bombard you with an assortment of random gifts. The food you've been craving, some nice smelling flowers, a bunch of miscellaneous stuff that you remember mentioning. Don't ask them where they got it from-

Y'all play some ping pong and arcade games that they had at home, along with some card games, ending the day off with you making something for them, with the three of you goofing off, laughing and poking fun at cheesy romance movies. All in all, a fantastic day for you three.

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lazypiechi · 9 hours

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Мечта о арбузивных отношениях с чернильной обезьяной... Мы бы отлично сошлись с учётом моей забитости и абсолютной несамостоятельности 👍🫠

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid fanart #lmk fanart #lmk x chubby reader #chubby reader #canon x self insert #lego monkie kid self insert #lmk self insert #self insert #lmk ink mk #lego monkie kid ink mk

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hyukalyptus · 2 months

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yes, please — soobin x fem!reader | est. relationship. NSFW/MDNI!

cw. idol!soobin, nonidol!reader, chubby!reader, jiggle, talks of his abs, reader wears lip gloss, tiddylover!soob, slight exhibitionism, kissing, pet names (baby, love, good boy), some choking, mouth covering (with a hand), dacryphilia, cunnilingus, fingering, licking, soobin tastes sweaty and reader likes it, unprotected sex (pls don't do this), soft dom!soob, nipple play, spanking, creampie, lmk if there are more. notes. smut under cut. wc. 3.2K

“Can you stop?” you ask Soobin sitting on the couch across from you in a small dressing room. Still catching his breath and wiping sweat off his forehead from the concert, he runs his fingers through his damp hair.

“Stop what?” He asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Stop being so pretty.” You bite your lip. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Flashing you a knowing smirk, he asks, “Am I?” He leans forward on the couch, his hand sliding up your thigh feels like someone poured oil on your body and lit a match. The squeeze he gives it is especially too much, making tingles run throughout your whole body. Meeting his gaze, your faces are inches apart from each other while you noticeably glance down at his lips. Those perfectly pillowy and pink and heart-shaped lips that always beg to be bitten and kissed.

“Well, you were when you were wearing that pink sparkly, velvety thing, but now…hm,” you lean back, crossing your arms. “I’m not so sure this is doing it for me,” you say, looking over his post-concert black t-shirt and shorts—which, let’s be honest—is doing it for you. He doesn’t wear shorts often, but when he does, your tummy does backflips.

“You know you love this outfit,” he smirks, rolling your chair closer to him. It takes everything in you to keep from wrapping your legs around his hips right then and there, but you're not giving in yet. Well, not fully. You can’t stop your fingertips from gracing his thigh. “I know you love my thighs.”

That jerk.

His eyes roaming your face, he lingers on your lips, but still. You’re not giving in. Shrugging, you nonchalantly lean back against the chair, crossing your legs.

“Fine,” he chuckles. “If you really don’t like my outfit, then,” he shrugs, unlocking his phone again. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help you." Crossing one leg over his other knee, his shorts ride up, exposing his thigh. Deliberately moving his t-shirt to the side, he exposes his collarbone, making your breath hitch.

He thinks he’s so slick.

“I know what you’re doing,” You roll your eyes. “It’s not gonna work.”

Refusing to look at you, he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe.” His voice is sweet as honey despite his obviously evil intentions. Maybe not evil per se, but certainly not sweet-as-honey intentions.

“Hm.” You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes floating across his broad shoulders and collarbone. You practically salivate thinking about the saltiness of his skin after shows. The muscles in his arms are more defined from performing and his veiny hands are screaming at you. You just want them around your neck.

As you stare at his hands, his fingers stop tapping the screen of his phone. He peeks at you through the hair that fell in front of his face, but his eyes quickly shift to his phone screen when he notices you looking. Resting back against the couch, he takes a deep breath, scrolling through his phone again.

“It’s kinda hot in here, huh?” You ask smugly, lifting your sweatshirt off, the thinness of your tank top barely covering your bare chest and hard nipples. Stretching your arms above your head, you push your chest out, catching his eyebrows raise, but he’s not giving in either.

No matter how tempting your full, bouncy, and jiggly your tits are. No matter how absolutely squeezable they look. No matter how much he wants to feel your hard nipple against his tongue.

He’s not giving in.

Walking to your tote bag in the corner of the room, you bend so your ass faces him, your jeans hugging your curvy hips perfectly. You search for your lip gloss before gliding it over your lips, completely ignoring how obviously he’s ogling at you.

Damn, those lips would look so pretty wrapped around his cock, hm?

Looking over your shoulder, he changes his attention again, acting like he wasn’t staring at you.

“You okay, babe?” you ask. He presses his lips together, exasperating. He looks so cute when he’s flustered. All blushy and smiley and dimpley.

Striding over to him, you rake your fingers through his hair, tracing his jawline, swiping a thumb across his perfect bottom lip. His mouth stays open by itself as you say, “You seem kinda…feverish.” His breath is heavy again, his eyes looking up and down your body, tracing every bump and curve.

He whispers your name.

“Yes, babe?” Bending over, your shirt hangs off your chest, giving him easy access to look at your bare tits being deliberately pressed together by your upper arms.

He swallows hard, looking up at you through his eyelashes and stutters, “You, uh, you dropped your phone.” God, he loves your tits. Always have. Always will. They fill his big hands beautifully. They taste delicious. They bounce gorgeously when he fucks you in missionary.

“Ah, thank you, baby,” you smirk, picking it up, showing off your ass again. He slides down the couch again, blowing air out of his nostrils. While he reaches for a water bottle on the coffee table, you plop back down in your chair. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” he says, inching closer to you, clearly puckering his lips. He knows how much you love them. He even goes so far as resting an arm above your head, pulling his shirt up to show off his toned stomach. Geez, he really is being obvious today.

“I just wanted to say,” you start as he attempts to slyly move his shirt up, exposing more and more skin. “I can see what you’re doing.” Pulling his shirt down with an eye roll, you continue, “Anyway, as I was saying.” He stretches, rubbing his tummy— “Are you trying to seduce me with your tummy?”

“You’re the one that loves my tummy,” he says, holding his hands up.

“It is really cute,” you giggle, your cheeks turning rosy.

“Cute?” He asks, fake offended.

“Sorry, sorry. It is really sexy,” you correct yourself, tracing a finger over his muscles. “So you are trying to seduce me?” You smirk. Opening his mouth to say something, nothing comes out and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Well, you were trying to seduce me with your booty.”

“You were doing it first with your—” you say, pulling your tank top to the side to expose your collarbone.

“And what about your oh, Soobin, it’s so hot in here,” he mimics your accent, stretching his arms above his head, pushing his chest out. Then he pretends to put lip gloss on with an imaginary applicator. “You look kinda feverish,” he says, making kissy noises.

“You’re the one who threw your thighs at me!” You giggle. “You know you have dancer’s legs.”

“Well, you threw your boobs at me,” he says. “You know you have…boobs.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did not throw my boobs at you.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, your gaze lingering, eyeing each other up and down. “Do you wanna have sex or not?” He looks at you innocently, his eyebrows barely raised.

“Yes, please.”

“Then get over here, boo,” you giggle, holding your arms out to him. He stands from the couch, swiftly locking the door. Striding closer to you, he lifts you into his arms, running a thumb over the apple of your cheek before pressing his lips to yours.

Those perfect lips you’ll never get enough of. They’re soft and smooth and mold perfectly to yours. They were made for you.

Holding you tighter, he slowly turns both of you, pushing your back against the door roughly, a gasp leaving your lips. His hand snakes into your hair, pulling your head to the side to trail his lips down your neck. Pushing your shirt up desperately, your chest is exposed, his mouth immediately finding your nipple.

Crouching lower, he kisses your belly, a warm, fuzzy feeling flourishing inside while his lips linger at the top of your jeans. Unbuttoning them, his nails dig into the squishy part of your hips, dipping his fingertips into your waistband. Pulling your jeans off your legs, he throws them behind him.

“Aw,” he chuckles and you look at him questioningly. “These are cute,” he says, running his thumb over your lilac panties covered in tiny blue butterflies, complete with a little bow on the front. Your cheeks turn bright red.

“Soobin—” you exhale. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he smiles, glancing up at you from between your legs, kissing you on the outside of your panties, your hands pulling on his hair. “They’re really cute.”

“Please, babe…” you whisper.

“You’re begging now?” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You have to be quiet.”

After pulling your panties down, he flicks his tongue over your clit while you rush to cover your mouth to muddle your moans, your eyes squeezing shut. Sliding a finger inside you, he chuckles at your desperate attempts to stay quiet.

Fuck, he gives such good head. And he knows it too. He knows how much this drives people crazy. How good he can make someone feel with just his mouth.

Licking his finger clean, he reaches up to squeeze your tit, forcing a grown out of you. Someone walks right outside the door, and you panic, glancing around the room. Hands suddenly restless, his tongue never stops flicking your clit, drawing you right back in.

Trying to control your movements and noise, your back arches and little whimpers sneak past your lips. You can’t help it. He’s way too fucking good at this.

There’s a knock on the door. You gasp quietly, covering your mouth again and look down at him. He holds a finger up to his pouty smile slicked with your wetness and he shushes you, your heart racing. They knock again, but his tongue returns to your clit, making the challenge of staying quiet impossible.

“Soobin?” The person outside says, jiggling the door handle, your breath shallow at the thought of them walking in on you. He ignores them, squeezing the widest part of your hips, increasing the pressure of his tongue.

Pulling his hair to force him to look at you, you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head toward the door. Standing, he whispers, “It’s fine. Just stay quiet, okay?” Pressing his lips to the sensitive skin right below your ear, his breath on your neck sends shivers down your spine.

It takes everything in you to admit this, but you whisper, “I think you should go.” Your chest heaves, but he just shakes his head, covering your shoulder in sloppy kisses, relief running through your veins.

It’s his decision at this point.

“At least fuck me against that wall,” you point your head in the direction of the wall across you. “I think it’ll be obvious from the outside if you fuck me against this door.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Lifting you into his arms by your fingertips, he presses you against the wall opposite of you, massaging your tits. Attacking you with his lips, your chest warms and your shoulders relax at his touch. He pulls away from you, tugging at your bottom lip, making you giggle with him, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts.

He pulls his shorts down to his thighs, gliding his hard cock over your pussy. Your arms instinctively snap around his shoulders, pulling him closer as you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

“Call me crazy,” you sigh, looking into his heavy eyes, glancing down at his swollen lips. “But you always taste so good after shows,” you whisper, dragging your tongue across his collarbone, his chest shaking with his chuckle. Tongue covered in his sweat, salty and mineraly, and absolutely delicious.

Holding your leg in his arm, he uses his other hand to cover your whimpers as he slides inside you, not giving you the usual opportunity to adjust to the feeling of him. You simply feel too good right now. But of course—

“Feel okay?” He asks under his breath, always ensuring you’re having as good of a time as he is. He still refuses to move his hand, only looking for that gentle nod you give him. But he can’t resist kissing you.

Moving his hand from your mouth to your cheek to pull your face closer, he presses his lips to yours again, kissing your furiously, moaning against your lips.

Pulling on his hair, you whisper, “If I’m not allowed to moan, you’re not allowed to either.”

“Fine,” He chuckles. “No moaning.” Thrusting into you deeper, he circles your clit with his thumb, making your head reel. You gasp, biting your lip to keep the no moaning deal you just made. Pressing his forehead to yours, your shared breath on each other’s lips, his thumb moves to circle your nipple, the teensiest, tinsiest moan leaving your mouth.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he shushes you again and you roll your eyes, your hand snaking into his hair, gently tugging at it. As soon as he’s gotten used to not moaning, you pull his hair hard. Gritting his teeth, he hisses, making you giggle.

That would usually draw out an embarrassingly pathetic, utterly sexy moan from him, but— “Aw, you’re being a good boy and controlling yourself tonight, hm?”

His smile drops, his eyes turning dark as he pulls out of you to turn you around. Quickly pushing your chest against the wall, he thrusts inside you again.

“Fuck—” you start, but he shushes you harshly. Looking over your shoulder, he eyes your body up and down, thinking about something, but you just don’t know what. Pulling out of you as quickly as he pushed inside you, he turns you back around and lifts your leg to slide back into you.

“I need to see your face when you come,” he says.

There’s an edge to his smile. Your leg that’s still on the ground shakes from holding yourself up for too long, your head is spinning, your chest is on the verge of exploding.

Then he wraps his fingers around your throat, pressing your neck with your fingertips gently, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

The pleasure is too overwhelming. How deep he is, his hand on your neck, your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. All of that paired with the fact you’re not allowed to make any noise is killing you. The corners of your eyes start to burn.

A few tears stream down your face and he slows his movements, loosening the grip on your neck, looking over your face, noticing the sparkle of pleasure in your eyes, the satisfied smile on your lips. He whispers in your ear, “Do I feel that good, baby?” You nod, pressing your hand to the outside of the one around your neck, silently telling him to tighten his grip.

He picks up speed again, kissing your tears away.

“So good,” you say, managing to keep it at a whisper as your eyes squeeze shut.

Reaching a spot deep inside you, you grit your teeth, your head falling back against the wall, pulling his hair harder than you ever have to let him know how close you are. Lifting your shirt frantically, his tongue finds your nipple while you rub your clit in circles, desperately chasing your orgasm.

The fire in your stomach builds faster and faster, sparks flickering all the way to your toes. His fingers wrap around the back of your neck, pulling your face closer to his, touching your foreheads together.

Your walls clench tighter around him while he covers your mouth with his palm, his deep, dark eyes meeting yours to tell you to come.

He finally pushes you over the edge, coming hard around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Muscles tense and aching as he fucks you through your orgasm, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your entire body.

Catching your breath, he moves his hand to let you smirk at him, his eyebrows furrowed, still focused on chasing his own high.

Burying his face in your neck, he kisses you over and over again, steadying your breath, a low groan coming from his throat. Lifting up to look at you, he says, “You feel—” But before he can finish his sentence, you cover his mouth with your hand.

“You gotta be quiet, baby…” you giggle as he drops his forehead to your shoulder.

“Come here,” he whispers, pulling out of you, bending you over the armrest of the couch and you shake your ass for him. He gives you a loud spank and you turn around to narrow your eyes at him gritting his teeth and eyes widening. “Oops.”

Pressing your lower back, he pushes himself inside you, legs shaking underneath him. He reaches the speed you know he likes, gripping a handful of your hair, holding back his moans. The grip he has on your ass tells you he’s close.

Whispering little encouragements as he chases his high, his hips stutter against your ass. With a few final thrusts, he says your name, twitching and bucking his hips as he finishes inside you. The tight grip he has on your flesh releases as he comes down from high high.

Slowly sliding out of you, he lifts you so your back presses his chest, kissing your shoulder.

Turning around and resting on the armrest, you pull him closer as his chest heaves, catching his breath. He presses his forehead to yours, his breath gracing your lips before he gently pecks them, warmth bubbling in your stomach, rushing to fill your body.

Swaying side to side, he kisses your forehead. His eyebrows furrow, pressing his lips together, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs before he asks, “You okay?”

“Of course,” you answer, pecking his lips. “Why?”

“You were crying.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “Because it felt so good. I thought you knew that?”

“I thought so,” he nods. “I was just making sure. It did kinda scare me.” He pouts.

“Aw,” you wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry.” He smiles, shaking his head. “Thank you for choking me, babe,” you say sweetly, trying to lighten this slight awkwardness. He’s still a bit unsure about you crying, but he knows it’s one of your things. It does turn him on knowing his cock brings tears to your eyes, but it can still be a shock sometimes.

“Thanks for pulling on my hair,” he says, turning to pick up your panties and jeans. When he hands them to you, there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes you feel like the only person in the world that matters. You love that he can do that. That he can make you crumble underneath him to the point of tears, then look at you and tell you he loves you without saying a damn word.

After getting dressed, he’s gathering his things, singing songs under his breath. You hug him from behind, your arms wrapped around his waist.

“You were so sexy tonight, babe,” you say, laying your cheek against his back.

“I know,” he says proudly, wrapping his hand around your forearm. He turns around, looking down at you with the cutest, sexiest eyes. “Thanks for coming everywhere with us. It has been so much fun having you at all our shows.”

“Ah, really?” you giggle. “I was worried I was kinda getting in the way.”

“What? No, of course not,” he says. “You’d never be in the way.”

#hp's writing 🪲#soobin smut #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #choi soobin #chubby reader #soobin x reader #soobin ff #soobin fic #soobin fanfic #soobin x chubby reader #kpop ff #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop smut

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nickfowlerrr · 9 months

Note

Bellllaaaaa hiiii:)

I’m hooked on biker/bartender bucky(even tattoo artist bucky) with fucking Tats right now and I’d totally love if you could maybe write him and chubby/plus sized reader having a flirty relationship, maybe they’re like a fling or something. She works at his bar/tattoo shop, whichever au you pick, and they’re just fucking flirty and so naughty together lol

Smut is always welcomed!!

Thank u bby in advance<3 mwahhh🥺💋

about how it started..

pairing: bartender!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. pining. flirting. smut. a little tiny hint of voyeurism/exhibitionism. if i’m missing something pls lmk!

words: 3.1k

notes: thank you, mickey, for sending this and sorry it took so long! i kind of wanted to incorporate more mention of his tattoos but i felt like i kept screwing it up so i kept it very vague - i’m sorry. but i hope you like this! i really love the idea and i’d love to do more with them in the future, too (including more of his tattoos too 🥴), so thank you, thank you, thank you!! 🥰

also this gif isn’t necessarily the bucky i was picturing but the visible tattoo feels right so whatever 😌

i hope you guys enjoy this! thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. as always, feedback and comments are always welcome and so appreciated! 🖤

You know you should be checking tables right now. You know. But goddamn if you can’t take your eyes off of the brawny, blue eyed, six foot something beauty that is Bucky Barnes.

You’re leaning against the far end of the bar, eyes fixed on him with no plans of trailing anywhere else.

He’s making another Sex on the Beach for the less than subtle, leggy, bleach blonde who’s been fawning over him since she got here. When she and the other college girls showed up, seeming to have already been pregaming, you knew tonight wouldn’t be uneventful.

You could obsess over the fact that the twenty one year old, who looked like she stepped right off a runway, was currently pushing her chest out and twirling her perfectly styled hair as she continued rambling on and on to Bucky, but his disinterest was clear to you as he kept a polite smile and entertained her as he finished the drink.

That, and because you had no right or reason to obsess over who was flirting with him and when.

Right?

You pushed the thoughts away as you admired Bucky’s profile. The way some of his hair had fallen out of his bun and hung around his perfectly sculpted face. How his brilliantly blue eyes shone still through the dark strands. And god did you envy his perfectly shaped nose. Your eyes fell to his lips as he smiled at something the girl said, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care, you were so caught up in the beauty of it. He gave her the drink before he tucked the loose hair behind his ears.

You watched as the girl held out a twenty with a sultry smile and a wink before Bucky took it with a small laugh as she sauntered off back to her friends.

He put it in the cash box and then pushed up his sleeves as he took the time to count out how much the bar had made so far tonight.

You swear your mouth went dry as his tattoos were on display now. The dark ink that told story after story lining his forearm, and though you couldn’t see them right now, led all the way up his strong arm only added to the endless list of things that made him attractive. The artwork was mesmerizing. Just like him.

“You just gonna stare at me your whole shift, sweetheart?” he says to you without looking over, a smirk playing on his lips.

You take in a breath before pushing off the bar and walk over to meet him where he stands.

“Who says I was staring at you?” you question and lean over just slightly to glance at Torres who was pouring shots at the other end of the bar.

Bucky turns to follow your gaze and gives a laugh when he sees who you’re referring to.

“You and Torres, huh?” he plays along, smirk never faltering. He finishes his count and tucks the box back under the bar before he turns fully to you, blocking your view of the younger man completely, not that you cared.

Bucky walks into you, backing you up until you’re forced into the dead corner of the bar. You nearly stop breathing when he leans into you, his cologne invading your senses, his warmth surrounding you as he keeps you trapped between him and the bar, his thick arms on either side of you. Your lips part on an inaudible gasp when his lips brush against your ear.

“He know I was guts deep inside you last night? How you were screaming my name, begging me not to pull out? So fuckin’ desperate to be full‘a me,” he reminds you as his hands find your waist and he squeezes your softness before pulling you flush against him and letting his hands slide down to your ass. “How many times did you come again? I think I lost count,” he taunts as he leans over you and gropes you shamelessly.

You can see out past his shoulder as he nearly nuzzles into your neck, your eyes growing heavy with desire as your lips stay parted in heated awe.

Your eyes meet the blonde Bucky had just served as she looks on in a bit of a stupor before blinking and turning away with a hint of a blush warming her cheeks.

“Watch it, Barnes. You’re gonna lose out on tips if you’re not careful,” you warn playfully, if not a bit breathily.

When he starts kissing your neck, your knees become unsteady as a warmth starts to grow in your tummy.. and lower. Your hands latch onto the front of his shirt in an effort to stay steady.

You’ve noticed he’s been getting more brazen every day, more teasing and touching when he knows full well people can see, and the fact that he really doesn’t seem to care sparks a bit of hope that maybe this could grow into something more than what it started as.

But as Bucky nips and then gently kisses your pulse point, all thoughts fly right out the window as your main focus is solely on not melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Don’t care,” he says against your delicate skin, placing another kiss to your neck before you push him back just slightly. “What?” he asks as a half smile adorns his face when he stands up straight again, looking down at you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish right now,” you say as you hold his smoldering gaze.

“You think I won’t fuck you right now?” he challenges, his seriousness sending a thrill up your spine.

You let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh as you push him to turn around. “I think you have some patrons waiting for your attention,” you say, ignoring the desire burning deep within at his words.

He sucks his teeth as he walks back over to the lively area of the bar, but not before eyeing you with a look that promises he isn’t done with you tonight.

You watch him back before spinning around and coming out from behind the bar to start checking tables.

—

You’re leaning over a newly emptied table close to the bar when you feel his heavy gaze on you.

The low cut scoop neck of your top already offered a generous view of your cleavage, but as you’re leaning over to wipe the table down, you’re sure he can see right down your shirt. You hide your smirk as you walk around the table and make a show of leaning over once more, your tight black skirt that hugs your tummy riding up your thick thighs as you do. You’d forgone underwear under your opaque black tights and wonder for a second how much he can see as you bend further over the table.

You don’t have much time to wonder as suddenly Bucky is right up behind you. You stand up against him, your ass brushing against his crotch. His hands are on your skirt as he adjusts it back down for you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, voice low and husky.

“Cleaning a table,” you answer innocently as you stay where you are, enjoying the feeling of his large hands on your wide hips and his solid chest at your back.

“Yeah? Cuz from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re purposely being a little tease.”

“Me?” you say in faux offense, turning to face him. “I’d never. Just doing my job, boss.”

He pushes you back against the table just slightly, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t been thinking about how hot it’d be if I came up behind you, ripped your tights open and fucked you stupid right here on this table?”

You swallow hard as you feel yourself growing wet at the scene that plays out in your mind. The bar is near empty as you’re both getting ready to close up but the idea of Bucky taking you right here and now, onlookers be damned, has heat creeping up your skin.

“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” you whisper wantonly, eyes swimming with lust.

A sinful growl escapes him as he presses himself closer to you. You can feel his growing bulge against you and it takes everything in you to not let out the whimper that threatens to slip past your lips.

Joaquin left twenty minutes ago after him and Bucky served last call, so it’s just you two and the lingerers who are slowly making their way out.

“What am I gonna do about it?” he repeats as his hand comes up to hold your chin. He leans down, face to face with you as he continues headily, never taking his eyes off yours, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid. Right here. On this table,” he breathes each sentence before he finally takes your lips in his. It’s gentler than you expect as your eyes flutter shut and the sound of the entrance door closing behind the last patron signals that you’re alone now.

You sigh into his mouth before you pull him closer, the kiss growing more heated with each moment that passes.

You let Bucky ruck up your skirt as your hands fumble with his belt before you start working on his button and zipper. You stop him for just a second, grabbing his hand, “You rip ‘em, you buy ‘em,” you tell him, earning a grin from him.

“Deal,” he says before easily tearing your tights and turning you around, forcing you down against the table.

“No underwear, huh?” he taunts as he rips your tights even more, his thick fingers wasting no time in playing with your wetness on full display for him.

Your legs are spread as you moan at the delightful feeling of his fingers pushing into your sex, opening you up for him as he scissors his fingers inside your tight heat before curling them the way he knows you like.

“Fuck, Bucky, please,” you whine as you clutch onto the table, pushing your hips backs and trying to fuck yourself on his hand.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re perfect,” he swears before landing a stinging slap to your ass and pulling his fingers out. He quickly tugs down his jeans and frees himself from his boxers, his erection hot, heavy, and throbbing.

“Make me so fuckin’ hard, you know that?”

You only mewl in response as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you. He doesn’t have as much patience as he normally does, though. He’s been thinking of you nonstop since you left his apartment this morning. Been wanting you close again from the second you left his bed.

He knows this was just supposed to be a fun fling, but from the first time he kissed you, he knew he was done for. He knew he’d only want more.

And he was right.

He wanted all of it with you, not just sex. He wanted to spend his days cuddling you in his bed, watching movies, talking about nothing; hell, he even had to stop himself from texting you the other day to see if you were busy when he had to go get groceries because he wanted your company.

He was hooked on you completely.

But this “fling” was your idea and he didn’t want to run you off with the idea of commitment so soon. So for now, this would have to do. And who was he to complain about the nights he got to spend flirting with you, teasing you, taking you apart only to put you back together in his arms come morning.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as the head of his cock catches along your slick entrance, a hiss emanating from him as you gasp at the feeling.

He slowly lets himself push in, deeper and deeper until his hips are flush against your ass and he’s filling you completely.

Your soft moans urge him on as he begins to fuck you, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the quiet of the empty bar. As he starts to thrust harder, the squelching noises of your fucking grow louder and louder as you moan without care, your hips hitting the edge of the table over and over with his every thrust.

His hands frame your waist as he holds you tight, rutting ever deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you whine and gasp in pure pleasure, the coil in your belly tightening with each glide of his cock along your walls and every nudge against your g-spot. Bucky slips a hand down and finds your puffy clit, circling it as he feels you getting closer, your walls squeezing him tighter and tighter.

Your toes are curling in your shoes as your feet arch and slip against the floor when the muscles in your legs and core tighten and strain as your walls clench down on his thick cock and your orgasm hits you hard.

In the same instance, Bucky growls as the swinging of the entrance door sounds. You don’t even bother to look up as you’re lost in the euphoria of your high.

“We’re closed,” Bucky barks, his hips never faltering as he continues to fuck you while your eyes screw shut in overwhelming pleasure.

You vaguely hear a fumbling apology and the door closing once more as Bucky buries himself inside of you, leaning over your bent body and rutting into you as his groans and moans tumble heavily from his lips. With one more thrust, you sigh breathily as you feel him spill inside of you.

The weight of his body on top of yours is a comfort you can’t help but revel in as he holds you still and gets all of his release out, your velvety walls milking his cock as he fills you with his hot come.

He’s breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm and gently pulls his cock out of you. You instinctively press your legs together, your thick thighs making it easy. You push yourself up off the table after a moment and turn around, fixing your skirt as you do.

“Fuck,” you breathe under your breath happily. “Maybe lock the door next time?” you suggest playfully, “Or, at least turn the ‘OPEN’ light off.”

“Next time?” Bucky says with a raised brow and a smirk as he fixes his pants. “You like getting fucked in the bar that much?”

“Well, you did say something about fucking me stupid.. And not that that was bad at all, but, I’m not feeling very stupid right now.”

He licks his lips as he takes you in, taking your hands in his and tugging you close. “Why don’t you come home with me and I’ll get you there,” he says smoothly.

“That’d make it three nights in a row,” you say, a little unsure. “You sure you wanna risk it? I might not wanna leave.”

“I might not want you to,” he says, surprising you by how soft and sincere his voice is.

You meet his eye and swear you could drown in the glimmering blues as he smiles that schoolboy smile. You let out a shaky, nervous laugh.

“You fallin’ for me, Barnes?” you tease playfully - just a hint of hope laced in your tone.

He surprises you again as he takes hold of your chin, peering deep into your eyes, before he brushes his nose against your, his lips inches away from your own as you breath each other in for a second.

And then he kisses you.

Soft, yet firm and as you lose yourself in it, a deep yearning for Bucky that you’ve kept down from day one rears her head once more.

You part for a second to breathe before you crash your lips into his again, pulling him closer to you by the front of his shirt.

Your tongues glide against one another as he slips his in expertly before kissing you deeply.

He lets his forehead fall to yours as he parts from you.

You're breathless as he wears a nervous smile you’ve never seen on him before.

“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” he repeats your earlier taunt, trying to hide his anxiousness as he waits for you to respond.

You suck your lip as you consider him, biting back the smile threatening to take over your face.

“I’d tell you that, maybe, I’ve fallen for you, too,” you admit shyly, looking up to see his cocksure smile back in full force, just the way it always is.

“Then I’d tell you to take me back to your apartment,” you say, leaning into him for another sultry kiss. “So you can fuck me stupid,” you breathe against his lips, “as many times as you want.”

You nearly squeal as you're taken off your feet in the next second, Bucky’s strong arms holding you securely as you wrap your own around him.

“That I will happily comply with,” he says, kissing you hotly as you smile into it. You pull away just slightly to speak.

“We didn’t finish closing,” you laugh.

“Don't care,” he says, kissing you again as he easily walks to the bar, holding you with surprising ease that you aren’t sure you’ll ever get used to before he sets you down. “We can do it tomorrow,” he excuses, grabbing his keys from behind the bar and flicking the lights out. You grab your jacket and bag from the shelf you kept them on and follow behind Bucky as he locks the doors, escorting you out and to his car.

Before you get there, he turns on you, both of you stopping in your spots.

“We really doing this?” he asks, wanting to make sure this is really what you want, too.

You smile and nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He lets himself smile in return.

“So I can call you mine, now?” he asks, grabbing your hand, pulling you to him.

“I’d be good with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure? Cuz once we make this official, I’m gonna let everyone know. I might never shut up about it.”

You can’t help but laugh at how excited and proud he sounds. “I think I’m okay with that,” you smile up at him, meeting his lips in another kiss before he leads you to the car and opens the door for you to get in.

You know you’re okay with that. It’s what you’d been hoping for from the first time you’d kissed, for this to lead to something real, something more. Now here you were.

He wanted to officially call you his, and Bucky was finally, truly yours.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky x reader #bartender!bucky #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x you

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cowboycoups · 8 months

Text

What an odd request.

Pairing: fem!reader x Seungcheol

Wc. 1.8k

Summary: You ask Seungcheol if you can ride his thighs lol

Warnings: smut!, porn no plot, afab reader, pet names, gendered terms, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, squirting, teasing, reference to weight/size (but not actually), reference to Seungcheol teasingly being called “chubby” by members

Author note: First time writing like.. ever,, was just horny at three in the morning lol. Feel free to leave me some suggestions on what to improve on. I also am blind so lmk if there are any errors

—

“Really? Did I just hear that correctly?” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. “You wanna try doing what..?” he repeats himself as he looks down at you in question with his arm still slung around your shoulder.

“…I want to… try riding your thigh…” you quietly respond, avoiding his eyes as you slouch down into the bed further.

Riding Seungcheol’s thighs was something you've thought about for a while now. Every time you came home to him wearing that same pair of shorts that he always wears, you couldn't help but steal a glance at his bulky thighs.

His friends always teased him for them, calling him chubby, but not you. You liked the fact that he's actually got meat on his bones. You knew that he worked hard in the gym every day to build up his muscles, and obviously, that included his thighs.

“What? I couldn't hear you” Seungcheol says with a grin as he leans forward and turns his head to look you directly in the face.

“I wanna ride your thighs damn it!” you shout back in frustration from his teasing, shocking him a little and causing him to jerk himself back.

“If you really want to then we can try it.” he kisses your cheek, leading into a deeper kiss. His arms shift from over your shoulder to around your waist as you slowly begin to feel up his shirt. You start to feel the bulge forming in his pants after you lower your hand and smile through your kiss. “Strip.”

He obediently listens and removes his tee in one go, pulling his shorts down quickly after. He watches you as you scan his body, slowly lowering your eyes. God, he's just so hot.

There they were. In all their glory. Your main objective. Just the sight of them alone with your constantly running mind was enough to get you wet.

You pull down your panties as you watch him lean back into the bed, waiting patiently for you to mount him.

You smile as you throw a leg over his and begin to move. As soon as you climb on top of him, he lets out a small breath of air. His body shuddered as he felt your weight on his lap. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting out soft moans as he enjoyed the feeling of you grinding against him.

You ground into his thigh slowly, holding yourself up with one hand on the bed. You could already feel how wet you were as you moved, how sensitive you were. I mean, come on. This was a dream come true. Literally.

You run your other hand up your chest, squeezing yourself in pleasure before locking eyes with his bulge, widening your eyes as you reach down for him.

The moment you grabbed his crotch, he immediately let out a gasp. A pure look of bliss came across his face as he arched his back off the bed, pushing himself closer toward you.

It looks like you weren't the only one wet. You could see the small stain of precum forming on his boxers. You shove your hand down them to grab his cock, leading it over his stained fabric.

You watch as his cock rises and he begins to turn red. He felt so powerless with your eyes watching him closely like daggers. I mean, you were on top of him with his cock in hand. There was nothing he could do. He bit down on his lip at the thought of what you might do to him next.

“Flex your thighs for me so I can rub against them,” you instruct him. Instantly, he lifted his thighs to make it easier for you to rub your pussy onto him. He grunted as he felt your heat surrounding his cock, causing it to pulse with excitement.

You continued humping him and grinding against his thighs, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body with every movement. You moaned as you glided your folds over the firmness of his muscles.

He let out another loud moan as he felt your hand begin jerking him off. The sound of your voice sent chills down his spine as he struggled to stay conscious. The view of you on top of him was just too much to handle.

You jerked at him faster, the sudden increase in speed causing him to gasp loudly. You knew exactly which buttons to push to make him lose control completely. It seemed like every time he thought he had reached his peak, something new would happen that pushed him even further toward orgasmic bliss.

Your body shuttered from the sensation of running over his muscles, retracting your body in as you hit your parts of pleasure, gripping his cock tighter every time it happened.

His breathing became heavier again as he looked up at you. His face displayed signs of embarrassment and shame yet also excitement and anticipation. After a few seconds, he closed his eyes tightly and let out a deep sigh. "Oh gosh…this is so weird...but please don't stop..."

You jerked at him even faster than before after a quick moment of slowing down. As soon as you began to move faster, he opened his eyes wide once more. The look of shock and surprise mixed with lustful desire on his face made him look incredibly vulnerable and helpless towards you right now. He didn't know if he should be happy or embarrassed by how turned on he was becoming.

“Do you wanna cum?” you ask with a grin, already knowing his answer. He eagerly nodded his head and plead “P-please help me cum.. Please let me cum.”

He groaned loudly as your movements intensified. His entire body tensed up and his grip tightened around the bed even further.

As he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, he could barely hold back anymore. "I'm… going to...cum!" he shouted desperately, hoping that you would allow him.

“What about you do it inside me?” you asked him, taking a second for him to process what you had just said. He hesitated for just a moment longer. "...What are you saying? Would y-you really let me?” he asks with a shaking voice.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard. While he found the act incredibly arousing, the two of you have only ever used protection in the past.

As you got up and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, he could feel his entire body tense up again. Despite being incredibly turned on, the fact that he was now inside you bare made his stomach drop. It was a new feeling he had never felt before.

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, which only served to make him seem even more nervous. “…Is this really okay with you?" He asked quietly, unsure if he should continue or not.

You begin to bounce up and down on him, responding to his question with your actions. He let out another long moan as you bounced. The sensation of being inside you was unbelievable and he could already tell that he wouldn't be able to last much longer without climaxing.

You fasten your pace, tightening your pussy around him, causing him to roll his eyes back as he continued to let out soft moans. “Cum for me,” you demand as you observe his state.

Without hesitation, he let out a loud grunt as he came violently inside of you. The feeling of release was beyond belief and he couldn't help but release a quiet moan as he continued to pump his load inside of you.

You got off of him and laid beside him as you continued to play with yourself, rubbing his cum all over your filled pussy.

His breathing slowed down as he looked at you. A small smile formed across his lips as he saw how eager you were. "Thank you..." he whispered softly into your ear, stroking your cheek gently as you twitched from the feeling of his breath on you.

You smirk as you get back up and over him. You spread your folds apart and lower yourself into him once more, this time using his cum as lube.

He watched silently as you rode him again, letting out a low chuckle as he saw how easily you slipped onto his shaft once more. "Oh? Again? You're enjoying yourself too much." He teased, smirking at you playfully as he ran his fingers through your hair.

His eyes widened as you moved faster, almost like you were trying to outrun him. He let out a soft moan before grabbing your hips, his face contorting as he brought you closer to him, feeling your pussy rubbing against his cock in perfect synchronization. "Mmm…just like that.”

“Aren’t you tired? You just came.” you raised your eyebrows, surprised by his actions. You could feel his cock reach even deeper inside you now since he pulled you down closer to him.

A slight smirk appeared on his face as he shook his head slowly. "I'm not done yet... Not until we both reach our peak together." He said calmly, looking deep into your eyes with confidence. "Just keep going, sweetheart…Keep riding me like this..."

Taken aback by his words, you began bouncing once more. Hearing him say that to you made you even hornier than before. Your heart beat faster and you began to gain more energy in your movements.

As you moved on top of him, Seungcheol began moaning louder than before. It seemed like every time you would go up, he'd push himself deeper inside of you. Your breasts bounced wildly each time you went up, making sure they stayed covered by your shirt throughout the whole process.

The moment was finally here. With one final thrust, he slammed his cock fully inside of you, causing it to hit your womb hard. The two of you moaned loudly as you reached climax.

With a loud groan, he shot his second load deep into you. His entire body trembled as he released his warm seed in you, filling you with his hot cum.

Your legs shook as you squirted on him, letting a deep breath out as you made your final movements with your eyes closed and head thrown back, arching as you shook.

After you both released, he pulled back slightly so only half of his length remained inside of you. As soon as he did this, he grabbed onto your waist firmly once again, pulling you closer toward him while still lying flat on the bed. "Good girl..."

#seventeen #kpop #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #scoups #scoups smut #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seventeen seungcheol #cheol x reader #cheol smut #thigh riding #sub!seungcheol #sub!scoups

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frenchkisstheabyss · 10 months

Text

♡ 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖 "ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤" ♡

♡ Mature Content! Minors DNI! Warnings below the break ♡

♡ Pairing: ot8!boyfriend!ateez x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: A nice, calm, wholesome movie night with your boyfriends except I lied and nothing but absolute filth happens.

♡ Genre: smut with a sprinkle, a smidge, a barely visible flake of plot

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: (issa lot happening so pls lmk if I miss anything) masturbation (f), use of toys (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), anal penetration & eating (f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know not to do that irl!), creampies, edging, double vaginal penetration, things get rough, scratching, gagging, pet names (good girl, bad girl, slut, le usual)

♡ A/N: I wrote this with the intention of writing this soft, romantic piece but my mind got lost in the gutter and built a home there so here we are. Thanks to @anyamaris for supporting me in my nonsense as she always does.

Even with the air conditioner on, a wave of heat washes over you. Two fingers---your fingers---press firmly against your clit. You know your body better than anyone in this room. Every flick of your wrist makes your walls clench around the vibrator Hongjoong’s fucking you with. The ultra-soft silicone curves to rest its flat tip directly on your g spot. He keeps it at medium speed, the low hum of the toy a hypnotizing instrumental to the weakened moans leaving your lips. “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, delicately kissing your thigh. And you are.

Lying in the middle of your living room floor on a pile of the fluffiest pillows, you’re the prettiest thing any of them have ever seen. The plan had been to watch a movie. Horror---comedy---who cares? How could they watch anything but you? Legs spread wide. Pussy weeping, begging you to keep going just like that. Your panties, moist beyond measure, are looped around your ankle. The tight plaid mini skirt you wear is pushed up, not denying them a bit of your plush belly. Your nipples are two, tightly beaded indentations in your black crop top. They brush against the cotton each time your chest rises, turning you on even more.

It’s getting harder to play with your clit. Your muscles are tensing like a rubber band stretched near its breaking point. Your wrists are going limp. Your legs are shaking, causing your thighs to jiggle so deliciously that Hongjoong can’t resist nibbling at them. What he loves, what gets him off the most, is simply to watch you make a mess of yourself. “Mmm, Joongie. I’m gonna cum---” you gasp, arching against the pillows. Hongjoong’s laugh is nearly undetectable but you hear it, oozing lust. He’s happy with himself and with you. Pulling the soaked vibrator from your core, he pushes three fingers into you.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my fingers.” Hongjoong moves your hand away from your clit, wrapping his lips around it in a small O shape. Your arms fall above your head, your head turning to catch Yunho staring at you from the couch. Yunho looks spaced out. It’s as if his mind is off somewhere far away but that couldn’t be further from the truth. His mind is on you and no one else. It's fixated on the way your eyelids flutter when Hongjoong suckles at your clit. It’s committing to memory that sweet little smile you shoot him right before you lose control of your body.

Hongjoong’s been edging you for an hour all for this moment when he can finger you hard and fast, tonguing your clit as pleasure rips through your body. You’re grabbing at nothing---at anything---to ground yourself but it’s no use. “Hongjoong. Fuck” you whine, struggling to find your breath, “I can’t. Too much. Too---fuck.” Wooyoung rises from his spot on the recliner to kneel above your head. “Let me help” he coos, kissing you on the forehead. His fragrant sable locks dance around your cheeks like curtains, shutting out the rest of the world.

Smooth hands massage their way up your arms, loosening your muscles as they tighten. Fingers press into your shoulders---tickle your collarbone---traverse the arches of your breasts to circle your nipples. Woo slips your shirt up, laying his hands flat on your breasts. He kneads them, pinching your nipples in his palms. “Woo---” you moan, “Joongie---ah.” You mindlessly writhe beneath them. Hongjoong’s knuckles are grinding against your slit. His fingers---they’re so deep---spreading you open even wider.

Woo smiles down at you and there’s something so genuine about it because it is. “He’s right---” he says, “You’re so beautiful.” Woo drags his tongue across your lips just as Hongjoong’s tongue swirls between your pussy lips. There’s an audible squelching sound when his fingers pop out of you, the suction of your walls holding onto him for dear life too relentless to let him go quietly. Hongjoong gets up on his knees, sucking at his fingers, and admires the way you’re still clenching for him. He’d edge you more---keep you like this all night---but he knows he has to share.

With one last kiss which he plants on your lower belly, he leaves you in Woo’s capable hands. Woo reaches over you to run a finger across your slit and you giggle at how much it tickles. When he leans forward you get a clear view of how hard he is and catch yourself salivating. You bring a hand up to rub against his bulge. A groan emerges from somewhere deep within him, “Bad girl.” Still a tad loopy from your orgasm, you fumble your way up onto your knees. “But you love it, don’t you?” you tease, your hand reaching down to rub against him again.

Woo nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling you closer to him. You run your fingers through his hair, tucking a rogue strand behind his ear, “Up.” One word spoken in the singsong voice of an angel such as yourself has him up on his feet without question. Just as you reach for Woo’s zipper, strong arms grab you from behind, locking you in their embrace. “Choi San!” you gasp, admiring that dimpled grin of his, “I’m kinda trying to focus here---” San kisses down your neck, dipping one hand between your thighs.

His other hand cradles your chin, fingers pinching into your cheeks, and turns your head back towards Woo where a throbbing cock, arousal moistening the tip, waits for you. “Then focus---” San says, lightly squeezing your cheeks. You let your tongue fall free, resting it on the underside of Woo’s cock. Rolling it around his sensitive tip, you collect the warm salty liquid on your tongue. San lets go of your cheeks, giving you the room to bring your hand up and grip Woo’s base. You glance up at him and he’s already fixed on you. They stay that way as your fingertips trace the veins traveling up his shaft, stroking back to his base and starting all over again.

San raises your ass enough to slip his cock between your thighs. Somehow he’s even harder than Woo and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You wanna fuck me, Sannie?” “Hmm, is that how we ask?” he growls into your neck, grinding against you. Poking your ass out, you lay your head back onto his shoulder, “I want you to fuck my tight little cunt, Sannie. Please.” San grips you by the hips, sinking into you with zero patience. A vibrator has nothing on San’s cock. Woo tangles his fingers in your hair, sliding his thickness between your lips.

Bobbing your head back and forth, you suck your cheeks in---fan them out---mimicking the exact thing your pussy’s doing to San’s cock. It’s a flawlessly choreographed dance between the three of you. San bucking his hips, feeding you every inch. You rolling back against him, taking him like a--- “Pretty little slut---” San’s panting, the slobber dripping down your chin from sucking Woo off making you look like exactly that. Woo holding your head steady while you pump his glistening length, your hand and mouth working together to put his stomach in knots.

With Woo stuffing your cheeks, your screams are muffled when San picks up his pace. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he says, slapping you on the ass. “Mmpphh” is all you can manage, Woo’s cock hitting the back of your throat. Woo and San bounce you back and forth, whispering praises that have you back on the edge in no time. Your hips stutter, cluing San in that you’re close, and his pace becomes unforgiving. Woo scoops up one of your breasts, pinching your nipples, feeling their weight in his hand. “Don’t stop---shit---y/n. So good. Don’t---” Woo twitches between your lips, pumping his seed directly down your throat.

Never one to be wasteful you drink him down, massaging his balls with your free hand. “Fuck---pussy’s so good y/n---gonna cum” San hisses and you’re cumming again. He cums with you, ropes of white painting your insides from the other end. Woo leans forward, kissing your puffy lips, “I’ll get you some water.” “And a popsicle please.” Woo and San look at each other---back at you---at each other---back at you. San straightens out your skirt, “What for?” Your gaze dances over to Seonghwa and the two of you immediately begin to blush. “We---uh---” Seonghwa stutters, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yeosang politely moves Woo and San away from you. “Excuse me. Sorry” he apologizes, moving between them to sweep you up into his arms, “We’ll get the water.” It’s not that you don’t know Yeosang can pick you up but every time he does you melt. Yeosang carries you toward the kitchen and Seonghwa’s right behind him. “And the uh---yeah.” Jongho hops up to follow them, pushing through San and Woo with zero of the politeness Yeosang offered. “Thanks though” he grins, patting Woo on the shoulder, “But not really.”

“Oh my---that’s---that” you gasp, pleasantly surprised at how much you enjoy the sensation. Seonghwa bending you over your dresser and swirling a popsicle in your asshole wasn’t on your 2023 bingo board but he has you wondering why it never was. The chill of the popsicle is calming in a way. You were overheating for a bit there but now? You feel tingly all over. With the popsicle melted and your thighs coated in drips of sticky, strawberry syrup, Seonghwa goes to work licking it off of you. His long tongue trails up your left thigh---down your right thigh. It comes back up to your ass, nibbling at the plush cheeks and making you squeal. He stays there for a second kissing them, massaging them, tickling them with the tip of his tongue.

“Hwa---mmph” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he tongues your candy-coated asshole. Imagine having an itch. Not just any itch. One of those itches that makes it difficult to focus on anything else. One of those itches that refuse to be ignored. But you can’t reach it. No matter how hard you try, your arms just aren’t reaching until---oh god---you finally do. You scratch it and it’s so good that your legs could give out. Nothing, not a single thing, compares to how uniquely amazing that feels. That’s what it feels like to have Seonghwa making figure eights in your ass like his tongue's a professional figure skater.

While you’re bent over seeing stars, he maintains a shaky hold on his cock. Each stroke is slow and deliberate, in sync with yours. “Fuck, you taste so good” he mumbles, fully prepared to smother himself if it means tasting as much of you as possible. You hear a moan you’ve heard a dozen times before. Seonghwa tries to suppress them when he cums even though you wish he wouldn’t. Usually, he hates being messy but his cum has already glazed over his hand and the afterglow is heaven. “Fuck it,” he says to himself, falling across the bed. Spinning around you come face to face with Jongho. “Hey ya cutie” you beam, poking his cheeks.

Sometimes people say that he’s scary, mean even, but when you look at him all you see is your cuddly bear. You drape your arms over his shoulders for support, “Your turn?” Jongho effortlessly lifts you onto the dresser, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And he has. “My turn.” He presses the head of his cock against your clit and there they are again. The hot flashes. That thin layer of perspiration on your skin. Jongho grabs your arms, pinning them behind you, and drives into you. “You’re still so wet.” “Not still” you whisper, “This is just for you.” Jongho thrusts into you and you’re full again, his cock much thicker than you remember.

Your exhausted muscles can hardly hold up to being fucked this hard but you don’t have to worry about that. In his arms, you don’t have to worry about anything besides feeling good. He could keep you steady all night if Yeosang weren’t snatching you away, tossing you on the bed. “Yeosang!” you shout, sliding back on the bed, “You can’t just throw people around like that!” Yeosang climbs on top of you, pushing your shirt up, “I can’t?” He brushes a thumb across one of your nipples, lapping at the other as his fingers massage your breast. “You can---shit---do it again” you surrender between shallow breaths.

Yeosang slips into you, his cock pulsing in time with each rise of his hips. His defined arms slip beneath your body, hands locking just behind your back. When he flips you over on top of him, it’s like your whole world’s been turned on its side. He bounces you up and down in his lap, the tremors traveling far behind your core. Just as he picks up a rhythm Jongho tears you away from him, propping you up against the wall. You’d make some smartass comment about Jongho not being good at sharing. If only there were time enough for that.

His arms are already tucked behind your knees, supporting your weight as he fucks you against the wall. “You’re such an addictive little slut, you know that?” he says, and your heart flutters. You just love when he sweet-talks you. The angle he has you at is perfect for stimulating your g spot. He’s bumping right up against it and you’re clamped down around him, as addicted to him as he is to you. “Can I borrow this?” Yeosang asks, peeling you away from Jongho and tossing you back onto the bed.

This time you’re on your knees. All fours is simply out of the question with how completely destroyed you are. “Are you just gonna toss me around all night?” you whine, burying your face in the blankets. Seonghwa lays his head beside yours, nuzzling up to you. “Of course not” he assures you, his voice warm and comforting, “I won’t throw you around when I have you. A light roll maybe---”

“Pirates! Cowboys! Biker gangs!” you mumble incoherently, jolting awake. Shaking off those incredibly strange dreams, you realize that you’re still in bed. Judging from how dark it is in your room, it’s well past midnight. You must’ve fallen asleep after what your aching muscles are telling you was a wrestling match with a bear. A barely awake Yunho tightens his arm around you from behind, “Cowboys? I’ll do anything for you but I am not putting on a cowboy costume.” “I will,” Mingi yawns, cuddling up closer to you from the other side, “I get nice boots. Probably a cool jacket. Ooh, some guns---”

“There are no guns!” you interrupt, “When did you two even get in here?” Yunho shrugs, “A few hours ago. You never came downstairs and we missed you.” The “we” he’s referring to is obvious when you notice how hard he is against your back. “You fell asleep on us” Mingi pouts, a hand running up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You drape a leg around his waist, smooching him on the nose, “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” Mingi pouts even more, knowing how soft you go for him when he does this. “That! You guys are both being so---” “So?” Yunho asks, his long fingers reaching between your legs to stroke your pussy.

You shiver at the contact. Having Yunho behind you, his cock pressing into the small of your back, his fingers teasing you, makes your heart race. Mingi spreads your thighs, giving Yunho more than enough room to curl his fingers into you. “Finish what you were saying.” “I---uh---” “Uh---uh” Mingi mocks, petting your cheek. You move to playfully slap him but he grabs you by the wrist, kissing you before you can even consider trying anything else. Yunho eases a third finger into your core, “You like it when I play with your little cunt, don’t you?” “Mm-hmm” you hum, lidded eyes glossing over.

Yunho stays focused on tapping your sweet spot while Mingi hypnotizes you with his lips. Mingi has you so drugged, so completely entranced, that you don’t even notice when one of Yunho’s fingers is replaced with his. It’s not until there are four of them inside of you, two of Mingi’s and two of Yunho’s that you feel the difference. Feel the intensity of the stretch. “I think she likes it” Mingi grins, rubbing his thumb against your clit. Yunho follows suit, slipping a thumb into your ass. “Fuck---yes---Yunie---Mingi---mmm!” you cry out, so overstimulated that your eyes begin to water.

They grind into you harder, forcing out screams louder than any you’ve made tonight. “Please---inside of me---wanna feel you. Both of you” you whine, so lost in how badly you want them that you don’t realize what you’re asking. Mingi slides his hand out, smearing your juices between your folds, “Aah, she’s adventurous tonight. You sure you can handle that?” “I-I can. Ah, shit. I need it.” Yunho spreads his fingers in a V, rolling them around inside of you, stretching you from every angle. Mingi brings the head of his cock to splash in the juices leaking from your needy core and Yunho pulls out of you, focusing instead on freeing himself from his pants.

For a fleeting moment, it occurs to you how fucking insane you are. Mingi and Yunho at the same time? It’s not only the thickness, it’s the length. You wonder if you have a death wish. Mingi guides himself into you, only the first inch, sending shockwaves through your system. If this is how you die, you figure, at least you’ll die happy. Yunho spits into his palm, moistening his length before he brings it to meet your already occupied slit. Mingi slides in another inch or two, keeping his cock flush against the roof of your walls. Yunho raises himself into you, taking his time to watch for any signs that you’re uncomfortable, “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” You make a little squeak to acknowledge how nice it feels to be protected, even when he’s in the process of tearing you in half.

He begins to slide up into you, pausing to let Mingi push in a little more, then taking his turn again. It’s a toe-curling, lip-biting back and forth to get them both inside of you. Once they are, you're falling apart, screaming, digging your nails into Mingi’s arm. Pulling his shirt up over his head, he gathers the material and shoves it in your mouth. “We don’t want them to think we’re killing you.” You’re so full, stretched beyond your limit, that only one of them can fuck into you at once. There’s no room for anything---or anyone---else. You belong to them. “You’re always worth waiting for but shit” Mingi grunts, his length throbbing, as much as it can given the space.

There’s moisture on your cheeks. You’re crying. Not from pain. No. That initial sting gave way to pleasure once they were both finally inside of you. You’re crying, drenched in your own tears, because parts of you are shifting that you didn’t even know could. Every stroke has your ears ringing, your heart in your stomach. You feel heavy and weightless all at once. The darkness of the room swallows you while somehow managing to be blindingly bright. There’s an explosion somewhere inside, releasing the building pressure. You’re at your peak again, legs kicking like you’re dangling high up. It hits you hard. So hard that you’re not breathing. Breathe, girl, breathe!

Just as you catch your breath and think that you’re maybe---maybe---coming down, Yunho's filling you up like a donut. Mingi pulls out, tapping his head against your clit as warm cum sprays against you. Correction: Filling you up like a glazed donut. The three of you collapse, unable to do much else besides make a series of broken noises. “Hmph mmm mm hmph,” you say? Scream? Mumble? Mingi throws his arm across his chest, understanding your incoherent huffs, and takes the shirt out of your mouth. You pat him lovingly on the head, “Thanks.”

Readjusting yourself on the toilet, you rub the partially melted popsicle between your legs. This is nowhere near sexual in nature. You’re just in desperate need of relief from how sore you are after the day’s events. “Aah, yup, that’s the spot” you sigh, “Seonghwa really was onto something.” “Was I?” Seonghwa asks, rubbing his eyes. You jump a bit, startled by his sudden appearance in the doorway. Seonghwa stretches, dragging his feet into the bathroom.

As adorable as he is in his pajamas, his hair a complete mess, seeing him right now isn’t ideal. He shakes off the sleep, taking his time to process what’s going on. “Is that a---” “Ssh, if you tell anyone---” Seonghwa’s cheeks turn rosy, a smile spreading across his face. He takes you by the hand, bringing you to your feet, “Come on.” “Hwa, hold on, do you think? I wasn’t--no. No!” You reach back to drop the popsicle in the sink but Hwa pulls you along. “Hold onto that.”

#ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez oneshot #hongjoong x y/n #mingi x y/n #jongho x y/n #yeosang x y/n #yunho x y/n #seonghwa x y/n #san x y/n #wooyoung x y/n #chubby reader

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