#then you can understand someone making something fucked up because they think it's fun to imagine it *in a safe context*
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Helluva Boss and its consistent dedication to portraying those who are financially disadvantaged or female as one dimensional bad guys
There is something so genuinely insidious to me in how HB treats financially or otherwise socially disadvantaged characters and makes them the bigots and villains of the show.
Striker is "just a bigot". The one who consistently recognizes and verbally calls out the sham that is the classism of their society, hes selected to be the bigoted character. The one who recognizes that imps are at the bottom despite farming everybody's food and who recognizes the higher classes fetishize them like toys, he's the problem. He's the villain that needs to be defeated.
Striker DOES exert toxic masculinity, no doubt. But toxic masculinity can often be the result of poverty. In my eyes, while they're not excused, it is easier to understand why working class men would believe in toxic masculinity (I say this as a feminist). Their living conditions mean either be masculine or you can't provide and you let down others relying on you. You don't survive, while the most masculine survive the best. Striker has likely learned that being better off relies on frequently exerting toxic masculinity and violence. Does the show humanize him and show this? No, it does not. Instead he is reduced to being a bigot that gets tormented with sex jokes against his will, "like he deserves".
You know maybe there could have even been a plot or something in which he gets hurt and needs to be cared for and he's treated kindly and that makes him realize the value of not always being hyper masculine. Or maybe we could even get to see how him being softer lead to someone he used to care about dying GASP. Oh wait, but they would never extend that kind of humanity or development towards him. Why? Because he antagonized Stolitz, he pointed out the fucked up things about it - an unforgivable crime. Send in the hounds sex jokes.
Striker being treated as just a joke ultimately weakens the writing as it would have been far more satisfying for him to be an antagonist with a point, that really challenges our leads and makes them think. But to do that he would have had to be taken seriously, and there's no way someone in the way of an mlm ship can be taken seriously in this show.
The only way a character can get away with antagonizing Stolitz without becoming one dimensional plot fodder with no humanization is if they're something like Fizz and Ozzie - aka a gay pairing in their own right (that also later make up with Stolitz anyway). It is so telling that out of all the antagonists we've had, Fizz and Ozzie were the first to be redeemed.
Now lets talk about Ozzie. Ozzie, who is a lord with boatloads of money and a sex toy production and club empire, is humanized and seen as a good guy. He is even contrasted by Mammon as "one of the good ones". I will admit I love Ozzie, he is fun. The show at least doesn't guilt you into seeing him as a poor victim like it does with Stolas. But what is it with HB consistently presenting wealthy rich men like they're not part of a larger system of oppression? Why does the show twist itself into knots to ignore their contributions to classism and the harm they do? Ozzie can threaten his worker imps and that's fine/understandable. Meanwhile the only way imps are worth having their own lives and stories explored seems to be if they're paired with one of these rich ruling class "good ones" men.
And aren't they cute, these imps and their ruling class lovers? Just don't think too hard about how, while Ozzie's love may be able to lift Fizz, one single imp, out of being lower class, the system as a whole is designed to keep imps down. If Fizz didn't have Ozzie then he'd still be exploited for profit by another member of the ruling class, he had to rely on a member of the oppressive class falling in love with him to save him - no no, don't think about that, focus on the cute gay!
Verosika is another notable example though I will only talk about her briefly as we don't know too much about her yet and she doesn't tie into the shows thing with those who are financially disadvantaged like Striker (and someone else I'm going to talk about after Verosika). Though Verosika hasn't been totally made into a one dimensional villain with the Ozzie's episode showing her sympathetically (for which I am very thankful), she also has barely been explored. Fizz has had so much time dedicated to showing us his own life. Practically more than Millie has gotten. I do understand he had a huge impact on Blitz's entire life and Blitz is the main character. However, Verosika is still a big chapter, and was wronged by Blitz due to his issues. She was hurt by that, which haunts him. And then she got screwed over again by him in Spring Broken with the bet. So now where is she? Why does Fizz get all extra stuff about the life hes now built for himself while Verosika only exists to be drama in Blitz's past? Oh, right. Verosika's a woman, not a man with a sexy bf. So while she can show up, shes never going to be explored outside of Blitz.
A lot of this strange standard of one dimensionalism being applied to characters depending on whether they either appeal to the shows weird mlm fetishization or gets in the way of it can also be seen with Stella. Stella's treatment is honestly appalling to me.
Just like Stolas, she was also trapped in an arranged marriage from childhood. She had to have sex she didn't want and had to get pregnant and produce a child with a man she didn't love. Except, its not just that. Everything that could be said about Stolas applies to her, and on top of that EVEN MORE does - due to her financial status.
Andrealphus states that now shes produced an heir, she "would get nothing" if Stolas died. So this basically confirms Stella has no real assets. Despite them both being forced into the arranged marriage, its Stolas that owns everything. Her home is Stolas', and without the marriage, she has no home. Now I'm sure there's a good chance she could go and live with Andrealphus or some other relative and would be allowed to do so. But is it really so crazy to still see that her situation is demeaning and awful? From what we can see in the show, the way the Goetia seem to operate is like how it used to be in olden times for women - men own everything. If you don't have a husband who gives to you, then you own nothing. So Stella is even more disadvantaged by the arranged marriage than Stolas is. The only reason she has her wealth and privilege is because she was married off to him and used as a tool. All of her assets belong to the men in her life and she never had any choice in it being that way because she was set up to be put in an arranged marriage with a man that would own everything from childhood.
And yet the show thinks instead of exploring how Stella feels about all that, given the very real world parallels to what women throughout history have faced, apparently it was more appropriate to make her one dimensional so that she could exist for the male characters. She sticks around to torture Stolas with no motivation beyond being hateful for seemingly no reason - because that's all her character got to be. Something for the show's obsession with Stolas torture porn, something to make us feel bad for him, so that Stolitz looks better. If she's a one dimensional abuser then that means we don't have to think about her lack of property ownership and how she was a victim of the arranged marriage even more so than Stolas was. Now we don't have to feel guilty when Stella is left with nothing to her name in the divorce, and she deserves being cheated on too! Yay! Phew! That saved us from thinking about a female character for more than five seconds and from being critical of our rich male fave, thank God!
This show refuses to humanize any characters that oppose Stolitz in any way, especially not if they're female. And its noticeable and obnoxious. The consistent way in which it makes its one dimensional bad guys impoverished or women while also churning out "one of the good ones" woobified rich men that benefit from hell's class system is. Well, its really fucking annoying and skeevy, in my eyes. It reveals that this show at its core is about its mlm pairings and nothing else - the class struggle stuff is there just to add flavour and drama to the mlm pairings. Women are powerful and accomplished but only so they can build and be used for the male characters stories. If you have all this time and all these resources to over and over again show another side to the guy who lauded Blitz's business over his head and said "Continually have fuck sessions with me or I'll end your business" then you can also bother to humanize impoverished imps fed up with the class system and women with no property rights trapped in arranged marriages.
#hb critical#helluva boss critical#vivziepop critical#anti stolas#anti stolitz#stolas critical#hhhb critical#hbhh critical#dayum this is a big post. But I really needed to shit out these points Ive been thinking about#my little minature tumblr magnum opus of rage or whatever#i just do not understand str*ker and stella being treated the same as like. hh's valent*no#str*ker kills ppl just like our main cast and stellas also an arranged marriage victim#why did you write them like that HB staff. Why. What warranted a Valent*no tier portrayal of one dimensionalness#Oh right. God forbid. They challenged St*litz.#Its just fucking ridiculous ITS POOR WRITING!#critical stuff
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Someone was talking shit bout Katara again and I'm about to kill people
Warning LONG post sorry
EVERYONE always brings up the "then you didn't love her like I did" scene and you know what in Kataras angry vindicated righteous fury addled mind, that's how she feels
She heard Sokka say he can't remember their mom, that he can only see his YOUNGER sister when he tries to picture her
Katara is fucking fuming because she finally has a chance to hunt down the man that killed their mom and Sokka is trying to stop her and I'm sorry but Sokka CANT understand Kataras pain
While not outright stated, we know Katara knows why her mom died, she's known the whole time.
Her mom died in her place, that is something Sokka will never have to live with
Losing his mother obviously hurt him, duh I'm not going to devalue his trauma, but Sokkas trauma that gets explored in the show is not losing his mom, but his dad.
Another thing I hate is when people say, well Sokkas older so he spent more time with their mom, like way to fuck up your argument because you are saying their love of their mother can be objectively measured.
Also you're trying to tell me in a society dependent on gender roles Katara wasn't spending more time with their mother than Sokka yeah right.
Yall say she needed to apologize (which I completely agree with because at the end of the day it is an awful thing to say to your brother who while not impacted the same way was just as affected as you) but no one is saying Sokka needs apologize for making fun of Kataras waterbending (do yall not understand why she's so passionate about bending her mom DIED because Katara was a bender, Katara thinks she needs to prove that her mother's death wasn't in vain HER AND SOKKA ARE PARALLES Kataras trying to prove herself to their mom and Sokka their dad)
They are CHILDREN they deserve to talk about what they loved doing with their mom and how losing her hurt them differently.
Because they're kids, they can't grasp that grief is different for everyone. They were both so fucked up by her death but in almost opposite ways. Sokka represed that shit so hard it's insane please baby get therapy and Katara lives her life trying to ensure NO ONE forgets their mother's sacrifice.
Sokka forces himself to forget
Katara forces herself to remember
I wish Katara apologized because she was objectively wrong, Sokka did love their mom but he grieves differently. And once Katara returns she understands where Sokkas coming from. She was just angry he wasn't angry because she's a child and wanted to know her emotions and anger were valid but instead felt vilified by the person who was meant to understand.
I wanted to see Katara apologize to, because her and Sokka deserve to hug and cry and scream about how unfair the world is, they deserve to have a mother figure in each other (which they do, they basically raised each other) but I hate how yall say she's unforgivable for this.
Unforgivable really? Yall are too harsh on Katara, it was fucked up, like insanely fucked up but unforgivable?
I guess the point of this post was me asking yall to give Katara some slack especially yall Sokka stans cuz if you hate Katara for this I feel like you don't really get Sokka either.
Obviously they love each other and they love their mom they just have never had the incredibly difficult conversation about how her death still affects them.
Their relationship is everything to me, I just want Sokka and Katara to be happy 😭
#katara defense squad#katara#atla#katara of the southern water tribe#avatar the last airbender#pro katara#sokka and katara#kya of the southern water tribe#sokka of the southern water tribe#grief#siblings#sokka
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I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.
• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????
• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????
• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???
• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.
• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)
• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)
• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.
There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.
Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂
#sherlock#bbc sherlock#sherlock holmes#john watson#johnlock#season 4#s4#steven moffat#mark gatiss#yo wtf#rambling thoughts#ranting#rip me
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alright i gotta ask, and of course youre free to not answer (of COURSE) but what led to all the reblogs regarding shipping? did something happen, are you okay?
I've had to unfollow someone whose art I liked because of them spouting "anti" rhetoric and making a low-key callout post for someone who isn't even on tumblr and now I'm doing my part in counterbalancing any potential damage
#policing art for moral purity makes me livid#is there a real person non-consensually involved? is a real-life person who can't consent involved? no? then sit down and mind your busines#you can make the difference between fictional murder and real life? about coffee shop romances and workplace harassment?#then you can understand someone making something fucked up because they think it's fun to imagine it *in a safe context*#*where no real person is harmed*#you don't have to like some or any of it (even if you probably do like at least some and you think is 'fine' or 'normal' to do so)#are you gonna arrest people who write from a serial murderers' point of view??#and if it triggers you because of personal experience: take care of yourself!!! and look away!!!!!! it's gonna be ok i love you!!!#ask answered
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yeah so i dont get the "wasn't that some fucked up shit? anyway i'm Rod Sterling" mentality some people have towards different narrative reads. It's all sweet and cool to want to explore all the different variations of a fucked up scenario, but i'm gonna need the reasons for it. I need the "why"; why are we exploring this thing? Why is it important to explore this story? what am i getting out of it? and no it's not about morality.
I dont need a story to teach me "good" life lessons, though that'd be lovely. I dont need it to be an exceptional and exemplary narrative even, but i need my discoveries to be purposeful and meaningful. Sometimes the aim for an exploration of say, a very tragic story, is to simply experiences the different flavours and nuances and complexities of a deeply held personal emotion; sometimes it helps us find the mirroring and connection and relatedness that we need to feel seen and heard and understood. Sometimes it helps you parse out your own bullshit by taking it out of your head and putting it in front of you– i dont care what the reason is, but there's a reason. There's a purpose for every single endeavour you take on, even if you haven't discovered the reason yet. "i just want to experience a fucked up shit" lazy superficial thinking, dig deeper. I hate superficial and purposeless shit; and no i'm not gonna explore the 863796373th trending trauma porn piece of the day because "wouldn't that be fucked up?" nah. I dont care, it's got no use to me. I will absolutely respect the endeavour and make space for it if someone tells me something as simple as "it is relevant to me and my interests and experiences and my mental preoccupations, and helps me refine my humanity and my understanding of humanity in general", that is a lovely and true statement. But if someone keeps churning out worst possible fucked up sad scenarios one after another under the "wouldn't that be fucked up?" flag, i'm out, i dont give a fuck. take your sad shit somewhere else, i have absolutely zero space for purposeless horrible narratives that positively add nothing to my life and dont help me navigate it in any meaningful way.
#and no we dont say the same thing about happy stories because happy stories feel good. that can be a purpose in and of itself#if someone tells me that tragic stories make them feel good i can still make space for it; it's not as sturdy a means but it'll do just fin#i literally dont get the '' fucked up story for the sake of fucked up story'' crowd like ???????#you guys do understand that we live by the narratives we immerse ourselves into right?? you know that our worldviews and beliefs#and conscious/subconscious frameworks are all stories we tell ourselves right?? right?????#This rant delivered to you by me seeing that tumblr famous Tamsyn Muir quote 3 in the morning and like#lmaoooo no.#millenials leak their incessant nihilism into every fucking crevice of the arts and it's so tiring to watch.#no your constant deconstruction of meaning and purpose and value is not cute#no you're not subversive and revolutionary for creating the 85379637th Sad Shit Of The Day— you're literally protocol behavior#and you couldn't be more in alignment with the moral status quo of our time.#no aimless and listless shock value traumatic stories are not fun and 'adventurous';#they just speak to you circling right back into the comfortable confinements of your socially acceptable superficiality#and vapid consumerism.#goddd i'm tired. lack of purpose frees these fuckers from ever having to align with any substantial endeavour in their goddamn lives#and they think it's so funny; it's not.#I expect something out of the stories i explore. ''tragedy for the sake of tragedy'' is the laziest thing i have ever heard.#humans are designed to be happy; they're also designed to engage in meaningful and intentional growth.#own up to anything to gives you a chance to grow and expand and change or get the fuck out of my face#this blog is an absolutely unsafe space for socially sanctioned neutered nihilism#i will hunt you for sport; it doesn't matter anyway right??
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well that poll game made me think about the biggest fish for the first time in a while
#keeping the rest in the tags because i don't yet feel overly confident abt it#i think eönwë/eärwen dynamic is very fun to consider esp in context of eönwë/eärwen/finarfin#they both respect each other and appreciate the impact the other had on finarfin's life. however they also think the other sucks#and that they're a better partner than the other#from eärwen's pov it's “i'm literally his wife you don't get further than that. sorry”#somewhat caused by the insecurity abt their only recently back to normal relationship#for eönwë it's “yeah sorry i don't think going no contact for a few centuries and leaving him completely alone is something i'd do. sad!”#eönwë CAN understand her on the logical level but also deep down he thinks that abandoning finarfin (or like anyone you love) is the worst#thing someone can do. sorry#(yes finarfin abandoned her first. he felt very bad about it later ok. also he came back so doesn't really count.)#and they CAN tolerate each other and even convince themselves they don't mind each other at all except they Do#it's not “i hate you and think you should disappear” issue. it's “i'm frustrated with you for reasons i can't articulate”#“and also for making me laugh occasionally and for being so fucking smart and lowkey hot. pretend i didn't say the last sentence”#so they end up being snipy at each other and somewhat passive-agressive and also I Love Finarfin Better Than You Sorry. Now Move#and meanwhile finarfin is like hey can you move a bit. yeah your psychosexual staredown with my wife blocks drawer acces. yes thank you#the biggest fish#<- i'll NEED to come up with a better title#feel free to ask me abt this if you want! or dm if you're a mutual
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three is not a crowd
OR
5 times Chris walks in on you and Matt fucking + 1 time he gets to join in on the fun
pairing: established!matt x reader, chris x reader, matt x reader x chris
summary: what it says on the tin basically
warnings: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, dick riding, oral (female & male receiving), teasing, edging, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, p in v, slight degradation/praising, slight angst, happy ending yay
word count: 6.9K
author’s note: im a whore for both of them. that is all. (also this has plot, and is mostly beta read but i havent slept in hrs so if some mistakes did slip thru my bad
1
“Hey Matt, have you seen my-” Chris begins to ask as he pushes Matt’s bedroom door open, expecting his brother to either be lazing around in bed or be at his desk, gaming.
What he doesn't expect is the sight he is instead greeted by, of you, Matt’s girlfriend of the last year and a half, astride Matt’s lap, riding his dick while he leans against his headboard, head thrown back and hands grabbing your hips, guiding you, slowly.
Chris is shocked, understandably, and he should just turn around and book it. Instead, he stands frozen, watching the way your head is nestled into the crook of Matt’s neck, your shoulders shaking. If Chris ignores the sound of his own pounding heart, he can almost hear the soft whimpers you’re letting out at each downward thrust of your hips.
At the sound of a soft, deep groan, Chris’ attention shifts to Matt, who has his eyes shut, and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. There’s something surreal about this scene, seeing Matt, who looks nothing like Chris, but also looks the most like him, fucking this beautiful girl who’s been on his mind for months now.
“Matt…,” he hears you whine loudly against his brother’s neck, and Chris has to grit his teeth, fight against the urge to shove his hands into his pants and fist his growing erection. This shouldn't turn him on so much, hell, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he realized what he’d walked in on, but he’s mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching as your hips move back and forth. The slow, sensual, almost hypnotic, movements of your body as you ride Matt’s dick has him clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms and it’s easy to imagine him in Matt’s place as he gets this view of what it might look like to fuck you. Your moans grow louder, and Chris thinks it might be because you’re getting close, and god, he feels so hot underneath his skin.
“Shh baby, didn't you say we needed to be quiet?” Matt whispers against the side of your head. “Can’t have Chris hearing us, can we?”
At the sound of his name, Chris’ heart hammers faster, and he looks up at Matt’s face, only to see that his brother’s gaze was already on him, watching him with a slight smirk before thrusting his hips up, presumably driving his cock deeper into you, making you moan even louder than you already were.
Breaking out of his stupor, Chris stumbles backwards before hightailing it to his room, slamming the door behind him. It takes all of five seconds for him to get his cock out of his sweatpants, furiously jerking off as he leans against his door, biting into the hem of his t-shirt that he’d pulled up over his chest, and only another five seconds before he shoots his cum all over himself.
2
Chris knows its wrong, wanting his brother's girl. This was never a problem before, because any time he found out Matt liked someone, Chris immediately lost interest. It was the brothers’ code; they never fought over girls, and besides, they always just liked different ones.
You, though…it was hard not to like you, even after he found out Matt had his eyes on you.
Chris remembers the first time he met you, how nice you’d been to him and his brothers, how easily you’d fit into their lives. He’s not going to lie and say he’d wanted you right from the start. It was a gradual thing, slowly creeping up on him before he realized what had gotten him.
You just made him feel so comfortable, and surprisingly, the two of you had a lot in common. But then again, you had a lot in common with Matt, and Nick. And yet, you were so different. You were smart, playful, and so, so kind. You were just the right amount of goofy and serious, and you just, fit well into the dynamic Chris and his brothers shared.
It shouldn't have surprised him when Matt eventually told him and Nick that he was into you and planned to ask you out. It all happened so quickly after that. You and Matt had gotten together and, now you weren't just the new friend that Chris and his brothers were always hanging out with, but his brother's (his brother who was also his best friend, really) girlfriend.
Which is why Chris knows it’s fucked up. Wanting you. And he knows it’s even more fucked up that he wishes he could have a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago when he accidentally walked in on you and Matt. The amount of times he’s jacked off to that memory alone the past few nights is insane, his mind supplying images to create his own version of events where he doesn't run away.
Especially fucked up is the fact that Matt had seen him, had looked cocky that he’d caught Chris watching them, and even that fact hadn’t deterred Chris from chasing orgasm after orgasm to the thought of fucking you, imagining how tight and wet your pussy might be, what it might taste like.
Speaking of the fucker who seemed totally unfazed by recent events, Matt sat across Chris, scrolling through his phone, while Nick sat beside him, editing their latest video. Chris was trying his hardest not to flip the fuck out, but his whole nervous system seemed like it was fried. Nick had already yelled at him twice to stop moving so much because he was apparently jostling the table too much, and Matt had just let out a bemused chuckle without lifting his eyes from his phone the entire time.
Just as Chris was about to get up and retreat to him room, the doorbell rings, before Matt gets a series of texts.
“Oh, she’s here-” Matt says, before shooting out of his chair and rushing to great you at the front door.
“Hey, hey, hey!” your cheery voice rings through the hallway, as you and Matt make your way into the kitchen, and Chris almost chokes on the sip of Pepsi he’d just taken because holy fuck-
You were wearing a short, tight black dress that hugged the lines and curves of your body just right, the square neckline barely covering your chest. His eyes slipped further down to the way the fabric of the dress cinched at your waist, and to the slit at the side of the dress that came up to mid-thigh. That and the combination of tall strappy heels you had on made your legs look…really good. So good that Chris wishes he was between those legs, licking a path up your calf to your inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses to mar the smooth, unblemished skin of your legs, before finally, finally-
Nick hoots just then, exclaiming about how hot your fit looks, pulling Chris out of his daze. He watches as you bask in the compliments being showered onto you by both Nick and Matt now, and can't help but smile at the way you try to hide your blushing face.
So, it’s completely out of left field when he sees you again later that night, sitting on the couch with your hands covering your face but this time it’s to hide the loud moans that threaten to slip from your mouth as you watch Matt kneel in front of you, his mouth pressing kisses into your inner thighs…just like Chris had imagined doing earlier.
It’s ridiculous really, how Chris had been feeling slightly normal after dinner with you and his brothers, because as awkward as he may have been feeling about you and Matt, being around you and his brothers, having good food and just laughing about random shit made him feel really fucking good. Like everything was normal and he wasn't fantasizing about fucking his brother’s girlfriend. Like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them fucking.
Of course it’s just his fucking luck that as soon he’s feeling just that slightest bit of normalcy, he’d decided to go to the kitchen and grab a Pepsi from the fridge at 3 AM, only to find his brother about to eat you out on the couch.
“Matt-” you whine, as your back arches off the couch, one of your hands moving to grab Matt’s hair, the other trying and failing to hold back your moans. “Matt, please- nnggh- stop teasing.”
Chris feels all his blood rush down south and it leaves him lightheaded. The low lighting in the room accentuates the shadows of your body and he can see the muscles in your legs flex as your thighs clench around Matt’s head, trying to get him to move his mouth closer to where you want him. You’re not in the tight black dress he’d seen you in earlier, but in a blue baby tee and black lace-trimmed hipster briefs. There’s an almost imperceptible quiver that wracks through your entire body in anticipation for what’s to come.
Matt doesn't keep you waiting for long. Chris' breathing grows even more jagged as he watches Matt’s fingers push your panties to the side before he runs his tongue flat up your pussy. Chris can't see as much as he’d like to, but his overactive imagination does the job for him, imagining how wet you must be.
Chris feels like such a sick perv for still standing there, watching with wide eyes as Matt (his literal brother) enthusiastically licks and kisses your pussy, and he almost wonders how neither of you haven't noticed him yet. Then again, you and Matt seem so lost in each other, and now there’s another ugly thought circling Chris’ brain, one that makes his chest hurt a little.
He forgoes his Pepsi for the night and quietly returns back to his room, cock half-hard, and his heart just the slightest bit heavy.
3
“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Nick asks him, while his eyes are still fixed on his phone.
He and Chris were sitting on the couch (Chris had been avoiding the section that you and Matt had used during your late night rendezvous), and Chris was idly flipping through his Netflix watch list.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Chris says with a heavy sigh, slumping further into the couch.
It’s quiet, and the silence makes Chris look up at Nick, who was already looking at him with a curious frown.
“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you?” Nick asks, and he actually looks concerned, which throws Chris off a bit. “You’re usually bouncing off the walls and annoying the shit out of everyone in your nearest vicinity, but lately you've just been, I don't know- I’m like actually worried, did something happen? Is everything okay?”
Chris swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and takes a minute. To do what, he doesn't know. It’s not like he’s going to prepare himself to tell Nick what he’d witnessed, twice, and how he was feeling about it. Really, how does one go about telling their triplet brother that they’d accidentally witnessed their other brother in an intimate situation with said brother’s partner, not once, but twice, and had enjoyed it, to the point of having nightly fantasies about it?
There were more complicated feelings lurking just under the surface, more than just Chris wanting to fuck you, but he did not have the mental bandwidth to unpack all that, so that was that. It’s not like he had honest to god feelings-
“See, at this point, you would’ve been yapping away-” Nick says, interrupting his train of thought, “-but instead, you’re just sitting there, looking all sad and miserable.”
“Okay, I don't look sad and miserable,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes. At least, he hopes he doesn't. “I’m just tired dude. Haven't been sleeping well lately.”
“Right.”
“What? It’s the truth.”
“Didn't say you were lying,” Nick says, matter-of-factually, in that signature Nick tone that lets everyone know when he isn't buying their bullshit.
“I’m fine,” Chris says slowly, waiting for Nick to stop looking at him so intensely.
“Sure,” Nick drawls out. “You’re also a shitty liar.”
“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles, chucking the TV remote at Nick, who flails to try and dodge it, letting out an indignant squawk when it bounces off his shoulder and falls to the ground.
This, of course, results in Nick throwing whatever was closest to him at Chris, which happens to be an empty water bottle, and eventually they're just chucking it back and forth, cursing at each other in between laughter.
It’s the most relaxed Chris has felt in weeks.
Too bad you had to walk in at that exact moment.
“Hey guys!” you say cheerily, plopping down on the couch, next to Chris. You’d stayed over for a couple of nights now, as you usually do, and Chris should be extremely used to your presence, except he feels his skin prickle as soon as your close to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin.
“God, how are you so chipper every morning?” Nick asks, shaking his head with a poorly hidden smile.
You twirl a strand of your hair around your finger, and bit the corner of your bottom lip. “It helps that I wake up to one of the hottest guys ever, and then get to hang out with his hot as fuck brothers,” you say with a smirk, waggling your eyebrows at Nick.
Chris wishes you hadn't just said that because now his mind wanders (more like sprints) to the memory of this morning, when he’d walked past Matt’s open bedroom. He’d heard the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your voice, whining Matt’s name over and over, which had him stopping right before Matt’s door, eyes wide, mouth agape. This couldn't be happening right? There was no way he’d walked into this situation for a third time.
Chris debates on whether he should just turn back around, go downstairs, out the front door, and bash his head against a tree, or if he should soldier on and just walk past to get to his room.
The sounds were getting to him. His cock strained against his grey sweatpants, creating a very obvious tent. His clothes suddenly felt a size too small, the air around him too thick, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He should leave, run far, far away from his house probably, but a sick part of him wants more than anything to see what’s got you moaning this time.
He rounds the corner and is met with a sight that almost has him falling to his knees.
It’s unfair, how incredibly gorgeous you look straddling Matt’s thighs, bouncing on his dick rhythmically, your head thrown back. You’re leaning back on your hands, supported on Matt’s knees, and Chris watches the way your body undulates as you swivel your hips, ribs flaring as your chest heaves. Every gasp you let out is a punch to Chris’ gut, leaving him feeling winded.
You’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don't hear when Chris groans out loud, but he knows exactly when Matt hears him, because his head rolls lazily towards him, his hands that had been grabbing your hips tightening, and there’s little to no warning before Matt’s flipping you over and thrusting into you with vigor.
“Does that feel good baby?” Chris hears Matt ask, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”
“Fuck, so good, Matt- please, please, please-” your moans turning into whimpers as Matt’s thrust pick up in pace. Chris can tell exactly when Matt hits the bundle of nerves inside you that has you seeing stars because your back arches off his bed, hands scrambling to find purchase. Your fingers clench into the pillow above your head, as you beg Matt to go harder, faster.
Chris’ eyes bounce back to Matt, who’s watching you in awe, and he’s seen that look on his face numerous times before, like Matt can't get enough of you. Chris’ breath hitches, because he wishes it was him, in Matt’s place. Him, worshiping you, making you feel good. He wishes he was the one that was ripping those sounds out of you.
He catches Matt’s eyes just then, and Chris has never wanted to punch him in the face more than he does in that moment, because it almost feels like he’s mocking Chris.
See what I have, what you so desperately want…
Chris holds up a middle finger, directed at Matt and whatever god was up there who’d clearly forsaken him. He had half the mind to just yell but the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. So with a scathing look at Matt, and a mouthed fuck you, he walks to his room, the sound of Matt’s laughter the last thing he hears before Chris angrily slams the door and sheds his clothes, pumping his cock to the memory of your voice.
It’s the hardest he’s cum all week.
4
Chris walks in on Matt pounding you against the wall leading to the garage. At this point, it had to be on purpose. The two of you had to be planning this, because how was it always Chris that ended up walking in on them, and not Nick? Knowing his brother, Nick would’ve gone around voicing his disgust at having caught you and Matt fucking, any chance he got.
So, it had to be on purpose.
Matt’s whispering dirty things in your ear, loud enough for Chris to hear every word.
“You’re so fucking pretty baby-”
“I want to ruin you, want you to feel me for days-”
“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” and that has you letting out a particularly loud whine. The next bit Matt whispers into your ear is too inaudible for Chris to comprehend but he can tell how much it affects you, because you absolutely lose it just then.
Fuck this. Fuck all of this.
“Can y’all stick to fucking in Matt’s bed?”
At the sound of Chris’ voice, you look up at him, startled, and it’s electrifying, your stare. Chris sees your eyebrows furrow, your lips, plump from being bitten (by yourself, or Matt, who cares at this point), fall open. Matt’s shoulders stiffen for a second, so Chris knows he’s aware that Chris is right behind them, but the asshole just keeps fucking going. And you, you’re still staring.
“Chris-” you gasp, your nails digging into Matt’s shoulder. Chris thinks you’re going to push him away, scramble to pull yourself together.
You surprise him by pushing back down onto Matt’s cock with even more fervor, your hands moving up Matt’s neck to grab onto his hair, pulling hard.
Chris watches you cum on Matt’s cock for the first time that night, all while your eyes were locked on his.
5
Chris doesn't like being angry. He very rarely is. And usually, he gets over it really quick.
Which is why it’s shocking to everyone when he gets cold and hostile towards Matt seemingly out of nowhere, and the anger doesn't subside.
It gets in the way of their work. Filming becomes exhausting, and it leaves all three brothers feeling frustrated and annoyed at each other.
It’s in the middle of filming a new car video when it all goes to head. Nick and Matt had attempted to film a video, but Chris couldn’t hold back the jabs at Matt, interrupting him every time he spoke, insulting him for no reason whatsoever, which only made Matt retaliate just as hard.
“That’s it-” Nick yells, his hands pushing his hair out of his face in frustration. “I’ve fucking had it with you two. I’m getting the fuck out of this car and the two of you are going to stay in here and talk. Don’t even bother coming back in until you sort out whatever-” he gestures wildly between Matt and Chris, “-is going on with you two!”
And with that, Nick storms back into their house.
Chris stares out of the window with his arms crossed, seething. He can tell Matt is looking at him, can see part of his reflection on the window, but Chris isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.
Matt, much to Chris’ annoyance, was completely calm and collected.
“Chris-” Matt begins to say, but Chris just chucks his empty Pepsi can at him without looking. He hears it clatter against something (the steering wheel, he thinks), before dropping down onto the car floor with a dull thud.
Matt sighs, and Chris wants to yell, because Chris is the one that should be huffing and sighing, he’s the one that’s tired of all this bullshit.
“Are you trying to prove something?” Chris asks, because he never could stay quiet for too long. “Is that it? What the actual fuck Matt?”
Chris had fully turned to face Matt, who at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed now. His face was tinged pinked, and he was fiddling with his rings.
Chris continues. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you’re just trying to get me to see she’s your girl, I fucking get it, okay? You’ve made that really fucking clear. Did I say or do something to warrant this shit, because if you think I’m out to get her, I’m not, okay? Jesus- do you know how fucking insane-”
“She wants you bro.”
Chris blinks. He opens his mouth, and then shuts it.
“I used to catch her staring at you sometimes, and there were times she’d just keep scrolling through pictures of the two of us together- you and me, I mean- and…I don’t know, she’d have this look on her face.” Matt trails off. He looks at Chris, trying to gauge his reaction so far, but truth be told, Chris was still trying to process what Matt had initially said.
“What…?”
“Look, the two of us are happy together. I love her, she loves me, but I think she…” Matt coughs out, and it’s the first time since this whole thing has started that Chris has seen Matt this awkward. “She’s into you too. She never really told me, but it got pretty obvious after a while. And eventually, I- I started bringing you up, when we- um, yeah. She wants us both.”
Chris starts laughing. Because he doesn’t know what else to do.
“Alright, good prank dude- I’m still so fucking mad at you but-”
“I’m not kidding, Chris.”
Right. Because why would Matt joke about something like this?
“Um…”
“Yeah…”
And that’s how Chris finds himself back in Matt’s room. You and Matt were sitting on his bed, albeit a little far apart, meanwhile Chris had taken a seat in Matt’s gaming chair. Chris almost wants to call the two of you out on the pure torture you’d put him through the past few weeks, but one look at your face has him abandoning that train of thought.
You look so…remorseful. You’re slightly curled in on yourself, like you’re bracing for some sort of attack, and Chris’ heart melts. The last thing he wants is for you to feel upset, so he tries to lighten the mood.
“So, do you just wanna see which one of us has the better dick or-?”
He smiles as you sputter, eyes wide as you finally look up at him.
“There we go,” Chris whispers. “You’re finally looking at me.”
“Chris…I’m so sorry,” you whisper, lips trembling. “God, this is so stupid, why did we decide to tell him-”
“Hey, hey-” Chris chides. “I think I’ve been kept in the dark long enough, actually. I just wish y’all hadn’t used such a weird ass fucking way to tell me.”
“Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know you’d seen us that first couple of times,”
“Oh, god-”
“-And, we kinda assumed you’d take the fucking hint or something.”
“Yeah, I thought the hint was ‘I know you wanna fuck my girl, so I’m gonna make sure you catch us fucking every chance we get so you stay the fuck away’,” Chris says with a raised brow, staring deadpan at Matt.
“Wait, what-” you start, but you’re interrupted by Matt.
“Yeah, he’s wanted to fuck you for a while too.”
And that's how Chris finds himself with a front row view of Matt fucking you, up close and personal. Matt has you on all fours, facing Chris, while he pounds into you from behind, hard and deep. Each thrust punches a high-pitched moan out of you, and Chris watches, enraptured by the way you take it.
Chris watches to his heart's content that night, no longer worried about getting caught, no longer stressed about wanting to fuck you.
Chris watches you fall apart in Matt's hands over and over, and all he can think about is when he can finally have his turn.
+ 1
They’d had to wait for the perfect moment, a night they could be sure none of them would be interrupted.
They'd been planning for this night for a few days now, and it was finally here.
Chris and Matt stand side-by-side in front of Matt’s bed, arms crossed over their chest as they watch you squirm in his bed, their combined attention making you nervous. They’re both barely dressed, Chris in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, the front of which were already tented from his hard dick, while Matt was just in his black boxers. The low lighting of the room made Matt’s rings glisten as he rubbed at the stubble that he’d slowly allowed to grow on his face.
“How are we feeling, baby?” Matt asks you, smirking at the way you visibly gulp. “You ready for us?”
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at Chris through your lashes before nodding.
That’s all the cue he needs.
Chris stalks over to you, slowly, climbing over the bed and crawling over you, his hands landing on either side of your head as he holds himself above you. You lay back, your hair fanning around your head on the pillow, your eyes wide as you wait for Chris’ next move.
“Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, wetting his lips, and he doesn’t have to wait long for his answer. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling at the strands close to his nape, bringing his lips onto yours. The kiss is heady, a wild mess of tongue and teeth, because you’d both been waiting for this, dying for it, and here it was, finally happening.
“Chris-” you gasp, open mouth sliding over the hot skin of his cheek as he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, biting harsh kisses into the skin there, before tracing his tongue across your jaw.
“Fuck, fuck- you smell so good, I need you so bad ma-” Chris blabbers, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. He vaguely registers Matt settling onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Chris kisses a path down your body, laving every inch of skin he can access with nips and kisses. You arch your back as Chris circles one of your nipples with his tongue, sucking on it as he flicks the other. He alternates between kissing and nipping your nipples, all the while, you have an almost painful grip on his hair, pushing your chest harder into his face.
Matt watches your face intently, seeing the way your features scrunch up in pleasure, mouth wide open as you gasp and whine. There’s a small part of him that knows he shouldn’t be so okay with his own brother having his way with his girlfriend, but it’s almost like he gets a 4K view of what it might usually look like when Matt’s the one doing these things to you.
Chris continues his path downwards, fingers hooking into the sides of your panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling them off of you. Your legs instinctively squeeze shut when the cold air hits your wet core, but Chris’s hands gently pry them open, staring at you in wonder.
“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” Chris groans, before licking a stripe up the seam where your thigh meets your crotch, so close to where you actually want his tongue.
“Please, please-” you whimper, pushing your hips up closer to his lips, feeling his hot breath fan over you pussy. You hear both him and Matt chuckle, before Chris has his mouth on you, licking the wetness gathered in your folds. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the obscene sounds of Chris’s mouth as he eats you out like a man starving.
It’s almost too much, the way he’s sucking on your clit, before pushing his tongue into you, his face pushed deep, you’re sure he can’t breath. The pleasure builds, heat pooling low in your stomach. You feel Matt’s fingers brush against your forehead, pushing the hair that was starting to stick to it from all the sweat.
“You feel good baby?” Matt asks, tone soft, but his eyes glint dangerously. “One of us wasn’t enough for you, was it? You’re such a dirty girl, wanting me and my brother.”
You whine, head pushing against his thigh closest to your head. Chris laughs, pulling his head back to chime in.
“Greedy little slut, that’s what she is,” he says, cheeks rosy and face glistening from the nose down, his chin absolutely soaking wet. “You gonna cum soon ma?”
You don’t even know what you respond with, just that Chris goes back to eating you out, this time, bringing his fingers to your entrance, sliding one finger, then two, into your sopping wet cunt as he licks random paths across your folds, occasionally circling your clit and sucking on it harshly, all while thrusting his fingers in and out of you, causing you to buck your hips up wildly. Your orgasm, only the first one of the night, is fast approaching, and your thighs clench around Chris’ head. The only warning he gets is a sudden yell of his name before you gush all over his face.
“Did you just- did she just squirt?” Chris asks, eyes wide as he takes in the mess that you’d made. His face and neck were now fully wet, and there was a perfectly round wet spot right underneath you. His fingers flutter over your now slightly puffy pussy, watching your folds quiver.
“Fuck, it’s too much- Chris, wait,” you whine, hands moving to grab Chris’ wrist. He doesn’t stop with his ministrations though, fingers pumping in and out of you, prodding at the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out. It was fast, intense, and Chris manages to pull a second orgasm out of you before you’d even managed to catch your breath from the first one.
Chris sits up on his knees, reaching his arms behind him and pulling his tank top off, throwing it behind him. He hooks his arms around your thighs before pulling you down the bed, closer to him, allowing Matt to slot himself behind you.
“Can you turn over for me ma?” Chris asks with a gentle pat against your hip. It takes some effort, your limbs feel loose and languid, but you manage to flip onto your stomach. Hands grab your face, tipping your head up, and you see your boyfriend looking at you with a smirk, tongue peeking out to run across his teeth.
“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice like dripping honey with a hint of something razor-sharp. “This everything you imagined?”
“Yes- oh god, Matt- I need you, please-”
“You have me baby,” he coos. “You have me and Chris. That’s what you wanted, right? ‘Cause one dick was never enough to keep you satisfied.”
“Ngghh- please, please, I-” you whimper, mouthing at Matt’s dick through his boxers, startled when you feel a sudden smack against your ass, pain blossoming across your skin.
“If she’s already this cock dumb, I wonder how she’s gonna get when we actually get our dicks in her,” Chris wonders out loud with an amused huff, palming at your ass cheeks as he rubs his clothed dick against it.
You continue begging, your pussy soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come, hips arching off the bed while your back dips low, shoulders tucked between Matt’s spread thighs as you lick him through the only piece of fabric that is keeping you from tasting him, from having his cock fill your mouth.
Chris smooths his palm down your back, making you arch your back even further, before he spreads your cheeks, seeing the way you twitch at being put on display.
“I think she’s waited long enough, hasn’t she?” Matt asks Chris, nodding his head slightly as if to tell Chris to get on with it. Chris doesn’t waste any time pushing his sweats down his thighs, freeing his cock. You turn your head back to try and peek at it from over your shoulder, but Matt has a firm hand on your head pushing you towards his crotch while he pulls his dick out of his boxers. With one hand holding the back of your head, and the other around his dick, Matt slaps it against your cheek, amused at the way you so desperately try and get him to guide his cock into your mouth instead.
Simultaneously, Chris is behind you, rubbing the tip of his dick through your folds, gathering the wetness there. Above you, you feel Matt lean towards his dresser, before rifling through the top drawer and chucking something at Chris. There’s a sound of a bottle cap clicking open, and lube being squeezed out, before you hear the squelch of it as Chris spreads it over his dick.
Later, you’ll think they must have planned this head of time, but both Matt and Chris decide to push their dicks into you at the same time, Matt feeding you his cock, pushing past your lips, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head, while Chris spreads your folds apart and drives his dick into you, the tip catching inside you for a moment, before he thrusts his hips and pushes his dick deeper into you.
“Look at that,” Chris says, smacking the palms of both his hands onto your cheeks at the same time, before kneading at them. “She takes dick really fucking well.”
“It’s like she’s made for it, isn’t she?”
Chris fucks you like he has all the time in the world, savoring the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, fascinated by the sight of his dick disappearing in you at every thrust. You stretch around him so beautifully, and you’re so fucking tight, he wonders how he managed to fit it all in you in one go.
At the other end, Matt watches you with soft affection as you suck on his cock, tears streaming down your face from the exertion on your body and minimal air supply. At every thrust of Chris’ hips, you would get pushed closer to Matt, which would push his dick deeper into your mouth, making you almost gag on it.
You have no concept of time anymore, or where your body starts and Chris’ and Matt’s end. You feel like one big mess of limbs, moving fluidly, with the common purpose of chasing your orgasm. You hear Matt’s groans getting louder above you, and you know he’s getting close. You’re not far behind yourself, but Chris still seems like he’s nowhere close to being done.
Pulling your mouth off of Matt’s cock, you circle your hand around the base of it, before stroking your hand up and down, twisting it around the head. You swipe your thumb across the slit at the top while you tongue at the underside of the head, all while looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.
“Cum on my face, Matt, please-” you beg, mouth slightly open, a line of spit connecting your tongue to his dick. Chris' thrusts are picking up, but you keep your elbows planted firmly on the bed below to keep yourself steady for Matt. There’s a tingle building low in your spine, but you focus on Matt, the way he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hair is a mess, and his body is flushed. The hand he has on your head grips your hair tight, and the other joins your hand in pumping his dick. It only takes a few more seconds of that before Matt lets out a loud groan of your name, spurts of thick, hot cum landing across your face, and you close your eyes as it drips down your face, some of it landing on your tongue.
Matt leans back heavily against the headboard, and before you can register anything, you’re being flipped onto your back, face still covered in Matt’s cum. Your shoulders hit Matt’s chest as Chris crowds against you on the bed, his hands now on the back of your knees, pushing your legs back against your chest, before thrusting his dick back into you.
The sudden shift has you blinking back stars, and this new angle has Chris’ dick brushing against your sweet spot on every thrust, and all you can do is sob at the immense pleasure you feel. Matt circles his arms around you, one hand playing with one of your nipples, while the other moves down your stomach and edges closer to your clit. The tingling sensation grows, and grows, your hands scrambling to find purchase on Chris’ shoulders as he thrusts particularly deep into you before you finally snap, screaming as your third orgasm is ripped from you, the force of it pushing Chris’ cock out of you as you squirt all over him, yourself, and the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.
You’re fully gasping and sobbing now, the intensity of your orgasm wracking through your whole body. You watch through hooded, teary eyes, as Chris leans over you, furiously stroking his cock as he soaks in the view of you, hot and messy, ruined because of him, before he too eventually reaches his orgasm, cum pulsing out of him and landing high on your chest, across your nipples, one spurt even hitting your chin.
The three of you are a heaping mess of limbs after, all basking in the afterglow of a night well spent, tired, but satiated. Matt and Chris lay on either side of you, stroking whatever part of your skin they can reach, occasionally batting each other’s hands away and pulling you closer to either side, like you’re not all squished together already.
“We should do that again sometime,” you say after a long beat of silence. Matt snorts, eyes closed, but the corners of his lips are quirked up in a small smile.
“Y’all are crazy if you think I’m never fucking you again after I just got a taste,” Chris states. “Besides, I think there’s a lot of lost time I need to make up for, hm?”
After that night, Chris gets to have his turn with you, over and over. Sometimes, Matt is present, and the brothers somehow always turn things into a competition of who can make you cum the quickest, who can make you cum multiple times, who can make you absolutely incoherent by the end of the night.
Now Chris had his own reason for always being so chipper in the morning. It helps that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl he’s seen, who just happens to also be fucking his brother.
author’s note: i put too much fucking effort into an idea that essentially started as a joke, its gonna be so funny if this flops because i literally stayed up till 4 am twice in a row to write this lmao- anyways, let me know what you think! my inbox is open and waiting for your thoughts (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3
taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):
@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @kvtie444 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @55sturn @chrisopeningabag
#junovrs writes#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader
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baby can we smoke?
eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader
you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.
2.8k
cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.
Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think. (PART TWO IS HERE!)
enjoy xx
Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.
He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.
Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so… innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him.
“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”
You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”
Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.
It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.
“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.”
Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke.
And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.
“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.
“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”
You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers.
“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”
“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth.
“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—
Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore.
Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?”
Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”
You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.
“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.
“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”
“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell.
For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.
The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.
“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.
“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”
Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.
Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.
He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that.
The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs.
"Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.”
If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me."
You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."
“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief.
“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”
#blueywrites#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation.
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him.
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists.
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before.
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples.
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her.
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance.
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her.
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration.
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished.
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her.
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her.
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper.
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed.
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him.
“You’re important to me.”
She has no idea how much.
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive.
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted.
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care.
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long.
#spencer reid#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic
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warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol
"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"
You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.
"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.
You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.
Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.
You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.
Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.
"If not now, never, right?"
After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.
"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"
"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.
Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.
"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"
The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.
"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."
"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.
***
"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"
You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.
"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.
"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."
"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.
"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"
"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says:
"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."
"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.
You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.
The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.
12:00. Carpe diem.
"It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n."
***
"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"
"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client."
And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."
"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."
You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him.
"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.
"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.
"Angel's wings."
He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.
"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."
"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."
"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"
"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.
"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"
"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."
"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice.
"Thanks," you hang your head.
"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.
"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.
"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"
"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.
"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him.
"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.
You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.
The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.
***
You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.
He hums to himself. "Those are nice."
You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.
He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.
There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.
You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.
He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"
And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"
"A safeword. It's big."
W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.
"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"
#colby brock#colby brock fluff#colby brock smut#sam and colby#colby brock fanfic#hell week#sam golbach#sam and colby smut#sam golbach smut#sam golbach x reader#colby brock fanfiction#colby brock imagine#colby brock x y/n#colby brock x reader#xplr#colby brock x oc#colby brock x you#sam and colby x reader#sam and colby fanfiction#sam golbach x colby brock#sam golbach x you#colby x reader#xplr club#colby
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that isn't very holy of you :/
Yandere church boy x gn!reader
It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time
Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention
✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area
✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces
✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter
✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday
"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"
✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention
✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching
"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"
✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph
✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile
"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"
✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal
✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...
✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?
✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...
✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you
✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...
✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..
✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?
"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'
#queenie ocs#yandere x darling#queenie writes#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere male#yandere male x reader#ocs#male yandere#Yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc x you#Yandere boyfriend#Yandere church boy x reader#David the church boy#yandere blog#tw yandere#yandere boy#yandere community#yandere thoughts
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french revolution dashboard simulator
🐀 ami-du-peuple Follow
uh actually man has the right to deal with his oppressors by devouring their beating hearts. hope this helps.
🎩 departicle Follow
Hold up. Okay. Actually, fuck this. This sort of violent rhetoric should not be tolerated on here. Do you seriously think this sort of thing is going to make the nobility give you more rights???? You must be out of your minds! Reported.
🧵 seamstressproud Follow
reblog to devour this guy's beating heart
#username checks out lmao #politics #everybody point and laugh #common adp w
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organt-deactivated06151792
update: new canto out now!!! go check it out 😈😏🥀 (remember don't like don't read <3)
📜 sacredhostreceipts Follow
@centuriesandskies this you?? not such a great look for a convention rep ngl
🌄 centuriesandskies Follow
listen. I wrote this a long time ago, before I went into serious politics. the account is deactivated for a reason.
I was twenty. I did poorly. I can do better.
#sj.txt #if this is the worst dirt you can dig up on me #i'm way less corrupt than half the people in the convention these days #at least i'm not doing fucking. embezzlement. #also sacredhostreceipts if you're who i think you are #don't you have better things to do rn?
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🌎 landscape-showdown Follow
🌎 landscape-showdown Follow
why the fuck is everyone tagging this with french??? political figures?
#what the hell is going on over there #also maybe cool it with the death threats #I don't want this blog to get taken down #what's a girondin #is this some joke I'm not french enough to understand #showdown update
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⛪ progressivepriest Follow
Unpopular opinion but why is everyone so up in arms about the new Civil Oath? Literally all it's asking is for you to promise not to commit treason just because the Pope tells you to? I can see where people are coming from with the whole violation-of-religion deal, but can you blame the Assembly for trying to make sure the people aren't forcibly subjugated by the wealth of the nobility?
faith-first-alwaysdeactivated03011791
Sounds like something a heretic would say. To betray the Pope and king is to betray the will of God and your eternal soul! You should pray for forgiveness and pledge loyalty to the monarchy or have fun burning in hell. Sorry not sorry.
⛪ progressivepriest Follow
L + ratio + iirc the Bible says "it is easier for a rope to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven" (Matthew 19:24)
🎻 lacarmagn01e Follow
occasional based catholic moment, go off OP!
🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow
looked the faith-first-always guy's blog, he's like a massive anti-huguenot too 🙄 why is it always the prot-exclusive radical catholics smh
🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow
LMAOOOOO HE DEACTIVATED
#religion tag #percs fuck off #anyways op makes a valid point #reblog #percs dni
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🛌 virtuous-bedtime Follow
she committee on my safety til I can't go public
🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow
I don't understand the joke, can someone explain please?? 🙂 Thank you!
🧵 seamstressproud Follow
is that fucking MAXIMILIEN ROBESPIERRE?!!?!?!?
🛌 virtuous-bedtime Follow
oh my god citizen robespierre I'm so sorry this was not meant to break containment lol I didn't even know you were on this site please forget you saw this
#this is the most embarassing moment of my life #literally sobbing rn #the original post is /j i prommy #i cannot be known as the citizen who had to explain this to the government
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🪓 indulgentsfuckoff Follow
fabre d'eglantine is NOT your poor little meow meow citizens he literally falsified decrees from the national convention and embezzled money to line his own pockets. I don't care how uwu babygirl you think he is he is a CRIMINAL who should be ARRESTED
💛 i-give-people-bread Follow
🥖🍞🥐
#baguette #loaf #croissant #i-give-people-bread #indulgentsfuckoff #silly
2,011 notes
🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
fucking fed up with the constant threat of the swiss guard, I think it's time we got some gunpowder and weapons and took things into our own hands yknow what I'm saying
🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
I'm no longer joking about this btw
🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
update:
hopital
🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
ok bc I've gotten like 50 asks about this: I am not injured and I am not in need of medical care. the punchline was that we stormed the fucking hotel des invalides to get guns and powder. didn't want to clarify the joke before now for security reasons but everyone knows about that and the bastille thing by now. please direct your money to people who actually need it.
#shouldve clarified the last post was /j #however I assumed yall knew this joke already #anyways #revolution #personal #500 #1k
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🌾 nopain-nograin Follow
got so high at the festivial 2day i thnk i saw hte suapreme being
#robespiere speech was prboably 🔥 #unforntuately i camt rember any of it #grainposting #oipum ehre is somtehing else thes days #memes
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🎨 jldavid-real-moved Follow
incredible speech from @springtimeofgovernment today at the jacobin club. nobody should be permitted to use their positions as civic leaders to commit crimes against the people, even under the guise of revolutionary fervor. if it comes to it, I too will drink the hemlock with him. for france. 🤝🤝
🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow
Thanks for your support, @jldavid-real
The situation over here is deteriorating really quickly, the representatives are getting violent and abandoning due process entirely. Anything you can do to stand with us now would be very appreciated. You do a lot of great work for the revolution, and I trust you completely.
🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow
@jldavid-real are you still there? We could really use your help right now.
🌄 centuriesandskies Follow
boosting @springtimeofgovernment here, can confirm he's been injured in a skirmish at the hotel de ville, they're passing summary death sentences without trial, @jldavid-real where is the help you promised us??? the people of paris are our only hope now.
edit: of course he moved blogs. coward.
#sj.txt #disappointed yet unsurprised #marat would be ashamed of you #9 thermidor #update
15,794 notes
🎻 lacarmagn01e Follow
DNI if you support any of these groups/people or their actions: m0narchists, f3uillants, br1ssotins/g1rondins, th3rmidorians, b0napart1sts, h3nri du v3rgier (also goes by c0mte de r0chjacquelin), charl0tte c0rday, or lafay3tte
(h3bertists and dant0nists you're on thin ice. behave.)
#censored so they dont show up in the tags #dni #get your nasty ass ideologies off my page #won't hesitate to block and/or report any violators #pinned
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gracchus-babeufdeactivated05271797
reblog to make the directoire choke to death on their stupid fucking outfits
🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow
hey staff. yeah you. where did this blog go?? notfishgoujon and prairial-95 are gone as well?? cowards too afraid to show your faces lmao especially after the fucking mess the directoire's made of the country. bet you anything that staff are on their fucking payroll too iykwim at least the republic didn't tolerate fucking bribery
#this site's gone to the dogs since thermidor yr 2 #following the trend of the rest of the country tbh #i'll probably get nuked for posting this #if so i'm not making a new account #i'll just make a paleocities or smth #politics tag #reblog #don't play with me ik full well gb didn't delete his blog of his own free will #they also zero note glitched it #just when you think they can't stoop lower
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📕 spectrehauntingeurope Follow
it's been 50 fucking years since gracchus-babeuf (and the other CoE blogs) were deleted without warning and still no response from staff, the govt, or anything. the site's gone through a fuckton of ownership changes and still nothing.
we're working on a bit of a project (some of you might know abt it already), it's gonna be out prob in the next year or so. remember '89. remember '93 and '94. remember '97.
the people will rise again. it's only a matter of time. 🚩
-mod karl
#french revolution#pigeon.txt#shitpost#frev#frevblr#robespierre#saint just#marat#oof this was. a project.#dashboard simulator#funny#meme#unreality#just to be safe
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Hi! I really liked the Katsukis memories one, so I can suggest you make like Bakugo a few years ago got out of a really toxic relationship and he couldn’t really trust anyone because his last girlfriend or boyfriend used him for his money and fame being the no.2 hero, until he met reader. So now he’s taking them to his old childhood hood to met his parents. Mitsuki also didn’t really trust anyone to be with his baby boy, but when she saw you walk through the door, I feel like she would make a connection and had really good vibes with reader. Thank for reading!🧡💚🖤
Perfect (Request)
Katsuki Bakugou x Reader
Details/Warnings: established relationship, mention of a toxic ex, meeting the parents
Word Count: 1.1k
thank you for your suggestion and your kind comment! this was pretty fun to write so i hope i did it justice. i liked this :)
When someone you love treats you horribly, it's something you never forget. It scars you, and no matter how hard you try to get over it, that pain and those bad memories are always going to be there.
It takes a lot of time to heal from these kinds of things, but it's possible. For Katsuki, it took three years. His last relationship was great at first. He was happy and in love, and he thought his partner was too until they revealed their true colors.
After a year of dating they made it clear that they were only with him because of his status as a pro hero and his money. This was heart breaking of course. It hurts to find out the person you loved never loved you. Katsuki was angry and hurt, so he ended things immediately and swore to himself that he'd never date anyone again. He avoided any type of romantic relationship for the next three years while he focused on himself, until he met you.
Meeting you was unexpected, like most relationships are. He was very closed off at first and hesitant to get to know you, but you were able to crack open his shell and find him waiting on the inside.
Before you started dating, you didn't know about his past relationship but you knew something must've happened for him to be so guarded. So you made sure to let him take the lead in everything. You didn't want him to feel pressured, so you would let him make all the first moves.
When he eventually asked you to be official you were extremely happy that he trusted you enough to try dating again, since a month prior he told you about his last relationship.
Now, six months later, he wanted you to meet his parents. But they were hesitant too.
"I don't know Katsuki. Are you sure they're not like the last one?" Mitsuki asked.
Katsuki was currently at his parent's house, asking them if he could bring you over this weekend because he wanted them to meet you.
He groaned, "Yes, I'm sure. I knew them for a year before we started dating, and they're really understanding about everything that happened before."
His dad, Masaru, spoke up, "We're just worried about you son. We don't want you to get hurt like last time."
Katsuki looked down, "I know, but just trust me, okay? They're a really great person and I think you'll like them."
His parents looked at each other, then Mitsuki said "Fine. Bring them over this weekend at 5:00 pm. I'll make dinner."
Katsuki smiled.
Fast forward to the weekend, it was now the day you were meeting his parents and to say you were nervous is an understatement. Your boyfriend has mentioned before that his mom was a lot like him, so you were afraid she'd criticize you right away. He did say his dad was much calmer, but you were still afraid.
"I'm scared Katsuki. What if they don't like me?" You asked as you two parked outside of his childhood home.
He put a hand on your head, "Relax babe, I already talked to them. I know they're gonna love ya, alright? And if they don't then they can fuck off-"
"Katsuki!"
"It's true. I know they're my parents but I'm with you, and if they can't respect that then I won't talk to them."
You took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay. Can you hold my hand while we walk in?"
He nodded and did exactly as you asked as you both walked up to the large doors of the house. He knocked loudly twice before opening the door, announcing his arrival.
"Hag, I'm home!" He yelled, "Hey old man." He said to a man with glasses and brown spiky hair that was sitting at the dinner table.
The man was about to speak up but was cut off by a woman yelling, "I told you to stop calling me hag, brat!" Then, a woman that looked just like Katsuki walked out of the kitchen.
"Oh-Hello there! I'm Mistuki." She said and shook your hand.
You smiled and gave her your name, "It's so nice to meet you. You have really beautiful skin."
She laughed loudly, "That's thanks to my quirk, glycerin. Keeps my skin moisturized. Now both of you come and sit down! I made dinner for everyone."
Katsuki continued holding your hand and walked you to the dining table next to the man who you were assuming was his father.
He smiled and held out a hand, "I'm Masaru, Katsuki's father. It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you'll excuse my wife, she can be a bit, well-I'm sure you know." He said with a small laugh. You noticed he was much more soft spoken compared to his wife and son.
You continued to talk to him and Katsuki at the table until Mitsuki came and placed the dish on the table. You were able to tell right away that she had made katsu curry.
You each served yourselves, though Katsuki kept insisting he serve you.
"Stop it. I want to do it." You said pushing him lightly.
He kissed his teeth, "Just let me do it will ya?"
"No." You then bumped him with your hip and served yourself, quickly serving him as well, making him sigh.
As you two communicated in your own way, his parents smiled at your interaction. Mitsuki was a little hesitant to, but Masaru rubbed her shoulder almost to let her know he was okay.
During dinner you all talked about everyday things, mostly surrounding you and Katsuki's relationship.
"So, how did you guys meet?" Mitsuki asked.
"We actually met at the public library." You said, "It was in the romance section, coincidentally."
"Yeah and you were picking a shitty book." Katsuki spoke up.
"Hey it wasn't my fault! I didn't even know anything about it."
As dinner went on, his parents, especially his mother, realized that you really were different than his last partner. They could see the way you cared for him just by how you spoke to him and interacted with him. Even the little touches you gave him on his shoulder or arm here and there.
At the end of the night when you said your goodbyes, his parents made sure to see you both out.
Mitsuki hugged you tightly and whispered "Thanks for taking care of my boy." Pulling away, she said "Come back anytime, all right? Don't let this brat convince you I'm crazy."
Katsuki rolled his eyes while you giggled.
Once you both drove away, Masaru asked his wife "So? What do we think?"
She nodded, "I think they're perfect."
tag list for bakugou fics: @doumadono
#@angels-fantasy#fanfiction#fanfic#anime#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x you#bnha bakugou#my hero academia
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Kinknuary Day 6: Begging
Pairing: (G)I-DLE Yuqi x Male Reader
Word Count: 5,223
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“Yuqi, you can’t just buy everything you want—”
“But can’t you see? I have it all over me.” Yuqi brags about the plethora of shopping bags she’s carrying, knowing that it will slap you towards what she has mustered but you need to slap her back to reality. So, gripping her wrists and forcing herself to be in level with you, you glared at her, laced with venom as you’re not having this bratty attitude of hers.
“Listen here you little shit—you can’t buy anything of these without my money, so, you should be obedient about everything I say because my asshole doesn’t shit money and if it would, there’s a fucking limit, do you understand?”
It’s like Yuqi never knew about limitations as she will utilize what she can to get what she wants and you hate it yet there’s an optimistic side of this, is that, she’s doesn't force things out of your pocket because she rather begs for it until you agree and that’s your weakness—her, alone. Her charisma is off the roof, with even the people you pass by with her, some can’t help but get their attention stolen with Yuqi’s beauty as she’s glamorous as always and you can’t blame them with that.
Yet you know that enough is enough, and she should be taught a lesson even though it will fall deaf on her ears.
“But please—can I have at least shop for one more time, please??”
No matter how much she begs, or lures you in to play the game that definitely she’ll win, she won’t succeed with her current wants, leaving it only for her to imagine and not grasp it within her reach.
“I told you, Yuqi, we can’t—maybe someday—”
“Aish—you know what? It’s fine, I got what I needed anyway—can we just go home now?” Yuqi chides boredom as she doesn't get to succeed with her attempts, earning a faint smile on your face. She’s mildly irritated because of you—it’ll grow until it becomes unbearable to take—and you know she’s running out of options, so you took it as an advantage.
“Why don’t we just go around the place and have some fun, Yuqi?”
“Shopping is damn tiring, you know that? I just want to go home…” You’re not falling for another trap just to fulfill and succumb to her possible needs, so you’re doing everything on your own power to convince her of your own wants instead of fulfilling hers—talk about being fair to each other which probably doesn’t exist in her dictionary.
“But aren’t you feeling tired?”
Well, you've thought of enlightenment yourself—you're probably as tired as she is, as if walking for hours isn’t enough, then you don't know what is—and you’re afraid to agree with her. You don’t want to lie or make yourself a hypocrite towards her but it is the truth—you feel the enervation yourself and knowing you have the higher authority, you came up to a conclusion in order to close the continuous pleading and annoyance of Yuqi.
“You know what, let’s just go home since we’ve bought so many things today.”
“Ahh, yes! Thank god you agreed with me, daddy.”
Ah, the forbidden word has been used publicly and to think that someone may find it unorthodox, you quickly glared at her, wanting to shut her mouth up because of embarrassment.
“You better not call me that in public, Yuqi.”
“Or what? Are you gonna shut me up with your dick in my mouth—”
You grabbed her wrists and glared at her, this time, it’s much more intimidating and scarier, all laced with venom for her to stop. “God, be careful!”
You didn’t mind your reckless actions as you wanted to prove a point towards her.
“Shut your whore mouth or something’s going to happen to you, Yuqi.”
“Like what?” She confidently taunts you, knowing that you wouldn’t lay down a finger to her, let alone curse her with words full of lustful profanities in public.
“You know what—you’re going to get punished, Yuqi. Go to the car and let’s go home.” Your tone is demanding and stern, almost sending a chill down her spine but despite all of that, she hides a smile, knowing that she’ll soon be reaching that promised land she always wanted. Not wasting some time, she briskly walked towards the car, excited about what’s about to happen and little did she know, you have plans to truly teach her a lesson she won’t forget.
---
A bratty mind is hard to be penetrated with lessons as the iron wall defending is as strong as her ego, and you’re willing to break it yet, if it means for her to be deprived and on the urge of almost breaking that wall, then it’s going to be a successful attempt to teach her.
It’s not like it’s going to be hard—it would take some time because you know how Yuqi always loved you and your cock.
“You wanted to act tough, I’ll show you what’s tough.”
Without the profounded foreplay that she always liked and just being straight to the point, her helpless cries are ignored—bound to break her and truly submit into the abyss of the lowest points. With her wrists tied onto her back, herself in all fours and her clothing yanked off onto where it is—you didn’t where it was because it will be useless right now, no matter how she looked phenomenal with that outfit—her full, naked body is now display as you admire it and worship it, plating soft kisses onto her neck and the fondling of her small, perky mounds that makes Yuqi release such sounds that arouses both parties.
“Can’t do anything, hm? This is what you get for acting such a bitch earlier.”
Yuqi whines uncontrollably within teases of your hands and lips, the sensitivity she feels now off the charts considering how she’s feeling deprived with her needs. You’d love to have her clothing on while teasing the living fuck out of her but this was probably way better than what you envisioned earlier.
“But please, daddy—g-give me what I want…”
She’s straightforward and needy, you can see the desperation in her eyes yet you’ll let her know that everything should be earned and well-deserved. Well, asking her won’t give her anything but feed you information as she didn’t deserve anything, yet.
“What do you even want from me, Yuqi?” You ask her as she moans, struggling to answer back as the skillful display of talent was shown with the way you tease the labia of her wet cunt and the fondling of her small mounds. “You and y-your cock, daddy.”
You chuckled right after, feeling the lack of sincerity within her tone as her voice trembles, voicing her satisfaction as she lets you know that she wants you genuinely and nothing more.
“You don’t seem to be honest about that, Yuqi.”
“B-but I am, daddy! Please j-just please fuck me already. I didn’t strip a-and put on a show for—gahh—nothing, daddy.”
The audacity of this slut—it’s just mesmerizing that even with the utmost pleasure running down her veins, she manages to even retaliate back with disrespect and selfishness, and that further ignites the feeling of punishing her and teasing her. If she wants her needs to be fulfilled, she might have to be patient or beg for it.
“If you really want this cock—then beg for it, Yuqi.”
She looks at your eyes endearingly, her puppy-eyes really flicking the switch into you as she begs for everything that can make her reach her desired treasure. Her voice trembles as she feels nervous begging for you but it’s truly the ravishing essence—her full submission while being helpless to do anything is the hidden beauty and it’s such a beautiful sight.
“P-please, daddy—I’ll do everything—” Her orbs glistens with lust and anticipation, wanting you to oblige on her needs as you can’t seem to pull the trigger;
“—I w-want your cock—to t-tastes it and savor it—please, daddy—” And she mutters up such profanities that further arouses you, an attempt to let yourself gave in to your own carnal needs;
“—Please, daddy—I’ll be your g-good girl just please, I w-want it…” And there she goes—her one, final advancement towards her own needs and for the sake of your pleasure—to pick the lock that you’ve been abstaining and depriving her for.
With the way she begs like she had lost everything, starting from her refulgent puppy-eyes up to her pleading tone, you can’t help but give in to the temptation of fulfilling her needs—most likely your needs since you want to teach her a lesson by fucking that bitchy attitude out of her but not all starts from the climax, it must start with one hell of an exordium.
“You really want it, huh, Yuqi?” Yuqi didn’t hesitate to nod, further encouraging you onto fulfilling her desires. “Then go on your knees, you can do it yourself.”
It was hard to maneuver in Yuqi’s end but you didn’t care. She immediately thrusted herself up, her knees crawling backwards and off the bed, in order to stand up and to get on her knees. The visible struggle was there but she did it nonetheless, her submissive demeanor all for you to admire as she looks helpless with her hands tied onto her back. You then quickly undressed your bottom half—you’d probably make Yuqi to strip it off on you but with her hands tied up, you didn’t bother to kill the essence of an occurring punishment—as you can see Yuqi’s eyes lighting up in awe and hunger, gazing into your erect length like it’s a long-lost treasure she’s always been wanting to obtain and now it’s just a step closer within her mouth’s reach. You then sit down onto the side of the bed, spreading out your legs as you relax yourself to be close for comfort and then command Yuqi to unleash her own masterclass of a show.
“I assume you know what to do, slut.”
Yuqi inches herself closer to you as her face indicates such an analytical approach to your cock, mesmerized and possibly adoring your length as her doe-eyes scan every inch possible. She didn’t bother to tease you as her hands are deemed useless, now her mouth is doing the job of pleasuring you instead of anything else. She swirls her tongue onto your leaking slit that’s already doused with the infamous colorless liquid as she alternates her tongue actions with kisses that peppered around your shaft. You wouldn’t mind her lipstick smudging onto the base of your shaft as she takes you balls-deep in her mouth if it means to give you the utmost pleasure and it’s like she wouldn’t oblige to it—she even want it rough, always taking your whole length until she’s a disheveled, gagged-up mess. With the mouthwork she’s been servicing onto your now saliva-sheathed shaft, you can’t help but moan as she’s doing a great job considering the lack of her hands that could probably make everything better—you know how skillful her hands are; and just by the dexterity of her fingers on her handjobs onto the fondling of your balls, you couldn’t ask for anything more and with that though, you almost regretted tying her hands up but the main mission here is to punish her, deprive her on her needs on your own accord.
“God—your mouth, Yuqi—keep sucking me j-just like that. This bratty mouth feels good—we should’ve done this sooner.”
Of course, she can’t respond with her mouth full of your cock and she won’t even bother to—it was evident, knowing how much effort she’s been exerting on sucking you off seals the deal. The way her head bobs frantically and then burying her mouth balls-deep, her lips being in contact onto the soft skin at the base of your shaft (also add the constant gags that has been resonating around the room) is truly a hypnotic and an arousing sight—this feels too good to be true and you love every second of it. With her current pace, drool inevitably seeps out of her mouth as she doesn't mind the filthiness she’s been luring into as she minds servicing you with her mouth as she seizes the opportunity on her utmost capabilities. Now pulling out of your shaft to give herself a leverage to breathe, she asked you something that she shouldn’t be bothering to ask for as the answer would be obvious.
“Can I p-please suck your balls, daddy?”
“No one’s stopping you, Yuqi—go on.”
Yuqi now averts her attention towards your sensitive balls as she tongues it with care, not wanting to hurt you. To further assist her and to gradually keep up the pleasure you’ve been experiencing, you took your raging length and stroked yourself with the arousing look of Yuqi’s naked, submissive body as she laps your balls in aims to further stimulate you. It is damn working and she’s good at it, considering how her hands can’t really influence or make anything better, she’s doing a great job as every gentle suck onto each testicle earns a ragged moan escaping your lips. She takes this as a compliment as she sucks onto each ball with care as you stroke yourself in tandem with that, further maintaining the stimulation you once gave yourself into.
“Now suck me off again, Yuqi. I wanna see that pretty dick-sucking mouth at work again.”
“Of course, daddy.”
Yuqi returns her mouth onto your whole length again, taking it all in like it was all nothing as a single, immediate deepthroat unlocks a series of gags from hers, which further stimulates you into oblivion. She’s in her own league when it comes to dick-sucking—who would’ve thought that such a cute, classy girl whose demeanor is peak-sophistication is a cockslut? Well, that wasn’t surprising considering how much you influenced her on being herself—being so goddamn hot in every outfit she wears and it’s just crazy thinking about that.
Well, you don’t need to think about it when it’s already within inches close to you—lucky you…
She continues her earlier rapid pace as she fucks her mouth onto your throbbing shaft like she wants to prove something—her worth to deserve you and you only. With her constant gags, fast pace, saliva messing up her beautiful visage and the tears adding up to the sullied mess on her face, you can’t hold the fact of abstaining yourself to your desired peak. Encouraging her for more, you praise her masterclass as you caress her gray-almost-hazelnut locks for stroking her ego.
“God fucking dammit, Yuqi—I’m so fucking close—put that t-tight mouth into good use and make daddy cum—fuck!”
She obviously responded with an incredible pace and mouthfucking, mouthing her satisfaction with constant muffles and gags as you could feel your blood rushing, your peak nearing to an end of its hot pursuit as at last, it was truly unbearable to hold it in anymore.
Yuqi, being the clever girl that she is, buries her mouth balls-deep onto your shaft as you hold a vice grip onto her head, a leverage to the constant pleasure you’re into. Thick shots of warm seed welcomes Yuqi’s slutty throat as every spurt receives a warm welcome from her, smiling as best as she can even with a mouthful of cock and the gags being the cherry on top. You let out fervor-filled moans and groans, voicing your satisfaction on your fifteen-second euphoric release inside her mouth.
“You probably deserved that, Yuqi—would have come onto your face but it is what it is.”
After pulling out and letting out exhausted breaths, Yuqi sticks out her tongue to show your incredible hard work all over it, and then quickly swallows your creamy, healthy load with two gulps, herself struggling a little because of such a marvelous volume of your load. Your load was so much to the point that some seeped out of her chin and onto her lips, you then aiding to help her clean it up as no food shall be wasted, wiping it with your fingers and then directing it onto her mouth and eagerly, Yuqi sucked onto it, not wasting a single drop.
“But I want you to paint my face, daddy—can you please cum on my face, daddy, please—”
“No—” You commanded her to get up as she immediately obliged, inching closer to her as you have a lot of plans in store with her today as her wants shouldn’t be attended first. “—I would want to cum on your face, yes, but girls like you—I don’t even know if you deserve it, let alone inside your tight, little pussy.”
A visible frown and pout is evident on her face, expressing her sadness with your proposition but an enlightenment snaps her back to her delighted self, knowing she’ll get her needs attended to by you and soon, you’ll give in but it won’t be that easy.
“Then just fuck me senseless and cum in pussy, daddy—”
“You fucking slut—” You then grabbed her wrists in order to be dangerously closer to her as you smack her buttocks harshly, earning a sultry whine from Yuqi as the rage inside you is now emanating an aura of fear as she feels it too, eyebrows furrowing as she doesn’t know what to anticipate. “—you’re really that cockhungry, huh?”
Yuqi nods as she lets out a deep sigh of anxiety and anticipation, feeling such a roller-coaster of emotions as she doesn’t know how she could take this situation in a sense that she’ll be relieved knowing that everything is going to be smooth. She kneels down in front of you, and then makes contact with your eyes as those glistening orbs plead for your mercy, to fulfill her needs on your own accord.
“P-please, daddy—I n-need you in my cunt right n-now—fuck, please, daddy!”
It’s the way she begs that makes the difference amongst everything else—those endearing eyes that can get any man lost with its stare and her voice, her deep, sultry voice that’s just the cherry on top. You love seeing herself at her lowest, the point where she’ll beg for anything to sustain her needs and it’s just an arousing sight to see. You’ll note this and would definitely take advantage of her submissiveness just hear Yuqi begging for you.
“P-please, daddy—I’ll do anything just t-to be fucked silly.”
And god you can’t resist the temptation of depriving her needs when her verbal attempts to persuade you onto such sinful acts. You can’t really contain anything anymore as you just hope to ruin her and to fuck that bitchy attitude out of her. Not really going to abstain yourself from reaching your own carnal desires, you command her to get up as you’re about to give in to the abyss of no-return and full satisfaction.
“Get on all fours onto the bed, head down, ass up, and since you’re begging like a fucking cockhungry whore and don’t worry Yuqi—I’ll make sure you’re legs won’t work until tomorrow, or maybe even a week considering how you’ve made me this fucking horny.” Once she quickly obliged to be in position, you swiftly gave her bubble butt harsh spanks that almost left your handprint in it and you’re definitely marking it red because she’s yours and she loves it, so, you won’t even mind stopping even it’s on her own accord—you even vividly remember how she came hard with just your merciless spanks at her butt and your fingers fucking her pussy and god, it’s such a sight to remember. The rage inside you is brewing in such a potent quality that you’re willing to fuck her senseless, no matter what happens. Now getting up onto the bed with her, you kneel down as you spank her again, and then another, consistently giving her a barrage of harsh smacks that every clash resonates around the bedroom. Having enough of it as you successfully imprinted your palm onto her scrumptiously plump cheeks, you avert your attention onto her needy pussy, brushing your fingers off it just to tease her and immediately, she lets out series of muffled moans as her thighs quiver with sensitivity.
“You’re so fucking hot, Yuqi—no wonder why people eye on you like they’re about to fuck you at any given time—shit, you’re so fucking hot.”
No one can blame you for that because with the insane hourglass waist she’ve worked hard to impress you—and sure she definitely did considering how you’re always in awe whenever taking a look of that tone midriff—you can’t help but utter such compliments not just to stroke her ego, but to make her wetter because she’s about to take such force that she’ll give into submission anytime.
You didn’t really waste some time to finger her pussy further, but instead brushed your tip against her pussy and without any warning, you plunge inside her as the both of you moaned in unison, the tightness of her walls nigh-suffocating your shaft like it’s about to immediately milk out a load from you—it’s just pure insanity how her walls grip around your raging member everytime as it just voices her satisfaction whenever you’re having sex with her—and her moaning (almost whining) in delight because of the girth of your whole length that’s not easy to take—you could tell the hint of struggle within her as you can see her hands curling as well as her ragged, muffled moans. You took some time to be accustomed to the tightness of her cunt as not so long after, you thrust in her with a moderate pace that defies peak pleasure. You weren’t getting to harsh on her, yet, because you wanted her to give such time to prepare on what’s coming next and also, you wanted well-paced fucking with a rising action and not to the anticipated climax immediately, although, you want to really give her the thrusts of a lifetime, and it’s not gonna be long until such filthiness is about to happen.
“Mmfh—mfh!”
“What are you saying, Yuqi?” You pull her hair, arching her back, as she lets out sets of profanities that makes her succumb onto the intense pleasure that has been coursing down her veins since the start you’ve laid a finger on her heated core.
“Can d-daddy f-fuck me harder, please?”
Still engrossed onto suckling the porcelain skin of her neck and peppering her nape and shoulders with kisses, it took you seconds to respond and with a hitch of anger. “You really have the audacity to think if I can—” You gave her butt a harsh spank in response to her bewildering audacity as she let out another sultry whimper that made your cock twitch. “—fuck you harder? Well—fuck, you’re tight, Yuqi—really fucking tight—so, you need to beg for it—beg then you may have a chance.”
Muttering up the green light, she didn’t hesitate to let out her wants as you still her head harshly and reduced the pace of your thrusts, wanting her to articulate and hear the best sinful profanities coming out of her slutty mouth.
“P-please, daddy—f-fuck your gi—girl like she deserves it—l-like a bitchy s-slut who a-always wants your cock at—gahh—any g-given time—fuck, please, daddy, fuck the l-living whore o-out of me—I k-know I’m a bitch—a fucking bitch when you teach m-me a l-lesson—ahh, fuck, daddy!”
You didn’t let her finish her sentence because even halfway with her lustful speech is the uncontainable sheer of will to fuck her senseless as it helped ignite the raging flame inside you, your hips oscillating such pace that like a man could never do. You rev your engines, or should I say, your hips in a merciless pace that Yuqi inevitably lets out the most erotic, lustful moans you’ve ever heard on your whole life, orchestrating such a masterpiece that should be composed as a symphony—it’s not like you’ve probably recorded multiple symphonies full of her moans onto your brain and you wish you could record it right now but your focus is now averted towards fucking her. Now, letting go of her gray-hazelnut locks, you grab her mounds as you fondle whilst maintaining such an incredible pace, further lighting up the flame of lust Yuqi’s been into as the stimulation is becoming too much.
“You’ve wanted t-this all along, huh? S-shit, you’re a crazy girl, Yuqi.”
“I c-could never help it whenever d-daddy’s cock fill up m-my tight cunt—fuck, so f-fucking good, daddy—so good!”
Voicing her satisfaction with your wild treatment on her, you continue fucking her like an animal as now, you continued on kissing her back, peppering it with your affection as now, you also added spanks at random intervals between your thrusts and god, it’s making Yuqi insane considering how stimulating all of these are. Every clash of your bodies and jiggles of her thighs sends you into an hypnotic trance, allowing yourself to lure yourself onto fucking her with ridiculous pace.
It makes so much of a difference with her hands idle and just curling because of the intense pleasure, but, it allows you to have more leverage and control over her, considering how she always interrupts you with her hands being all over your back, scratching it while fucking in a mating press position and more, and it’s such an incredible experiment what you’ve laid upon to.
“D-daddy—ahh…”
“Yes, Yuqi?”
Even if you can’t see her expression of plea and submissiveness, you could spark an imaginative figure of it as you reduced the pace a little, giving her a breather to propose something.
“C-can I suck on your f-fingers while y-you’re fucking me, please, d-daddy—please?”
Not wasting time for anymore foreplay, you avert your other hand onto her mouth as she sucks onto your index finger whilst building up the pace again. The stream forming around of your cock signals her utmost satisfaction and pleasure, and with the combined techniques you’re doing to further make it run like a waterfall, it’s almost inevitable for her to hold it in as it drips onto the bed sheets, staining it—you’re gonna need a new set of bed sheets after you’re done with her, that’s for sure. With a harsh grip of her hips to further piston your hips onto euphoria, you continue your earlier wild pace as every clench of her cunt does wonders to your brain, sending you into overdrive as continuous erotic and muffled moans escape Yuqi’s lips. Speaking of clenching, you could tell how close she is to achieving her own orgasm as not so long after, she pulled out of your fingers after multiple gags as she’s now calling out her near high.
“Daddy—I’m g-gonna cum s-so soon!”
Not wanting to deny anything as you can’t stop yourself either, soon, the inevitable will come for her as you gave her the green light: “Then cum for me, baby—don’t hold back.”
To further aid onto reaching her high, you gave her an onslaught of wild thrusts as she screams in delight, announcing her euphoric release. With still your cock buried deep in her pussy, she came hard as streams of her juices flowed around your girth and dripped onto the bed sheets, some on her thighs and your balls. Not really wanting to break the euphoric essence of pleasure, you’re still fucking her slowly and yet, your carnal desires kick in and fucked her like it’s your last, not giving her time to recover from her earlier strong orgasm. With such an incredible session you’ve been into, you want to end this on a better note and with that in mind, an idea comes into your mind for utmost arousal.
“Where do you want me to cum, Yuqi? Inside your tight, little cunt, filling you up to the brim? Or, all over your body where I can paint possibly every inch to show how much of a slut you are?”
Such ways of a hell of a release is such a spectacular sight, no matter what the concluding act is an arousing sight. With your proposal, Yuqi will always want your thick semen to be released inside her cunt, filling her up to the hilt but of course, you would choose the opposite, wanting to hear her beg for one more time.
“I w-want you to c-cum in my pussy, daddy—use me and f-fill your girl up!”
“But I’d rather paint you instead of filling you up, how about that, hm, Yuqi?”
“But, please—daddy, I w-want it inside me, please…”
Being satisfied upon her pleas, you’ve thought of a brilliant idea of seeing her face while cumming, so, you pull out of her which earned an upset whine from her as you commanded her to face you as the grand finale is within your hand’s reach.
“Turn around so I can cum in you in this position.”
“Yes, daddy—o-oh! You’re s-so deep in t-this position, daddy! Please, fuck me hard and c-cum inside my slut pussy!”
Without holding anything back, you immediately plunge your length inside her as the penetration is crazy, filling her up balls-deep in every thrust. You’re fucking her like you meant it and you absolutely did, each thrust earning the most hypnotic jiggles of her thighs as her face expresses numerous emotions containing lust and delight, and soon, it’s about to break loose—the contained damn for ages about to break out, again. With your wet balls slapping repeated against her puckered hole, it just represents the wild pace you’re exerting as you didn’t announce your orgasm anymore, wanting to catch Yuqi off-guard but it’s like she couldn’t tell you’re about to go off considering your constant throbbing inside her tight walls.
You buried your shaft, filling her up to the hilt and immediately, you came, shooting another thick load of your seed deep in her as she moans and in order to silence it, you capture her lips as she immediately reciprocates, sharing such an intimate kiss between your orgasmic trance. Having enough of the battle of dominance onto each other’s mouth, you pull out your mouth of her as you did the same on your cock, meeting a sight of her now-creampied pussy as the sight is just worthy to behold—her cunt mixed with your semen and her juices and some seeping out of her hole and onto the bed sheets. With now your softening cock, you didn’t even bother to let her clean it up; but instead, you opted to pull her into a deep, passionate kiss one more time to voice your satisfaction on today’s steamy session.
“God, daddy—you came s-so much, thank you—hah…”
“Just don’t act like a bitch and you’ll be rewarded like that, Yuqi.”
“But I wasn’t—”
“Don’t even start it—you felt great too, though.”
Yuqi blushes as the compliment makes her lower her guard, not just with the fact that her ego is stroked but with the fact of genuinity laces on each of your words.
“You fucked me great too—wanna clean up?”
“Sure—just please, I don’t wanna have sex in the bathroom.”
“Hah—who knows? Maybe it could be more than that…” God, this girl will never change and it’s like she’s about to take another with her wobbly legs, you doubt she can do anything sexual for now but you won’t mind it—who damn knows, right?
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The only way I can rationalise people accepting literal children going out and fighting crime as Robin is if they don't think Robin is a real child.
I think it would be fun to see how Bruce would use that to his advantage in protecting his kids. Like, if people think Robin isn't human, if they instead think he's a spirit or a ghost, they are less likely to shoot at him, less likely to try and physically attack Robin because they think it would be no use.
The fun part would be deciding HOW they would do this. I like to think that Robin's domino mask doesn't have a hole for his eyes but instead is glazed over so that he can see out of it, but you can't see in. Maybe they install small lights in it so it looks like his eyes glow in the dark, because can you image how fucking scary it would be to just see these two sentient light-like eyes and just know the Batman must be lurking somewhere close by?
Maybe Bruce installs super strong magnets in their gloves because on the chance that someone does pull a gun on his kid close range, it would be a lot easier for them to grab the gun away if they had the force of magnetism on their side. Also, grabbing onto poles and other metal materials would make all the scaling on tall buildings a little safer. Obviously, they'd need a way to turn it on and off, but still. Can you imagine, you're in a warehouse and there are steel frames fucking everywhere and you look up and suddenly there's a child gripping onto one effortlessly? Horrifying.
Maybe they have a voice box. Want to scare people? Play this really ominous recording of a child's laughter that echoes just a bit too loud to be normal. Play this ominous screaming that seems too silent to be real. Play this ticking that seems to never end that induces stress and increases the chance of them messing up.
What would be even funnier is keeping this act up with the Justice League and other teams.
Batman doesn't bring Robin to these meetings at the beginning because he sees no need to involve a preteen in such matters, but at some point the subject does come up and it's sort of like; So, Bats, what exactly is the kid? Like...is he yours?
And Bruce (paranoid as fuck) doesn't want to admit to these people that yes, Robin is my son because hello? That's gotta be his biggest weakness, he would do anything to keep that kid safe and fuck them if they ever tried to hurt him to get to Bruce.
So, he tells them that he's a spirit sent to haunt him and remind the city of it'd failures and the Justice League just... believe him?? Because this is Batman, and why would Batman ever lie about something so, frankly, strange? And it's not a huge deal, like they're a team comprised of metas and aliens and literal godesses, so what if the one normal human guy has a weird little ghost child? Who cares if he cares about it like it's a real boy? Maybe the baby spirit has rights, too!! They don't know!
So, when the JLA gets more popular and becomes an actual, legal part of the American government, they're required to list all of their members. And they class Batman as a human, because that's obvious but next to Robin, they don't really know what to say or how to ask Batman about it, ao they just put "Unknown Child Spirit - TBD"
And then just... never change it?
So, they don't question why a few years later Robin seems to look entirely different, or why after that he changes again, or why Robin is suddenly a girl for a while before going back to a little boy. That's obviously just some weird spirit thing they don't understand, and it's not like Batman is going to explain it!
#batman#batman and robin#robin#justice league#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#stephanie brown#damian wayne#the kids obviously play into this as well making themselves seem not fully human#but also??#they arent exactly normal anyway so it really doesn't matter#dick joins a team for the 1st time as robin and everyone else is kind of like#“so...do you eat? are you...wanna play video games??”#and dick#who has been raised in a circus before joining a family comprised of batman and alfred has not really played any video games#and obviously there is no way a real human child has not played video games before so everyone never even thinks that MAYBE its not true#shit talker talks
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KISS ME MORE || lee minho
PAIRING: brother’s best friend!minho x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 13.2k
SUMMARY: he's your brother's best friend, and that should be enough to keep him off limits. but he's just a little too handsome, and you're just a little in too deep.
GENRE(S): smut, fluff
WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, fingering, degradation, praise, use of petnames (kitten and baby), dumbification, mean!dom minho] minho knows he's hot and is a menace to society
The first time you met him, he was leaning against the doorframe of your living room.
He was visiting your brother, but the fact that he wasn't here for you seemed to slip from your mind the moment you saw him. An infuriatingly pretty smile was planted onto his face, his hand brushing his hair out of his face as he introduced himself as Lee Minho to your family, not even sparing you a single glance.
Lee Minho.
It tasted good on your tongue, his name.
You wanted him already.
Lee Minho.
He'd met your brother a few years earlier, since they were both obsessed with dancing. Apparently, Minho was the best dancer on the team. Not that it came as a surprise when Chan brought it up at the dining table later that evening. You had already come to the conclusion that Lee Minho was god's favorite, and, consequently, good at everything he did.
He also lived only a few houses away from you and Chan, as it turned out. Basically a neighbor, your mom had commented when he revealed his address and you nodded along – did this mean you'd get to see him often?
That question was answered fairly quickly as Chan assured everyone they'd spend most of their time at Minho's house instead – so as not to disturb anyone, he had said. Oh, what a caring brother you had. At that moment you wanted to strangle him to death. Didn't he understand that Lee Minho was the most handsome boy you'd ever seen in your life?
Or maybe he did understand, and that whole 'staying away from the Bang residency' thing was intentional because he, being the logical sibling, knew that if you happened to fall in love with his best friend, everything would become really awkward.
Which, yeah, sure, makes sense. Lee Minho is, after all, your brother's best friend. You shouldn't like him, and he shouldn't like you.
Having gathered that information, it’s pretty obvious that there is just no fucking way that you have a chance with him.
Right?
—
Two pm. That’s when his dancing lessons start. You haven’t memorized his schedule or anything – you’re not a creep, obviously – you know this solely because your brother shares that class with him. Yeah. It has nothing to do with the fact that you enjoy every second you can spend outside the dance hall, able to let your stare rest on Minho without seeming desperate. Because if there’s anything you dread more than him not paying attention to you, it’s him thinking of you as Chan’s pathetic little sister.
It’s fun watching him dance. He’s so good at it that it’s mesmerizing, his movements clean and gaze focused as he learns the choreography way quicker than the rest of the dancers. It’s no secret that he’s better than them, yet it doesn’t seem to bother them. Maybe it shouldn’t bother you, either. If only him being out of your league was the only problem. But it isn’t, so you decide not to think about it anymore, and rather focus on the homework in front of you as you wait for your brother to finish class.
Except it’s very hard to take your eyes off someone who looks like him at that very moment – shirt sweaty and sticking to his body, accentuating his arms a little too well. You almost choke on air as he thrusts his hips forward – something that surely is a part of the choreography but shouldn’t be, because it makes you bite your lip and press your thighs together, thinking that you wouldn’t have anything against having those pretty hands of his wrapped around your neck as he thrusts into you like that.
You sigh and look away when they stop dancing, mentally slapping yourself. You've gone completely crazy, developing a crush on your brother's best friend, that's for sure.
“Hey, did you wait long?” You hear your brother’s voice to your right and you turn around to face him, pushing away your previous thoughts as your eyes land on his frame.
It takes all of your mental strength not to scream when you see that Chan isn’t the only person headed towards you as he leaves class, but that he’s accompanied by none other than Lee Minho – the guy whose dick you were thinking about just a minute ago. Shit, that’s just your luck isn’t it? Obviously, he just had to be here, and obviously, the one time you wish he wouldn’t pay attention to you, he does. You try your best not to look too caught off guard as you feel your face heat up from the way Minho’s eyes are set on you, cursing the world for the awful timing.
“You’re coming with us?” You blurt out in his direction, forcing your gaze to stay away from the way his soaked through white shirt allows you to see everything underneath and to focus on looking him right in the eye. Which is hard enough by itself, because his stare is so strong you fear your legs will give out from underneath you.
“Yeah,” He says, and you swear his voice has gotten even more attractive since you heard him last. “Is that a problem?”
“Of course not,” Chan answers for you. “We just need to finish practicing the choreo. We’ll be outside anyway, so we won’t bother you, right, Y/N?”
“Right.”
You’re quick to gather your things, relieved that when your eyes land on Minho’s frame again, he’s no longer looking at you, his face stoic like it usually is. The three of you head towards the bus stop, and you’re happy that it arrives after less than a minute, certain that this is an opportunity to sit somewhere where you can silently admire the dancer without him catching your stare. Unfortunately for you, the bus is packed with people eager to get home and there are no sitting spots available, forcing the three of you to squeeze your way through the crowd and into a corner.
You feel goosebumps spread across your skin as Minho’s shoulder accidentally brushes over yours, clutching your bag a little harder and biting your lip. It’s so unfamiliar, having him this close to you, so close that you can hear his breathing. You’re sure that if you moved only a little to the left, you’d be able to hear his heartbeat, too. A small gasp leaves your mouth as the bus abruptly moves, making you almost lose your balance. Thankfully, you manage to grab the handle above your head to steady yourself before you trip.
It takes you a total of two and a half seconds to realize it’s the same handle that Minho’s holding. It takes you another three to realize you’re literally holding onto his fucking hand, that your skin is in contact with Lee Minho’s skin.
Holy shit.
You retrieve your hand so fast that you didn’t even know you could react that quickly, and it feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest as you look everywhere just not in his direction. Did he notice that? Of course he did, how could he not? You held onto his hand, for fuck’s sake! And even if he didn’t care about that, he surely must’ve raised a brow at how you reacted to the physical contact. Like a crazy person. God, there is just no way you can ever look him in the eye after this.
The rest of the ride you just keep your eyes planted to the floor, hoping you don't look as embarrassed as you feel.
“We’re here,” You hear Chan say after a while, more to his friend than to you.
You wait for them to go first, not wanting to draw more attention to yourself, but your plan fails the moment Minho turns around in the doorway, looking at you expectantly. “You coming?”
This time, as you’re walking past him, you make sure not to let your shoulder come in contact with his, but it doesn’t change the way your skin tingles when you meet his gaze for a split second. God, it’s going to be a long walk home.
Fortunately for you, there’s a limit to how long a three hundred meters walk can last, and so after a couple of minutes, you’ve arrived. You waste no time going up to your room while Chan and Minho stay downstairs. The moment you enter the room it feels like you can finally breathe.
Sitting down by the window, you calm yourself down, for the first time in your life happy to be away from your brother’s annoyingly hot best friend. You even manage to forget him for a while, almost too caught up in your homework to notice the two boys practicing on the lawn beneath your window. Almost.
In your defense, Minho’s impossible not to notice. You catch a glimpse of him – brows furrowed and forehead glistening in sweat – and it’s enough to make you admire him shamelessly from where you’re sitting, homework long forgotten. He dances with Chan for a while, explaining the moves to him and adjusting his shoulders when they’re positioned wrong, and it makes you wish you were in his place right now – having Minho’s fingers touch your skin, his attention set on you and not your godforsaken brother. Then, your eyes follow him as he leaves Chan alone, moving to where his bag lies and taking something out of it.
You can see the muscles on his arm flex as he opens his water bottle, before bringing it to his lips and throwing his head back to drink. Your mouth waters at the sight of his exposed neck and the veins on his fingers that are gripping the bottle tightly. It’s shameful how easy he can get you worked up – a throb forming in between your legs already, despite the action being quite unharmful. To anyone who doesn’t fantasize about him, obviously. Which excludes you.
Your heart gets caught up in your throat when you catch Minho smirking up at you, his eyes looking directly into yours and you’re frozen in place for a second, unsure of what to do with yourself. Finally, you tear your gaze away from him, utterly embarrassed for what seems like the nth time today.
—
Nothing can top the relief you feel when Minho announces he's heading home after spending a good two hours at your and Chan's house. Unfortunately, he also promises to be back tomorrow after your brother’s swimming practice, so that they can perfect the choreography. (Which is, by the way, so unnecessary, because you've seen Minho dance and that choreography needs no more perfecting on his end.) Usually, you wouldn't have minded at all, but after today's humiliating incidents you'd prefer not to face him in the nearest future. But as usual, the world doesn't really listen to your wishes.
Actually, the world must hate you, absolutely fucking despise you, because the next day Minho manages to arrive too early, knocking on the door a whole hour before Chan's practice is supposed to end.
“I’m not interested!” You shout as you hear a fist banging against your door, your first thought being that the person outside is some kind of salesman.
“You’re not interested? Aw, why not?”
You freeze hearing his voice, eyes widening in shock. What. The. Fuck? Why is he here so early? Surely your brother must’ve told him when he’d be home, and you knew Minho wasn’t one to just forget things. Another thing that declared you fucked right now because there was just no way he hadn’t taken pride in the way he caught you staring at him yesterday. But, you had to open the door or you’d never hear the end of it. Besides, Minho already knew you were home since you’d recklessly shouted at him. Shit, you should’ve just stayed quiet. But who knows, maybe you’d gotten lucky and he had actually forgotten when your brother's practice ended, so he’d just leave and come back later.
“My brother’s not home until seven,” You say the moment you open the door, met with his signature smirk and his hands buried in the pockets of his perfectly fitting jeans. “You’re early.”
“Really?” The way he says it makes you feel like it doesn’t really surprise him. His smirk widens as he eyes you up and down, and you feel very exposed as his gaze falls first on your lips and then slides down to your cleavage, where they linger a little too long than they should. “My bad, I thought he said six. Mind if I wait here meanwhile?”
He doesn’t really wait for your response, walking past you and into the house like it’s his own, his shoulder brushing over yours just like yesterday. You roll your eyes at him while closing the door as you see him throw his backpack onto the couch you were peacefully sitting on just a few moments ago. He makes himself at home, turning on the tv and putting his arms behind his neck. You can’t help but notice that he looks hot like this, relaxed and sprawled out on your couch.
But it doesn't matter. He's here for your brother, not you. So you turn your back to him and walk into the kitchen under the excuse of making food, yet in reality, just doing anything so you won't have to look at his stupidly handsome face.
“You do realize Chan’s not gonna be home for another hour, right?” You say as you start cutting up some fruit.
“Yeah, why?” You hear Minho chuckle from the couch, and you can almost feel the way his stare is set on you. “Can’t handle my presence?”
“Didn’t say that. I’m just saying you might get bored.”
You’re so focused on keeping your eyes on the food in front of you that you don’t even notice Minho has walked into the kitchen, before you feel his warm breath fan against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart jumps in your chest and you turn around to face him in reflex. It's embarrassing how loud you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and that sensation is only heightened as he smiles down on you, faces closer to each other than they’ve ever been.
“Do you find this boring?”
His voice is raspy, with a hint of amusement in it as he lets his hand graze your skin when he brushes your hair out of your face. You suck in a breath, silently cursing your heart for almost beating out of your chest at such a small gesture and hoping to god your flustered state went unnoticed by the boy. But is there really a possibility of anything going unnoticed when two people are in such close proximity?
Do you find this boring? Such a stupid question to ask. Listening to your heartbeat would be enough to answer it. Looking into your wide eyes would be enough to answer it. Watching how your body reacts to his touch would be enough to answer it. The answer is out in the open for him to see, and you know he sees it. And surprisingly, it doesn’t make you want to run and hide. Sure, it makes you nervous as fuck – having him look at you like that, so intently, yet so carefully – but it doesn’t make you want to run. If anything, it makes you want to stay.
“No,” You say, uselessly. “I don’t.”
A smile spreads itself across his lips. Not a smirk, a smile. And oh god, do you feel weak in the knees when he looks at you like that. You want to say something more – hear him talk about himself or maybe ask for his number. It doesn’t even matter, really, you just want to hear his voice, and feel his touch like you did a few moments ago. He’s waiting for you to say something, you can see it in the way his eyes are glancing between your eyes and lips, and it makes you wonder whether he’s thinking of kissing you. Or if he’d kiss you if you asked him to.
“I…” You trail off, breath caught up in your throat as Minho leans closer to you, tilting his head to the side slightly. He’s so close that you can smell him now, the scent of his cologne filling your senses, and it makes you feel even more intoxicated with him. You’ve smelt his perfume before as he walked by, but this is different. This time, his face is millimeters away from yours as he licks his lips and you swear he’s doing it on purpose just to set you off. And you have to admit it’s working.
“You…?” His tone is teasing, while his touch is featherlight as he lets his fingers graze your bare shoulder – seemingly innocent, but you know he’s doing it just to see you shiver in excitement. And you do even more so when his hand drops to your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath loudly before you can stop yourself. You can see a small smirk forming on his lips at your actions, and you’re about to say something to defend yourself when you hear the front door open, making you jump slightly.
“I’m home!”
Minho doesn’t even flinch hearing your brother’s voice, his eyelids half closed as his gaze still rests on you, hot breath hitting your lips as he awaits your next move. And it’s half relieved, half frustrated that you turn away from him, walking a couple of feet away so it looks natural. What the hell just happened? You're left to ponder that question as your brother walks into the room and you hear him and Minho talking.
Even as he's speaking with Chan, he doesn't fail to meet your gaze when you let it linger on his frame for a little too long. And it’s in defeat that you realize there are butterflies fluttering in your stomach when he sends you a subtle wink.
—
School is hell, but it’s even worse when you catch yourself staring at your brother’s best friend way too many times. Especially since he seems to catch you doing it, too.
You swear he’s everywhere. In the hallway when you’re walking to class, sitting by a nearby table when you’re in the cafeteria eating lunch and walking out of the building exactly when you’re sitting outside, peacefully reading a book. You just can’t escape him and the amused look he sends you every time he sees your gaze land on his frame.
And while it probably doesn’t even look like he’s paying you any attention to bypassers, you’ve grown to know him enough to tell that it’s not accidentally that he lifts up his shirt to wipe his sweat exactly as you’re walking by the football field. Or maybe it is an accident and you’re just delusional. Either way, it’s embarrassing how something like that is enough to make your face grow hot and turn your gaze anywhere else than him and his stupidly pretty face.
After all that, it’s obvious that what you want the most is to get some peace and finally be able to breathe freely without thinking of Lee Minho. Which is why you head towards one of the less crowded places on campus when your classes finish, sitting down on a bench and taking out your book that you’ve barely begun reading due to all the recent events. However, you’re not able to relish in the silence for too long before you hear a voice behind you, catching you off guard.
“What book are you reading?”
“What?” You ask, turning around to look Minho in the eyes and being met with a hint of curiosity in them.
“I asked you what book you’re reading,” He repeats, leaning his arm on the bench like he didn’t just scare the living shit out of you. “You were so caught up in it that you didn’t even notice me, so it must be good, right?”
“Not really, it’s my chemistry book. Didn't have anything better to do than study anyway.”
You’re kind of surprised when Minho lets out a snort of laughter at your words, and you realize it’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh while talking to you. You could get used to that, actually – hearing him laugh. The way his eyes light up when he does it makes you feel weirdly happy, it’s like he actually enjoys your presence. Oh god, you really hope he does. You really hope that he doesn’t look at you like Chan’s annoying little sister, because that would completely ruin everything.
“Anyway, I came to ask you whether you want to grab a coffee with me,” He says, a smile still planted onto his face. “Pretty sure that's more entertaining than studying for your chemistry exam.”
“Sure,” For a second, your face lights up, but then it falters again. “Not sure Chan would want me there, though. Wouldn’t wanna ruin his time with his friends.”
“I never mentioned anything about Chan, though, did I?”
You open your mouth to reply and then close it again when he pokes your cheek with his finger. It’s so unexpected that your eyes go wide – so wide you’re afraid you might look like a fish or something – but it also doesn’t last long, because one blink of your eyes later his finger is gone and you’re left face to face with the most handsome boy in the world. He’s very close to you – did he lean forward or were just too busy staring at every inch of him to notice that he was this close to you all along?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He tilts his head to the side with a smirk, and you avert your gaze immediately, making him chuckle. What a nuisance, you think to yourself. You want him so bad it hurts. “Come on, let’s go before the high schoolers take all the best spots.”
You must look a little unconvinced, because he soon speaks again. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it doesn’t get boring.”
And he winks – something that makes your heart drop to your stomach and screams at you that this is a bad idea, considering how he’s your brother’s best friend.
But you don’t really get to think that through because suddenly, he’s walking away with his bag thrown over his shoulder, and you pick up your things in an instant and jog up to him, like you weren’t just considering going home a minute ago. You still make an effort to scoff really loudly as you catch up with him just so he doesn’t think that little wink had any impact on you, but he chooses to ignore it, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he crosses the road.
Chan would totally freak out if he saw you right now, you think to yourself, walking into a dimly lit cafe side by side with his best friend. Why exactly are you doing this again? You look at Minho and he flashes you a smile that makes you want to cry into a pillow. Ah. That's why you're doing this.
“I’ll have an americano,” Minho tells the waitress a few minutes later from where you're sitting by a table in the corner of the cafe. “And you?”
The waitress is looking at you expectantly, but your eyes are set on Minho and his t-shirt that looks a little too small and hugs his muscles a little too well. He’s wearing piercings, too – one in his right ear and two in his left. He doesn’t wear them when he dances, so you’ve never really seen him with them on. They suit him. A little too much.
“Iced latte,” You say mindlessly as Minho asks again, and you can see him raise a brow at your lack of responsiveness. The waitress walks away, and before Minho can ask you what you were thinking about, you ask a question to fill the silence. “Don’t you have dancing lessons today?”
Dumb question. You know he doesn’t have any dancing lessons today. And from how he’s looking at you, it’s not hard to tell he knows it’s a stupid question. God, this is like your first time speaking to him one on one and here you are, embarrassing yourself to no end.
“You know I don’t,” One corner of his lips quirk up in amusement. “Me and your brother have the same schedule.”
“How come I need to remember everything about his schedule?” You mumble under your breath, fiddling with your fingers because you’re 99 percent sure Minho now thinks you’re just his best friend’s helpless little sister that has a hopeless crush on him. Which you are. But still. If you appear so nervous all the time you’re never going to get that dick.
Right as you’re about to seduce him with your charms, a waiter gives you your drinks. He’s handsome, with sharp eyes and a kind smile. Probably would have landed a role in a kdrama had he tried. When he flashes his pearl white teeth in your direction, it’s like you can’t hold back from smiling back.
“Here are your drinks.”
He puts them on the table and smiles wider at you, almost completely ignoring Minho. It makes you giggle, and he winks at you in return, but then, as the waiter retracts his hand from the table, he manages to push the teaspoon lying next to Minho’s coffee cup onto the floor by accident. Seeing his sorry expression, you’re quick to squat down on the floor to pick it up, but it seems like he’s got the same plan – your hands touch as you both reach for the fallen spoon.
For a second, you’re waiting for that electric feeling to surge through you and for your whole body to grow hot like it did when you touched Minho’s hand in the bus, but when that sensation doesn’t come, you just smile at the waiter instead and hand him the spoon.
“Thank you,” He smiles and lets his eyes fan over your face and dip down to your body. “Is this your first time coming here? I feel like I would’ve remembered seeing such a pretty girl here before.”
You can tell the waiter’s interested in you, and so, upon noticing Minho’s expressionless gaze from where he’s sitting on his chair, you opt to take this as an opportunity to mess with him a little. Why should you be the only one chasing after him, after all?
“Yeah, it’s my first time,” You blink up at the waiter, letting your fingers trace up his arm until they reach the collar of his shirt. “If it wasn’t, I surely would’ve remembered seeing such a handsome waiter.”
Your eyes meet his and you smile in an overly cute way, letting your finger trail over his jaw before you place it back in your lap. He grins and extends his hand to help you stand up, and you make sure to stand on your tippy toes to press a small kiss to his cheek as a thank you. You can feel Minho’s gaze on you and it’s with great willpower that you hold back the smile threatening to take over your features.
“I finish work in an hour,” It’s the waiter speaking – it’s hard not to look in Minho’s direction, but you hold out, ‘accidentally’ fixing your shirt so more of your cleavage is exposed. And surely, it works, because the waiter’s eyes widen just slightly as they dip down to take in the exposed skin. “Do you want to come over and watch a movie with me?”
You can’t keep yourself from doing it anymore, so you look at Minho – only to be met with his eyebrows raised and head tilted to the side in inquiry. Bingo.
With a sweet smile, you grab at the waiter’s arm. “I’d love to.”
As he walks away, you sit down in front of Minho with a satisfied smile, sipping your drink innocently. And you wait. You wait for three seconds, then four. Seconds turn into a minute, but Minho's still sipping his drink like nothing happened. It’s only when the cup is empty that he looks up at you, licking his lips – which, by the way, makes him look ten times hotter than before, if that’s even possible.
He leans forward and his knee touches yours – whether that is on purpose or not, you don’t know, but it makes you jump up slightly in surprise.
“So, are you proud of yourself?”
He asks this question casually, but the tone of his voice makes your heart beat faster against your chest. You’re not sure what he means or if he’s jealous at all – his eyes hold an unreadable expression and the heat of his leg against your bare thigh from under the table is enough to send your mind into overdrive. It’s safe to say that you’re not able to think straight right now, and his piercing stare doesn’t help much – instead of making you want to concentrate on answering, it makes you want to jump his bones. So, to minimize the rates of embarrassing yourself completely, you opt for a question to answer his question.
“Huh?”
Minho’s lips quirk upwards in a smirk and he shakes his head, smiling to himself for a second. Then, he pulls out his wallet and puts money on the table. He’s getting ready to leave. The moment he gets up to leave, you do the same, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you how his eyes fan down to your legs, even if only for a moment. You quickly make your way to his side and he looks down on you with a hint of amusement in his gaze.
“You really put on a show back there,” He says, finally answering your question. Your heart beats faster at that – so he did notice. Upon seeing your expression, Minho chuckles softly. “Poor guy probably thinks you’re coming over later.”
“What do you mean? I am coming over.”
He stops walking right outside the entrance to the cafe and turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised. The exit doesn’t immediately lead you to the main road, but rather a side alley surrounded by three brick walls and an opening towards the main square that you still haven’t walked through. This means you and him are still in a pretty excluded area – you look around for a second, but the only sign of life nearby is the sound of some people talking inside of the cafe you just left – and, somehow, that makes his gaze feel much harder than it normally would feel as he stares you down.
You’re nervous, that’s for sure, but probably not in the way you should be.
What you should be worried about right now is that you’re in an empty alleyway with your best friend’s brother, who could turn out to be a serial killer or something. (No, he couldn’t – this is Minho we’re talking about. The guy who has three cats and cares for them like they’re his children.) But the only thing you’re thinking about right now is how sharp Minho’s jawline is, and how maybe he’d fuck you against this wall if you asked nicely.
“No, you’re not,” He says and you’re suddenly brought back to reality. You’re about to object to his claim – excuse him, why is he not buying your act? – but before you get to do that, he takes a step forward and backs you against the wall, resting his hand on the brick wall just above your head. “You really think I don’t know you did that to get my attention, kitten?”
Oh. Your hearts speed up to an inhuman pace and you almost forget to breathe for a moment there as you feel his breath on your face, his nose mere centimeters away from your own.
“I didn’t-”
He doesn’t really cut you off, but his fingers ghosting over your jaw are enough to make you stop talking. You feel your heart beating so loudly you’re afraid Minho might hear it when he leans even closer to push your hair away from your face and whisper in your ear.
“You’re a little bit of an attention whore, aren’t you? If you wanted me to fuck you this bad, you could’ve just said so.”
You feel your face heat up in embarrassment – both from how you totally just made a fool out of yourself and from you can feel your panties start to soak through just at his words. Well, maybe not just his words, because the way you can see his arm muscles if you look a little to the left definitely helps. But now you’re just making excuses.
“Don’t worry, it’s kind of cute how much you’re willing to do to get my attention.”
Minho’s eyes fall down to your lips and you swallow hard. Is he going to kiss you right now? His hand moves to stroke your cheek and you close your eyes, awaiting him to connect his lips to yours. It’s like an eternity has passed before you feel his mouth lips against the corner of your mouth – touching you so softly you’re not even sure it really happened before the sound of your phone ringing fills the alleyway and he pulls away.
Fucking phone. You grab it a little too fast, scoffing as you see the caller ID. Of course it’s your fucking brother, who else would manage to call you just when you were kissing Lee fucking Minho?
“What?” You ask probably a little too harshly upon picking up, and you can hear Minho chuckle quietly from where he’s standing.
“Wow, no need to lash out on me like that,” He says in response and you roll your eyes, because clearly, there is a need – one that you don’t get to fulfill exactly because of this goddamn conversation. “Can you come home? Dinner’s ready and mom wants us to eat together for once.”
“I need to come right now? Seriously?” It’s not your intention to come off as whiny, but who can really blame you?
“Yes, seriously,” Chan sighs into the phone. “What are you doing that you can't come?”
That question makes your blood pressure skyrocket. “Nothing. I'm not doing anything at all. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?”
And you hang up without waiting for an answer.
“You should get going,” You hear Minho’s voice and turn around to face him. His hands are in his pockets again and his hair is falling into his forehead. You have an urge to walk over to him and push the hair away from his face, but you resist it. “Wouldn’t wanna upset your brother too much. Considering you’re already hitting on his best friend.”
The smirk he sends you makes your heart do a dozen flips inside of your chest.
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
And you start the walk home with a smile tugging at your lips and butterflies swarming in your stomach.
—
“Minho is what?” You almost scream at your brother when he tells you his plans in a casual tone – like he isn’t ruining your life.
“Sleeping over,” Chan repeats – like you asked him because you didn’t hear – raising a brow in confusion. “I don’t see how that’s a problem? We won’t bother you, I swear.”
Well, maybe you won’t, but Minho will, you think to yourself. You’re completely certain that he’ll do everything in his power to tease you somehow, especially after that day at the cafe… But you're only complaining for show, because really, you don't mind him bothering you. At all. If anyone were listening to your heartbeat right now, they’d have no problem in confirming that your heart speeds up at the mere thought of spending time with Lee Minho.
“Okay, then,” You sigh. “When is he coming?”
You’re totally not asking so you can run back to your room and only appear after Minho’s arrived so it doesn’t look like you’ve been waiting for him. Nope. You’d never go that far just for a boy you’re not even supposed to like. Like, how stupid would that be?
“He’s coming about…” Chan pauses as the doorbell rings and your whole body tenses up. “Now.”
You’re about to run up the stairs to your room and hide, but, instead of being a normal human being and waiting for someone to open the door, Minho lets himself in and walks into the house before you can even take a step.
He looks hot (as always), with his hair and jacket wet – is it raining? you didn’t even know – and blue jeans around his hips. It should be illegal to look this good. He’s holding a bag in one hand, brushing his hair away from his face with the other, and you don’t even realize you’re staring until he rests his eyes on you and flashes you a smile that has you weak in the knees.
“Hey,” He says in your direction, letting his fingers brush over your hand as he walks inside.
Your eyes drift to the right to see whether Chan reacts to how his best friend is paying you attention all of a sudden, but even if he did notice anything, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he takes Minho’s bag and tells him to follow him upstairs.
“I’ll just get some water first,” Minho replies and your brother nods, walking off to his room, leaving you alone with his best friend who turns his attention to you immediately. “You’re not gonna say hi?”
“Hi,” Somehow, even greeting him makes your stomach do a hundred flips, and the way he's looking at you doesn't help, either. His eyes trail up and down your body, sending shivers down your spine, before he meets your stare again. “Why are you staying here all of a sudden? You've known my brother for a few years, but you've never slept over before.”
It's true what you're saying – he's never stayed past midnight, and even those times were rare. Your statement doesn’t surprise Minho, it seems, because he only tilts his head to the side with a smile.
“Really? I haven't?”
The way he says it makes you certain he’s aware of it already, but you nod anyway. “You told Chan there's no point in sleeping over when you can just meet up early the next day.”
He takes a step in your direction and you swear your heart could beat out of your chest at this rate. Damn Minho and his ability to always catch you off guard… Though maybe the crush you have on him also plays a small part in how you react to every bit of attention he shows you. His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and instead of retracting it, he lets it rest against your cheek.
His lips quirk upwards in a soft smirk. “Hmm, it's almost as if someone made me change my mind.”
You’re about to respond – actually, correction, you’re about to grab his collar and kiss him until you can’t breathe – but then Chan’s voice comes from above and makes you jump in surprise.
“You coming, bro?”
Fuck. Him. Why does he always have to ruin the moment? Upon seeing your annoyed expression, Minho chuckles and you only glare at him in response – why is he so calm when you’re dying to feel his skin on yours?
“Yeah, coming!” He shouts to your brother, before looking at you again with a wide grin. “Don’t be so impatient, we have plenty of time, remember?”
And just like that, he leaves for Chan’s room, letting the image of his smile make itself at home inside of your head. But really, you wish it didn’t, because now you’re starting to think this little crush might be more than just that.
—
The next few hours pass by rather normally.
Chan and Minho stay in your brother’s room, and you occupy the living room, watching K-dramas and eating noodles. It’s a solid distraction from the fact that Minho’s here – actually, after a while you’ve practically forgotten about him, more focused on the fact that you need to use the bathroom exactly when the most exciting part of the episode is playing. It seems fate hasn’t really been on your side lately.
Resigned, you pause the TV and head for the bathroom upstairs (the one downstairs smells like the way-too-big amount of cologne your brother sprays on every morning and it makes you want to puke), because really, what else can you do? When you reach the last steps, you can hear music flowing through the speakers in Chan’s room, meaning they’re both in there still. Great, you won’t have to worry about the fact that your hair’s a mess from lying down on the couch.
At least that's what you think as you open the door to the bathroom, only for your eyes to widen when they land on Minho’s bare chest.
It takes your brain approximately five seconds to realize what is going on – how you just walked in on Lee Minho changing. Your words get lost in your throat as you take in the sight in front of you – Minho’s raised brows, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his muscles on display for you to see, making it impossible to look away. Not that you want to. He looks so hot that it has heat forming between your thighs, and you wish he would stop teasing you and make your dreams of him fucking you come true instead.
“The way you’re looking at me is making me think you walked in here on purpose, kitten.”
“What?” You shake your head vigorously, feeling your face heat up at Minho’s words. “No, I just- I didn’t know you were here and-”
“I’m just joking,” He cuts you off with a smile. You can’t help but smile, too, when he walks over to you and pulls you closer by your shoulders, leaning his face down so your noses touch. “Relax.”
And, weirdly enough, you do. Even with his mouth mere millimeters away from yours, you don’t feel like running away. You let yourself admire him for a little longer, and use Chan being busy in his room as an excuse to do so. His lips are just barely parted, eyes fully open as they reflect the light above his head, and you really want to kiss him.
“Can I kiss you?” The question slips past your lips before you can even think twice about it.
It takes him a while to answer – his gaze drops to your lips before he looks into your eyes again, and you swear your whole body is on fire when his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Gently. Softly. It’s different than earlier, the way he’s looking at you. Someone looking at the scene from outside, someone that didn’t know Lee Minho, might’ve mistaken his gaze for a sense of surprise or nervousness, but when you looked at him and he looked at you, it was obvious he wanted to kiss you just as badly as you wanted to kiss him.
“Yeah,” He replies finally.
Your heart jumps at that, and while you’re busy figuring out how to calm down and actually kiss him like you had intended, Minho takes the matter into his own hands. Literally.
His fingers grab at your jaw as he leans down and connects his lips to yours – fully, this time, nowhere near as gently as he did in front of the cafe. You’re unable to move at first, eyes closed as you focus on the feeling of his mouth moving against your own. He pulls you flush against his body, hand grabbing at your hip and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer – until you feel the warmth from his chest as you’re pressed up against it.
Your hands wander down to his stomach and trace his muscles, mouth parting in a soft smile when he shivers. Minho takes that as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, groaning quietly as he gets lost in the taste of you – and at the same time making you think that sound might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard.
He pulls away to breathe, eyes scanning your face – shimmering in the light. But that only lasts a short moment, before he kisses you again, hands on your waist as he pushes you against the door to the bathroom. Faintly, you can hear the music grow louder from Chan's room, but it doesn't matter, none of it does, because you're here, kissing Lee Minho like your life depends on it. And to some degree, you suppose it does.
Minho’s hands move from your waist to slip under your shirt and you shiver when his fingers brush over your stomach – it's the first time he's touching you like this and it has your whole mind going into overdrive. He must notice the effect he has on you because you hear him chuckle quietly against your neck when his lips move to suck marks into the skin right below your ear. You bury your hands in his hair and tug on it when his tongue swipes over the spots that have you shivering in delight.
“Shit, want you so bad, kitten,” Minho purrs against your cheek before he pulls away, and his words make the heat between your legs even more unbearable.
His eyes are darkened, hands moving a little lower and grazing your hip. God, he really knows how to drive you crazy. The corners of his lips quirk upwards when you shiver, his smirk showing he's satisfied with the effect he has on you. And there's not really anything you can do to prove him wrong because you're going crazy with every little touch of his.
You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him again, but as soon as his lips touch yours, you hear footsteps shuffling and someone knocks on the door. It takes all of your strength not to let out a startled gasp when Chan speaks up.
“Minho, bro, you done there?”
You clasp your hand over your mouth, eyes widened, but Minho seems totally unfazed, even letting out a small chuckle that earns him a push when he sees your expression.
“Yeah, I'll be out in a minute,” He says and you hear Chan walk off, letting you breathe.
“What are you so nervous about?” Minho asks and you glare at him.
“Oh, I don't know, maybe I'm scared my brother will catch me making out with his best friend in the bathroom?”
He smiles and suddenly, you're not annoyed anymore. Not even when he walks away from you to get his clothes, though that isn't the ideal turn of events. If it were up to you, you would sit with him in this bathroom for the remainder of the day, letting him fluster and tease you all he wants.
“You don’t have to ask for permission to kiss me, by the way,” His voice brings you back to reality, and you observe as he puts his shirt on, just a tad bit too intently watching the way his abdominal muscles flex as he does so. “Just so you know.”
“For future reference?” You can’t hold back the smile that creeps onto your face, and your heart skips a beat when he mirrors your expression. He grabs the clothes he changed out of and slings them over his shoulder as he walks over to you and rests his forehead against yours.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Your breath speeds up as his hand slips under your shirt again, fingers stroking your skin softly. His eyes are hooded, lips glistening as he licks them, and then, suddenly, he’s leaning in and his lips just barely touch yours. It’s short, and delicate, you don’t even get to close your eyes before the sensation is gone and his hand is on the doorknob. Right, he needs to leave, or it’s going to raise suspicions.
“See you later, kitten,” He says and you pout, making him poke your cheek with his finger. “Don’t miss me too much.”
“Why would I miss you?”
He only chuckles in response and leaves with a wink sent your way. One that has butterflies swarming in your stomach as you wait in the bathroom for a couple minutes. How annoying of him to act like that. Guess there’s no way to hide your crush on him anymore. Though you suppose pretending like you weren’t dreaming about him touching you left the picture the moment you flirted with that waiter to make him jealous. Or, maybe, it was already out of the picture that day he came over too early and you felt yourself melt under his gaze.
Or maybe it was all over for you when he arrived today and you realized that you were in too deep. Realized that your eyes don’t only widen when you see Minho’s abs, but also when you see his eyes, his hair, his smile. Realized you like watching him dance not because he looks hot, but because he looks happy.
Realized you’re in love with Lee Minho, and there’s no turning back.
—
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
Minho’s voice makes you jump from where you're half-sitting, half-lying on the couch, watching some drama wrapped up in a blanket. It's way past midnight, but you're not feeling sleepy at all – whether that is because of the kdrama or the fact that Minho is staying over at your house, you're not sure, though the latter seems more likely.
“I could ask you the same thing,” You say as he walks closer, your eyes lingering on his sweats and shirt a little too long for it to be considered appropriate. “Are you trying to sneak out or something?”
“Why would I sneak out? Am I being held hostage?”
“You came here out of free will, so no,” You smile at him and he chuckles, eyes crinkling. It’s dark, and his face is partially hidden, much to your distaste, so you pat the spot next to you, looking at him expectantly. “Come sit.”
He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and for a moment, you’re scared he won’t sit down. But then he plops down on your left, hand resting on your thigh that is covered with the blanket and making your heart bang against your chest. You didn’t expect him to sit this close to you, and you’re certain it’s showing from the way Minho smirks at you when you meet his gaze. In response you scoff – as if that’s going to hide the way your whole body is heating up – and let your head fall down on his shoulder. When you focus on the tv again, the drama you were watching suddenly doesn’t seem very entertaining anymore. Not to mention the main lead suddenly doesn’t seem handsome at all.
Minho doesn’t say anything for a while, and so you try to convince yourself this is just a normal movie night with one of your friends. Except your friends don’t smell like cologne for men, nor do their hands rest on your thigh when you watch a movie. And, most importantly, your friends don’t make your heart beat faster and your legs turn to jelly without even saying a word. It’s alright, though, at least that’s what you tell yourself when you hear Minho shuffling next to you, blood pressure skyrocketing from this mere reminder of his presence.
Though that is in no way comparable to how you jump in surprise when Minho’s hand slips under your blanket instead, brushing over your bare thigh. Suddenly, you’ve forgotten how to think, your skin burning from the light touch. At least until Minho retracts his hand from your body with a worried look on his face.
“Are you oka-”
You don’t let him finish, grabbing his hand and placing it back on your thigh with a pout. He looks at you for a moment and then his face contorts into that ridiculously hot smirk of his as he squeezes your thigh. You try your best to muffle the whimper that’s threatening to slip past your lips, but that only results in some kind of choked sound leaving your mouth – making Minho’s smile widen in amusement.
“Oh, so you did miss me,” He says and you’re about to protest, but he leans forward and snuggles his head into the crook of your neck, spreading goosebumps all over your skin when he murmurs against it. “Didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” You mumble when his lips just barely brush over your neck, already making it hard to focus on the TV screen in front of you.
Minho’s hand squeezes your thigh again as he drags his nose up to your jaw and presses a soft kiss to your skin. You shiver in anticipation, eyes fighting to stay open. There’s not much fighting left to do, though, because your gaze is already unfocused and when Minho presses another kiss against your neck, you lean your head to the side to grant him better access without thinking twice about it. Upon feeling Minho’s smile against your skin when he moves further down your neck you think that maybe you shouldn’t have given in so easily.
Those thoughts vanish from your mind as quickly as they came when he moves his hand further up your thigh – your skin tingling where he touches you, chest heaving with each breath as your panties slowly start to soak through. His lips find that one spot that makes you press your thighs together and sucks marks into it, fingers moving in circles that, annoyingly enough, don't move towards the spot you need them to be.
“What was that?”
He’s referring to how you didn’t answer his question, you realize a few seconds later than you probably should have. If he’s making you forget how to think by just kissing you, how will you feel when he fucks you? Your pussy throbs with excitement at the very thought of that – at the thought of Minho’s cock deep inside of you, bending you over every surface.
“Fuck,” You whine as his hand plays with the hem of your shorts. “Yes, I missed you, Minho. Missed you so much.”
“Yeah?” His lips ghost over yours as he pulls your shorts down and you help him discard them somewhere on the floor. You can see how his eyes drop down to look at your legs that you've already spread for him, and when his hand rests on the edge of your panties, you think you're going to go crazy if he doesn't fuck you soon. “I missed you, too, kitten, couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Please, Minho,” You beg him shamelessly. “Want you so, so bad.”
His fingers stop fiddling with your underwear and move further down instead, brushing over the thin fabric covering your cunt. You want to rub your thighs together to ease the heat between your legs, but his other hand resting on your thigh doesn’t let you, so you settle on looking at him with pleading eyes instead.
“I know you do,” He says, pushing his knuckles against your clothed clit, and you let out a choked whimper, your whole body jolting forward to meet his hand. He tuts disapprovingly and delivers a small slap to your throbbing cunt that makes you moan a little too loud. Your heart is hammering against your chest, and it only heightens when Minho’s fingers start rubbing circles into your panties that are soaking wet. “That’s why you were acting like a slut earlier, right? Flirting with that guy. But he doesn’t make you this wet, does he?”
You shake your head vigorously, but Minho tilts your chin upwards, raising his eyebrows. Urging you to answer verbally, like your mind isn't already going hazy just from how he's rubbing your panties against your pussy.
“No,” You manage to mumble.
“No?”
You shake your head again and in return, Minho presses his finger against your clit, eliciting a soft whimper from you. His hand holds your hips down when you try to lift them off the couch, but he rubs against you again, watching with a smile as you squirm under his touch. He's barely giving you anything and yet you're going crazy, your arousal dripping through your panties and onto his hand.
“Minho, please,” You whine at him, your nails digging into his thigh.
Chuckling, he grabs at your waist and helps you lie down against the arm of the couch so you’re looking up at him from below. He slips his hand into your panties without warning, letting his fingers run through your folds experimentally, the small touch making you shiver. He finds your clit and you let out a soft moan when he rubs circles against it, his other hand leaving your hips to slip under your shirt and grab at your tits. Your back arches, pushing against his hand when his fingers move quicker on your pussy.
“More, please” You whimper in a tone so desperate it makes Minho’s cock strain against his pants.
“More?” He asks mockingly. “God, you’re such a fucking slut. Have my fingers on your pussy and you’re still not satisfied?”
His words make you clench around nothing, a whimper leaving your lips as you buck your hips into his hand. For a moment you’re afraid he’ll pull away or tease you some more, but to your surprise, it seems his patience has worn thin, because he slips a finger into your cunt, curling it and making you let out a choked sob instantly. The corners of his lips lift up in a smirk, but you’re in no state to comment on it when he adds another finger, stretching you out and making every word you’d intended to utter die down in your throat. You’re already feeling full, thoughts all over the place, body shivering in delight as Minho’s fingers tease your nipples.
When he starts pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out small whimpers of his name, trying your hardest to bite back your moans so nobody hears.
That task becomes even more difficult when his thumb finds your clit and rubs calculated circles into it, your cunt clenching around his fingers with each thrust. You’re embarrassingly wet, leaking onto his hand, and embarrassingly close to cumming when you tear your eyes away from his hand and look at his face – eyebrows furrowed in concentration, arm muscles flexed right in front of your face. He must notice you’re looking at him, because his gaze moves to yours and he smirks upon seeing your expression, pumping his fingers into you fast enough to make your thighs shake and your back to arch.
“Minho, I-” You’re cut off when he pinches your clit lightly, making you shiver from underneath him. “Gonna cum.”
But you don’t get to fulfill that promise as Minho abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, paying no mind to the fact that you’re seconds away from reaching your orgasm. You look at him with wide eyes, chest heaving as you whine a small ‘no, please’, reaching for his arm. But he doesn’t let you rab it, pulling away with a condescending smile on his face and you think you might cry if he doesn’t put his fingers back where they belong.
“You want to cum?” He asks mockingly, looking down on you and you nod eagerly. “Hmm, I don’t know if you deserve it, kitten. After that shit you pulled at the cafe just to get my attention? Greedy little sluts like you don’t deserve to cum.”
“I’m sorry,” You sob as he rubs your clit agonizingly slowly. “I’m so sorry, Minho, just please–”
“You’re sorry?” He tilts his head to the side, retracting his hand from your pussy. “That’s the thing, though, I don’t think you are. I think,” He pauses for a moment, only to push his fingers into you again. You moan when he hits that sweet spot of yours repeatedly, bringing you unbearably close to your orgasm with each push. “You’re just a dumb slut that would do anything to have her pussy stuffed. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” You breathe out, a familiar feeling of pleasure stirring up in your stomach when Minho’s other hand comes up to play with your tits, the sound of your pussy squelching with each of his movements filling the room. “Please don’t stop, Minho, please.”
There’s no way you’re going to be able to hold back from cumming, it’s evident from the way you clench and unclench around Minho’s fingers like crazy. It doesn’t make him slow his movements, though – actually it makes him fuck you harder, fingers curling inside of you and palm of his hand pressing down on your clit.
It takes a few more skilled movements of his hand before you’re reaching your high, legs shaking as you moan his name – probably a little too loudly, but in your blissful state you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when his fingers fuck you through it, his lips on yours the second you’ve calmed down enough to breathe properly. He kisses you roughly, but not messily, and his arm lifts your back off of the couch and presses you against him.
He’s still fully clothed, you realize, and your hands find their way to the hem of his shirt. You take it off of him, happy he doesn’t protest, pulling away from the kiss to admire the muscles you’ve only seen an outline of during his dance practices. And despite the fact you just came, you can feel another pool of arousal forming between your thighs when you do so.
“You’re staring, kitten,” He comments, and you turn your gaze away, feeling your face heat up. It's not your fault he's hot, after all. You hear him scoff and then he tilts your chin up to look at him again. “Didn’t tell you to look away, though, did I?”
You decide to ignore him and his annoyingly sexy smirk completely, and focus on unzipping his pants instead. He swats your hand away when you try to pull them down his legs and stands up from the couch, taking them off together with his boxers. Your eyes go wide when his cock stands proudly against his lower stomach.
The sight of him is enough to make your mouth water, hands already reaching out to touch him from where you’re sitting on the couch. He only laughs, though, planting your hands at your sides as he kisses you, tongue swiping across your lower lip. You whine into his mouth at the fact that you can’t touch him, but he disregards it, pulling you closer so your nipples graze his chest – making you shiver. Maybe you would’ve believed this was an accident not meant to make your pussy grow wetter if it wasn’t for how he pushes his thigh between your legs right afterwards, rubbing it exactly against your clit so you let out a broken whimper.
If he wants to drive you crazy, he’s definitely succeeding.
“Minho, I–” You close your eyes when he grabs you by your hips, dragging your folds across his thigh like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Like he’s not making your whole head spin by just tightening his leg muscles.
“You…?” He’s thoroughly enjoying this, it’s evident in the way he’s smiling condescendingly, hands holding down your hips so you can’t get rid of the dizziness that comes with your pussy being pressed against his flexed thigh. “Come on, surely you can form words, right? Or have you gone completely dumb just from sitting on my thigh?”
“N-no,” You protest – albeit not very convincingly since you’re basically whimpering, holding onto his biceps for dear life. “I– Please, fuck me, Min. Need it so bad, please.”
A sound dangerously close to a growl escapes him at your words and before you know it, he’s turned you around. You’re on all fours now, his bare cock brushing against the curve of your ass as he leans forward so his chest touches your back. He helps you position your hands on the arm of the couch– which you’re thankful for because now you have something to grip onto when his hand moves lower to squeeze your tits. It’s driving you crazy how long it takes for him to position himself at your entrance, so you push your hips backwards to meet his, earning yourself a small groan from him as he spreads your legs.
“You’re so fucking needy,” He purrs, dragging his cock across your folds and watching as you push your hips back, as if to urge him to fuck you already. Somewhere along the way, when his dick is coated with your arousal, he complies and starts pushing into you – your eyes rolling to the back of your head already as the tip slips past your walls.
He pushes in further, your head spinning as you feel him fill you up. It’s too much and too little at the same time – you want him to move, to make you see stars, but you’re partially already seeing them when his cock is halfway inside of your pussy. Your fingers grab at the couch as he bottoms out, his dick . You hear Minho chuckle, or maybe he’s saying something, you can’t tell, all too focused on the feeling of starting to rock his hips into yours slowly, his cock sliding against your walls and brushing against your clit in a way that makes you moan.
“You’ve wanted this for a long time, haven’t you?” His mouth touches your ear as he speaks, and when you nod, he rewards you with thrusting into you a little harder. Your cunt clenches around him like crazy, and he presses his fingers into your hips. “Staring at me when you thought I wouldn’t notice, always wearing those short skirts around me. Acting like a slut just to get your pussy stuffed with my cock.”
You whimper at his words, clamping down on his length in response. “That’s not what–”
“That’s not what you wanted?” You can’t see him, but you can imagine his head tilted to the side, the condescending look that gets you embarrassingly wet in his eyes. That thought only makes you tighten around him again and you can hear the grin in his voice as he speaks again. “Your pussy doesn’t seem to agree, though, kitten. Seeing how it’s begging me to fuck you harder.”
He doesn’t really leave you any room to respond as he drives his cock deeper into you, your whole body falling forward with his movement, mouth hanging open as you whimper. You half-expect him to take it slow and tease you some more, but it seems he’s grown tired of that, because the next thing you know he’s lifting your leg to the side to get better access, thrusting so deep inside of you that your vision goes blurry. He’s testing the waters, but as soon as he hears you whimper his name and beg for more, he doesn’t hold back, letting his hands draw your hips back just when he draws his hips forward.
“Fuck, Min–” Your jaw goes slack as his hand comes up to slap your tits, other arm busy keeping your leg up so he can fuck into you at a deeper angle.
“Hmm?” He hums carelessly, finger brushing against your nipple as he pumps his cock into you faster, your moans getting louder and arms starting to shake. And if it wasn’t hard enough for you to keep yourself up while he’s fucking you, Minho decides to make it even more difficult by dropping his hand to your clit, rubbing small circles into it.
If you were having a hard time forming words earlier, you are incapable of it by now. You try to muffle your moans, but when Minho finds that one spot that makes your toes curl and starts hitting it repeatedly with his cock, you can’t even bring yourself to care if anyone hears you. He’s reaching farther than your fingers – or anyone else’s, for that matter – have ever reached, and you’re almost entirely sure you can feel him in your stomach when he pushes you against him to reach even deeper.
“Min, feels so–” You’re struggling to sort out your thoughts enough to form a coherent sentence, and his hand moving quicker on your clit doesn’t exactly solve that problem. “So good.”
“Yeah? You’re such a slut for my cock, taking everything I give you,” He lands a slap on your ass as if to punctuate his words, and you clench around him in response, moans turning into whimpers and sobs that are way too loud. Minho notices, and lets go of your clit to push his fingers into your mouth, successfully muffling the sounds you’re making. You moan around them, and he groans into your ear as you suck on them diligently. “Such a good girl when you’ve gone too dumb to act like a fucking brat.”
His words only make your pussy clamp down on his cock again, a feeling of bliss stirring up in your stomach as you’re pushed closer to the edge with each sharp thrust of his hips. Minho doesn’t miss the way you’re tightening around him like crazy, drooling on his fingers and going completely silent except for the broken whimpers of his name that leave your mouth.
“Yeah? You like being my good girl?”
At first you don’t think he wants you to reply, so you only push your hips into his cock in response and take his fingers deeper into your mouth. But then he removes his digits from your lips, and you can vaguely hear him lick them clean off your spit before his hand grabs at your hair and tugs lightly, urging you to say something.
“Yes, fuck,” He lets go of you and lets you sink down on the couch, your sobs muffled against the pillows as you beg him. “More, please, Minho, I’m gonna cum.”
“Yeah, me too,” He groans into your ear, fingers playing with your clit once again. “You gonna let me cum inside, kitten? Stuff your pussy full of my cum?”
“Yeah,” You sob, nails digging into the couch.
“Good girl.”
Minho lands a slap on your clit and it sends you over the edge, your cunt clenching around him uncontrollably. He cums after less than five seconds, letting out the hottest groan you’ve ever heard in your life as his cum fills you up. You swear the feeling of his load coating your walls almost makes you want to go for another round, but as the post-orgasm bliss fades and your head clears, you realize you’re way too exhausted for that.
You whine when Minho pulls out of you and he chuckles, pulling you into his arms the moment he lies down.
“You did so well, baby,” He whispers and you hum in appreciation, pressing your face between his bicep and chest. You feel him pull a blanket over you before his lips press against your forehead in a soft kiss. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” You say and kiss his collarbone.
About fifteen minutes pass in silence before he speaks again.
“I want you.”
His voice catches you a little off guard, eyes fluttering open only to meet his gaze. After having tried to fall asleep it feels weird to hear a sound right next to your ear. Besides, you were certain he'd already fallen asleep, but it seems he's more awake than you are.
It takes a second for your sleepy brain to register his words and when you do, your eyes widen a little and you laugh nervously.
“Again?”
“Not like that,” He chuckles lowly upon seeing your expression – a sound you want to bottle up and listen to every night from now on. The smile slowly fades from his face as he cups your cheek and you’re left admiring his face, waiting for him to say something more. And when he finally does, you swear his voice shivers a little. “I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend.”
Oh, your heart. Your poor heart. You’re afraid it won’t last very long if you do say yes and date Lee Minho, considering it’s about to jump out from your chest at the very question. Trying to calm yourself down, you almost don’t notice the way Minho bites his lips nervously as he waits for you to respond. Almost.
“Okay,” You say finally, trying to sound as calm as possible and failing miserably. The excitement is too evident in your voice, but at least it makes Minho smile from where he’s lying across from you, his thumb stroking your lower lip.
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” You grin, too. “Let’s date.”
“Okay,” Minho presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms. He smells like his shampoo and a hint of sex. He smells like home. “Goodnight, girlfriend.”
You don't think you’ve ever smiled this wide.
“Goodnight, boyfriend.”
—
“Syrup?”
“Yes, please.”
You’re currently sitting by the dining table, chin resting on your hand as you observe Minho scurrying around the kitchen, making breakfast. He’s been up for an hour at least, judging from the amount of pancakes on your plate and his hair that frames his face so nicely there’s just no way he woke up like that. Chan’s upstairs (which you thank god for because when you walked into the kitchen roughly ten minutes ago, the first thing you did was pull Minho in for a kiss) letting you admire Minho in silence. And, truthfully, you can’t fight back the smile that appears when you think of the fact that he's making breakfast for you. That he’s your boyfriend.
“What are you thinking about?” He asks, pouring syrup over your pancakes, and you know he’s already figured out the answer.
“Definitely not you,” You reply and he rolls his eyes, closing his fingers around your chin as he tilts it upwards.
“Brat.”
You grin. “You like it.”
“Not when I can’t fuck your brains out, I don’t.”
You’re about to respond, but then you hear someone walk down the stairs and Minho lets go of your jaw, turning back to his pancakes.
“Good morning,” Chan says, and you sigh, making Minho sport a smirk you only catch a glimpse of when he places some pancakes on your brother’s plate. “Oh, you made pancakes.”
Yeah, not for you, though, you think to yourself. Chan catches your gaze as you glare at him and raises a brow. You ignore him and eat your pancakes, only subtly looking at Minho from time to time. After ten minutes. give or take, he’s cleaned the dishes and practically the whole kitchen, the veins on his arms making it very hard for you to focus on anything else when he rolls up his sleeves.
“I need to get going,” He says after that and sends you the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. You pout at that and he pokes your cheek with his finger in response. Something that makes your eyes widen ever so slightly, because your brother is in the same room as you two. “I’ll see you around, Chan.”
Chan nods and Minho leaves, and you’re left sitting in silence, already fishing out your phone to text your boyfriend and complain about how he left way too early.
“You like Minho,” The statement slipping past your brother’s lips makes your head snap up in shock, eyes wide open. You open your mouth to say something, but he doesn’t let you. “And he likes you.”
It’s not a question, so you don’t reply.
“He told me about it, you know. We were talking about some dumb shit in my room yesterday, I don’t even remember what, and then all of a sudden he’s telling me he’s in love with you. Can you imagine?”
Your heart stops at that. Minho told Chan about you? Told him that he’s in love with you? You have to work really hard to keep a smile from forming at your lips when you think of him telling your brother that he wants to date you.
“And what did you do?”
“I wanted to beat him up first,” Chan admits, and his smile makes your heart loosen up a little. “But then I thought about it, and he’s a really good guy. He deserves to be happy. And so do you. And you look really goddamn happy to me. Even happier than when I took you to Disneyland, and while that’s actually kind of mean, I’m still happy for you.”
It’s like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. A heavy one at that. You think you might just start crying from happiness any second.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You hug him tightly, jumping up and down before pulling away with the biggest grin on your face.
“No need to thank me. Just use protection, okay?” He sends you a stern look, and you nod eagerly, not really listening to what he’s saying. “And no fucking in this house.”
Oh. Oh.
“Right, uh,” You smile nervously, and he raises a brow, when you walk closer to the door. Shit, you’re so screwed.
“Maybe you should’ve established these rules a little sooner.”
And with those words, you run off – partly because you’re afraid Chan might kill you, but mostly because you’re ready to jump Minho’s bones after what you hear from your brother. What you don’t expect is for him to stand right outside the door as you sling it open – hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.
“You guys done talking?”
You don’t respond, just look at him. Like, really look at him. His eyes, his hair, his mouth, his smile. You take it all in like it’s the first time seeing him – though it’s not, because you’ve looked at him like this plenty of times, felt those butterflies in your stomach as your heart beats against your chest, lips itching to meet his own. Only this is the first time your mind manages to put those feelings into words, and although it’s a tad bit scary, it makes you happy. He makes you happy.
“Asshole,” You huff in his direction, but he can’t take you seriously, not when you’re just barely keeping yourself from grinning. “You could’ve told me you were going to talk to him.”
“Then you would’ve freaked out,” He says, pulling you closer by your waist, face leaning down so he can press his forehead to yours. “But look at you now, you’re so in love with me.”
A second passes. Then two. Ten seconds, twenty seconds. You realize you could watch him like this forever.
“You know what? You might just be right. Maybe I am in love with you.”
His lips quirk up in a smile.
“Good. Because I’m in love with you, too.”
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#lee know smut#lee minho smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#stray kids headcanons
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