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#you can't see it but he still has a flip phone
doopcity · 30 days
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Brenn is off to work wherever job it is that he works
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dylanconrique · 1 year
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if they pull a sitch where either tim or lucy are waiting on the other at the restaurant they agreed to meet at thinking they've been stood up when in reality their bleeding out and hanging on by a thread i will seriously douse myself in gasoline and set myself on fire.
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sukunasteeth · 13 days
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Sukuna has never said no to you.
It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 
And you were curious how far you could go with it.
The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.
You were starting to change that.
"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.
"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.
"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 
And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.
"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 
You blink at him in surprise.
"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 
Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 
You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 
Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"
"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."
He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.
"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."
You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.
Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.
It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.
You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.
You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.
He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"
"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"
Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.
It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 
He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"
You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.
"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 
"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."
You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.
"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."
You can’t say no. 
At least it was mutual.
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bi-writes · 12 days
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his phone is ringing. he's startled, because no one calls him. he doesn't think anyone even has his number. when he flips it over, it's just a mess of digits, but the area code is familiar. (18+, kinda dark, mw3 spoilers)
he's curious. too curious. he has to answer it, even if he knows he won't respond. he needs to hear someone's voice because the ones in his head are clawing at the inside of his skull, and he needs to ward them off, even if just for a minute.
he picks it up. and he waits for the greeting.
"h...h-hello?"
it's a soft voice. a woman's voice. he frowns, but he says nothing. there's a gentle sniffle on the other end, and then she talks again, a bit shakier this time.
"h-he...he said you might be like this," she whispers. "said...said you might not talk. but...he said you would answer. said you'd always answer."
his head snaps up. suddenly, he's sitting up straight, at attention, and he squeezes his free hand into a fist and nearly punctures the skin with his blunt fingernails. something sharp hits his chest, and his heart drops into his stomach. he tastes acid.
i guess he was right all along. johnny had a bird. and he left her behind, too.
"i-i...i can't--" you stutter, sucking in a shaking breath, and ghost grunts, biting his tongue, wanting to taste blood. every time he thinks he has found his center, something throws him off. the jingle of his dog tags in the bedside table's drawer. the flash of blue in someone's eyes only to realize it isn't him, he's fucking gone, he's dead and so am i.
the sound of his bonnie lass, soft and sweet as she cries into the phone.
the line cuts. you drop the phone, covering your face with your hands, and you sob into your palms. you haven't moved from this place on your couch. everything reminds you of something that once was, and when you found the number on the back of a worn picture tucked neatly into his bible, you called because he told you if you needed him, he would answer.
it's past midnight when the door opens. you're still in the same place, strewn about the cushions where you've been for days, you think. you turn your head, and he nearly has to duck his head to come into your space. when he steps into the moonlight, you see the skeleton mouth of his mask, and you just blink, watching him come closer.
johnny always told you that if something happened, ghost, simon, whatever the fuck he would be calling himself when he would inevitably show up, that he would support you. but you didn't know how. you didn't think to ask, because johnny was all smiles and warm glows, and ghost is a dark cloud that threatens what grows.
but johnny was right.
he supports you when you climb up over him, settling down with your thighs around his head. he supports you when you bend, dragging your warm cunt over the flat of his tongue and chasing the high that you've missed for so long. and he supports you when you cum, scarred cheeks hollowing as he sucks at the skin of your thighs, following the trails of slick that drip from you, letting it guide him right back to where he belongs, inside of you, around you, making you forget what's missing.
yeah. johnny's always right.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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Amends, Simon learns, are harder to make than he thought. 
At first, he tries to catch you in the hallway, or in the lobby of the building. It’s started to get cold, and you’re not out on your balcony much, so he resorts to sulking around like building like a ghost, miserable and downright creepy, waiting. Watching. 
He begins to memorize your routine. It's not intentional, just a hazard of his profession, but he can't help but work everything you do into a schedule that looms at the back of his mind. What time Emma wakes up, what time you usually take her somewhere with you on your lunch, what time the sound of your dryer buzzes to signal it's cycle complete, what time you turn the TV off and the lights go out for bed. Knowing your schedule so well relaxes him, makes him feel reassured, and he waits for every part of it with bated breath, ensuring you're home and safe with each mental check in.
He tries to sync with you, run into you in the hall or outside the building somewhere, but you're elusive, and at night, before he falls asleep, he resorts to daydreaming about a future where he didn't screw everything up, and you already lived with him. Where you shared a bed with him, where Emmaline slept in her room down the hall. Where he has his girls under one roof with him, his roof, safe and tucked away from the rest of world. He can't fall asleep without it now, this daydream, and sometimes, if he's lucky, it stays, gracing his subconscious with beautiful false memories, the kind that linger a little, in the morning when he opens his eyes.
Still, he can't have any of it, dreams or reality, without making amends.
His first real try, after the initial failure, is when he manages to catch you in the lobby. It's right before your lunch is usually over, and he strategically positions himself to enter the building around the same time as you would. Emmaline is in your arms, and when she catches sight of him, she squeaks, swinging a chubby little fist in his direction. You look over your shoulder at whatever has caught her eye, and when you see him, your face twists, smile shifting into something full of apprehension and worry.
“Hi.” You say, when he gets close, inching towards you like you might run off. Emmaline coos, arms stretched out towards his body, and he lets his hand drift, pointer finger finding the grasp of all five hers, wrapped around him.
“Hey.” I miss you, he’s desperate to say, I’m so sorry. But nothing comes out, and something sad stretches across your face when Emma smiles so big at him.
His phone rings, loudly. Johnny. When he looks back up from the screen, you’re gone.
The next time he tries, is in the supermarket.
You’re pushing Emmaline in the buggy, leaning forward to talk to her in the soft little baby voice that you make, and he stops himself at the end of the aisle, just out of sight. You look exhausted, eyes tired, moving slowly, and his heart aches.
“What about some yogurt?” She bobs in the stroller, and you smile. “Yeah! Yogurt! It’s good huh?” You're not paying attention at all, not cognizant of your surroundings, or his proximity to you. If he was someone else, someone who wanted to hurt you, take you... it'd be a non issue. The back door less than ten meters from where your back is turned, someone could have you incapacitated and vanished before you even knew what was happening. His stomach flips uncomfortably just imagining it, anxiety tossing his breakfast around, everything in him screaming at him to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go again.
You turn the corner to his position, still focused on the baby, half paying attention to where you're walking. You manage to glance up once, right before you nearly run into him, and you jerk backwards in confusion, surprise. "Hey."
"Hey, sorry. I uh... wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
"That's alright." He scrounges around in his empty fucking head for something else to say, before landing on: "How are you?"
"Oh, good. Alright, yeah. We're... we're alright."
"That's good." There's a beat of awkward silence, and you chew on your bottom lip for a second.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine." Just do it, he screams at himself. Just say it. "I've been thinkin' about you." Your eyebrows raise.
"You have?" What? Of course I have, sweetheart. You're all I ever think about now.
"Yeah. A lot, actually." He says softly, like you're not standing in the middle of a grocery store, in between the hustle and bustle of everyone else. "I ah... I know this really isn't the place but I wanted to talk to you. It's... I have something I need to tell you. Are you... free tonight? Can I make you dinner?" He practically rushes it out, like water from a spigot, flooding free, too fast and without aim. It's a cautious request, more of a hopeful thing than anything else, and when you take so, so long to respond, he prepares himself for the disappointment.
"Okay." You whisper, with a nod. "Yes. We... we're around tonight."
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plasticferal · 4 months
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can u plsss write a Matt smut where the reader is like obsessed with his teeth and then she kind of jokes ab licking his teeth but shes not actually joking and then u know the rest
take it or leave it | matt sturniolo.
authors note: this was so fun to write. here’s some kind of soft, lust filled bff!matt turned lovers.
warnings: fem reader, not obscene or 18+ but read at your own discretion. a lot of dialogue, light biting, mark leaving, explicit language.
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you just can't stop staring at your best friend. all he's doing is chewing on a paper straw, swirling it around his soft drink. his eyes are glued to his screen, scrolling through his phone, both of his elbows planted on the dining table.
"i can feel you staring," matt talks with the straw still in his mouth, flashing his perfect teeth with a conceited smirk. you scoff, digging your fork back into the dessert that sits in front of you, to avoid the interrogation you feel coming your way.
"i didn't say stop," you feel his eyes burn holes into you, tone earnest and deep, just waiting for you to glance up at him again.
"wasn't even staring," you speak through a muffled mouthful of cake, not caring if he sees the food in your mouth. he's the closest person in your life, he's probably seen worse.
"real sexy, kid" he teases, staring at your mouth and chuckling as you cover it to swallow your food, flipping him off from across the table.
"no for real, what were you looking at? like be specific," he asks, placing his phone screen down on the table, shuffling in his chair and adjusting his posture. you raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he's on about.
"i can't just admire my best friend?" you sarcastically smile and bat your eyelashes at him, resting your chin into the palm of your hands.
"specifics, go." matt isn't having it, and you drop the act fast.
you ponder on your answer for a moment, or at least pretend to. you know exactly what you want to say but you don't need him getting a big head. well, bigger. he's a walking, talking, humble brag. especially around you.
"ah, okaaaay," you pout your lips with contemplation.
"your eyes i guess. they're pretty. you know that, though" you shrug, prodding at your dessert again, not having any intention on finishing it at this point. matt has you cornered with his new train of thought.
"boring, next." he deadpans, throwing his head back with an eye roll before looking at you again. he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back leisurely.
"fine. ah, your teeth. i'm like obsessed with them. is that a better answer?" you quip, grabbing your plate and pushing away from the table to make your way to the sink.
you hear matt behind you let out an audible "huh?" and can picture the confusion on his face. you don't know what it is about his teeth, or his smile in general. you just get stunned at how perfect they are, the way they just suit his face so much.
they just look like they could form the perfect bite in your skin. he's always chewing a new flavoured gum, flashing them subtly past his perfectly pink lips, and his breath always smells nice. it's weirdly inviting. all thoughts you absolutely shouldn't be having about matthew.
"hang on, rewind. my teeth?" there's an amused underlining to his response, and you just wish you could take back what you said, joke or not.
you rinse the plate off and immediately ignore him, drying your hands with paper towel before bee-lining for the bin in the small dark corner of the room.
"you got your answer, matthew. get over it," you exhale, tossing it into the black rubbish bag.
"no no, i'm not done with you yet," you hear his chair make a disturbing scratchy squeak against the vinyl floors with how fast he pushes his chair back, following where your body is moving.
you walk around the dining table in the opposite direction of him, but he changes directions to match yours. you collapse onto the couch, sitting cross legged and he falls into the spot right next to you, despite having the entire couch. your shoulders are touching and his knee his touching yours.
"you were staring at my teeth and now i need to know why," matt requests, leaning one elbow up on the back of the couch, facing you completely.
"i can't answer tha-"
"y/n" he cuts you off seriously.
"i don't know, okay? drop it, matthew." you push back with frustration, not understanding why he can't. it's either he's pushing your buttons on purpose or he can sense the subject easily taking a turn in a different direction.
"i'm not trying to piss you off. i just wanted know. sorry" his voice softens, and he shifts so he's facing the t.v.
you almost feel bad snapping at him, considering you instigated his reaction in the first place by not justifying it straight away.
you bite your nails, trying to avoid talking. it's so hard with matt. he just always brings it out of you. looking at him while he watches the screen ahead of you just makes you yearn to hear his voice again. he's so quiet for the most part that when you get him out of his shell you don't ever want him to stop.
"i've always liked your teeth. i don't know what it is. i wish i could explain it but i can't," you speak shyly, a very rare feeling around him.
you have literally shared every waking thought with this man. it just feels so different when it involves him personally. on a physical descriptive level. matt leans his head back on the massive couch cushion, giving you a lazy half grin, looking up at you through hooded eyes.
"do you just like staring at them or do you wanna like, touch them?" he flashes his teeth like a vampire, and you push his face away with a laugh, knowing he's teasing with good intention. he chuckles, pushing your own hand back into your body.
"you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"
"not until i can wrap my head around it, no" he folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits and they disappear under his oversized hoodie, snickering at his own defence.
he looks you in the eyes, the same fiery stare he gives you when he's about to say something out of pocket, you can read him like a book.
"you wanna touch 'em?"
"matt," you scold, knowing whatever he has planned is just to keep this joke lingering. or what you think is a joke to him.
"i'm serious, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this little fetish of yours" he's so pleased with his words, grinning like an idiot as he nestles his face closer to yours.
"i'd get more pleasure out of it with my tongue," you chortle, then pause suddenly, not believing what you just said out loud.
you force your face to plaster a look on it that says 'i'm joking' but there's no part of what you just said that matt is taking comically.
"go on." matt replies.
"what's gotten into you, tonight?" you have a half simper half befuddled look as you lean back to make sure you're seeing him right.
making sure you're speaking to matt, not someone posing as him with how bold and absurd he's been acting for the past few minutes. he's always being flirtatious, in a bantering and unalloyed manner. this felt different, he's being a lot more direct. a lot less blithe.
"i am literally giving you one chance to do this and then i'm never bringing it up again. take it or leave it, y/n"
"open your mouth, then.” you say in a ‘i bet you won’t’ tone, not believing he actually will. you’re taken aback when he tilts his head up lightly, an innocent look on his face when he parts his mouth, creating a perfect oval.
“you’re seriously okay with this?” you ask, beginning to lean forward, tempting and just waiting for the moment he pulls away, or snaps his mouth closed. he nods, mouth still open.
you know him well enough by now to understand that when matt says he’ll never mention it again, he means it. he’s petty like that.
“fuck it, m’god” you mumble, cupping the side of his jaw, fingertips resting under his ear and being tickled by his hair, pulling him to you.
your breaths intertwine as you hover over his mouth, your lips don’t touch when you poke your tongue out and let it slide behind his top teeth and trail across the sharp edge, slowly, left to right. when you pull away, you observe him.
matt closes his mouth, sucking his teeth and plastering a thoughtful look on his face. you wait for his response.
“well?” you can only wait for so long before you’re trying to entice him to say something, anything.
he adjusts himself on the lounge, full body facing you at this point, if he was pushed up any closer he’d be on top of you.
“just like, out of curiosity. can you do it again?” he asks bashfully. he did say take it or leave it. so you take it, while he’s dangling it in front of you.
this time, you curve your hand gently around the back of his neck to guide his face. tilting your head slightly before pulling him in. you lick the back of the teeth again, even slower than the first time. you can feel matt holding his breath, and the taste of the root beer he just had still lingering.
matt takes a deep breath when you part from him again, flaring his nostrils slightly and sucking on the inside of his cheek. he looks confused, in a content way. but confused nonetheless.
you stare at him, memorising this look on his face. without breaking his stare with you, matt reaches for a pillow and throws it over his lower body, holding it in place. before he has a chance to set it onto his lap, you glance down to see the bulge forming under his black shorts.
“did you like my tongue in your mouth, matthew?” your words are jovial, but he turns away from you after you question him, looking quite literally anywhere else.
“no-i,i mean. fuck, i don't know. no." he rambles, response being faster than his brain can even register, not pulling out the best choice of words from his vocabulary.
“no? is that why you let me do it twice?” you tease, turning the table on him.
"you're right," he pauses.
"maybe we should make it three. for good luck." he looks back at you with a red hue on his cheeks, simpering smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he hugs the pillow on his lap.
"only if you ask nicely," you squint your eyes, and he rolls his.
"i'm not beggin' for it. no way." he shakes his head, boston accent coming through a lot thicker when he's defensive. it happens a lot, and that's how you know you have him cornered.
"your call, matty. take it or leave it." the front you're putting on for him is a fraud, having a gut feeling that it's the only cue he needs to surrender. he's silent for a solid minute.
"fuck, jesus, okay." he finishes, grabbing your face this time. he caresses your jaw, and his touch is so firm and so warm.
the pillow between your bodies is like a barrier, but he pushes up against it hard to bring you as close to his face as you can. you brace yourself for him to open his mouth again, but instead, your lips collide.
your eyes close instinctively and his soft, wet lips move with yours, taking your bottom lip between the kiss, and letting his tongue slide in and dance across your own. slowly he pulls away, fluttering inches over your mouth instead of distancing himself.
"i don't know, i don't know why i just-" matt is still touching your face through his panic-stricken words.
you don't even counter his sentence before grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him back to your mouth. you shove the pillow off the lounge in-between your bodies with your knee while shifting your body weight onto his lap, an easy transition considering how close you've been the whole time.
matt grabs your waist immediately, securing you on top of him and deepening the kiss. you feel your throat shake with his small, desirous moan into your mouth. you sink all of your body weight onto him and can feel his dick underneath you growing harder, heat radiating from between his legs.
the kiss becomes heavier, more desperate and messy, missing each others mouths and clashing your teeth, taking breaths for a split second before attacking each other's lips again. your nails dig into his shoulders and matt's hands lower, stationing on your upper thigh.
you're in such a state of disbelief but ignore every doubt or worry you're forcing yourself to have. you've mentally convinced yourself this is a dream. you're not actually grinding into your bestfriend's groin, making out with him and having his thumbs get closer and closer to your heat, feeling wet already at the friction.
matt kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek bone, the tip of your nose, then your jaw. he trails the kisses on your jaw lower and lower, grazing his teeth along your delicate skin until he reaches he crease of your neck just under your ear, and you lean into him as much as you possibly can.
"you like my teeth so much, wait until you see what they can do to your neck," he forces deeply against your skin, biting at your earlobe.
"god, matt," you exhale.
you feel a sharp, stinging suck to your neck, making you gasp. he pulls your skin into his mouth, tongue rubbing the area that he's suffocating in his bite. he pulls away, making a sharp sound when he lets go. he repeats the same thing just underneath his first bite, and your body is twisting and distorting in his arms. you tug at his hair with a warning.
"you’re gonna have to explain those marks." you tremble, yet not stopping him. he taunts a stifled laugh.
"don't care," he starts, pulling your shirt off your shoulder and sucking another deep purple mark on your collar bone.
"i'll spell my name out on your skin if i have to." it’s like he’s a trance, trailing his middle finger along the bites he just left before looking up at you with a dazed smile.
his chest is rising and falling prominently, both of you catching your breath after the intense session. matt gently presses his lips to yours again, and you lean your forehead against his. he grips at the bottom hem of your shirt, toying with the fabric.
"if i knew my teeth would get you on top of me, i would have let you lick em' sooner," he has a crooked, dopey grin on his face. you blush, flustered at his words.
"is this is insane? you don't think you're gonna regret it?" you're cautious with your words, voice gentle, head still leaning against his and your fingers playing with the hair creeping on the nape of his neck.
"i could never regret you." he shakes his head softly, making you smile and peck another gentle kiss on his lips. you know he means his words, and they make you want to melt into a puddle.
"smile for me quickly," you banter, holding onto his shoulders but pulling back to look at his face properly.
he covers his face with his big hands and you let out a hearty laugh, attempting to pry them off and begging him to stop hiding.
"matt! you'll let me shove my tongue down your throat but can't smile for me?" your stomach hurts with the laughter caused by the sheer fight he's putting up covering his face.
when you finally get him to drop his hands he has the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. smiling ear to ear, and eyes closed shut, putting on a show for you. he drops his face quickly once you've had your time to look, and has those signature tired and heavy eyes make an appearance once again.
you lean in, slowly, so slow. your face is drawing him in like a magnet, him following your moves to meet in the middle. he flashes his teeth once again, and you run the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip, feeling his teeth too, budging his mouth open.
"now you're just taking advantage of it," his raspy voice speaks, pulling you back to his mouth by your neck and leading with his tongue, letting it slide in and moaning into your parted lips. they finally sink into each others after teasing each other, seeing who falls into the kiss first.
your tongues fight for dominance and matt grabs the back of your neck hard, forcing you to stay where you are. you're tilting left and he's tilting right as you focus on breathing through your nose to stay attached to each other as long as you can.
you can literally feel matt take his time to explore your mouth, circling every inch he possibly can. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard, making you gasp before pulling back and letting go, both of your mouths wet and glistening with each others saliva.
matt wipes your mouth with his thumb, applying enough pressure but still being gentle. he's staring at your skin before his eyes fixate on those marks he left earlier.
"oh fuck, they're pretty bad" he giggles, and you roll off his lap with a groan, slapping your hand over your neck as if to hide them from him. your legs drape over his thighs and you can feel him looking at you.
you hide from him by sinking into the lounge for no good reason other than you think somehow it'll make the marks disappear, or manifest that it does.
"i didn't even bring makeup to cover it," you fake cry, seeing how bad it could make him feel, but he doesn't budge. matt slaps your thigh as if to say 'i'm not buying it' then rubs your legs soothingly.
"you're not covering them up. i won't let you leave the house if you do, no other option." matt is demanding but lighthearted in his words.
"oh no, i can't leave, what a shame," you dramatically flail your hand to your temple like an old school movie scene, and matt pokes your rib to get you to snap out of it.
"if you ever want to see my teeth again i'd watch the dramatics, honey" and those words coming from him alone make you cut the act, flushing red and sitting up properly.
you don't know how he's managed to whip you into line, usually being the other way around, but you're not risking it.
you've somehow taken more than you could ever ask for from him, and you're still anxious that you've bitten off more than you can chew. no pun intended.
regardless, you're in ignorant bliss. you'll take everything you can get from matt, and more, if he's willing to give it to you. which at this point, you're sure he is.
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skzstannie · 3 months
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Hii it’s okay if you can’t but I was wondering if you could do a skz x 9th member reader where she was in a car crash as well as the others? But she was badly injured as well and had to be looked after by chan because she wasn’t in good condition? Totally okay if you can’t thanks❤️
"You're awake!"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member!reader (Chan-centric)
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~3,200 cw: some cussing, car accident, reader and skz get hurt
summary: ^^ see request
A/N: Hello! Not super happy with how this came out, but I hope you still like it anon! Started a new semester, so updates will be less frequent, but I'll still be lurking in everyone's feed through likes and reblogs 👀
Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!
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"I'm just saying, if penguin's could fly, I think they'd take over the world."
"Felix, literally what are you talking about?" you give him a strange look from where you're seated diagonal from him in the car.
"If penguins ever learned to fly, I think they'd try to overthrow the government in a vengeful fury."
You all sit in silence for a moment, trying to preserve the last of your braincells from deteriorating.
"Okay..." Seungmin responds, quirking his eyebrow at him.
"I am so excited for tonight!" you break the silence that settles, practically vibrating in your seat from the excitement.
"We know, you haven't stopped talking about it," Minho boredly comments, his phone lighting up his face from the shadowy back seat.
Jeongin throws an elbow in his side from where he's seated beside him, earning himself a nasty glare from the man. "Don't be mean to Ynnie, she's just excited to perform."
"I'm so sorry. Let me rephrase that," he clears his throat, setting his phone down in his lap, "Oh my gosh, I know! It's all you've talked about since this morning!" he squeaks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your grumpy member.
Before Minho has the chance to respond, your entire world is shaken when another car T-bones you from the right.
Time seems to slow down as the car is flipped, sending you out of your seat towards the ceiling of the car. Your seatbelt manages to control some of the damage to your head, but it slices into your neck from the pressure. Blood starts to drip out of your wound, but you don't even feel it as your hazy gaze travels over to your members.
Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes land on Felix's still body in the back seat, his eyelids draped shut. He doesn't appear to have any other injuries, but you're immediately ripped away from the sight of Felix when you hear Minho groan in pain. You Jeongin a quick once over, and upon seeing no visible injuries, keep your eyes moving. You don't miss the way Jeongin's hands are firmly grasped around Felix's forearm as he shakes the older man, trying to wake him.
It's painful to twist in your seat, but you do so anyway. Catching a glimpse of Minho, you see a jagged piece of glass protruding out of his forearm. It appears small, but you know it must still hurt like a bitch. Other than that he looks okay, so you continue to look over your remaining members. His eyes are panicked as he frantically looks over the four of you. "You guys ok?" his voice shakes with fear, and his teeth are clenched from the pain radiating from the glass in his arm.
The ringing in your ears starts to subside a bit, and the grunts coming from your right get louder. Seungmin's arm is twisted at an unnatural angle, and there's blood dripping from his left eyebrow. You can't bring yourself to answer Minho, the shock still clouding your mind.
As the rest of your senses start to come back to you, your focus remains on Seungmin as he huffs in pain. You feel a stinging sensation in your thigh, but as you slowly start to drop your head to look, you feel a shaky finger reach under your chin.
Seungmin's reached his hand out, gently pulling your chin until your eyes meet his again.
"Just keep looking at me, Yn," he whispers. You do as you're told, but the pain is worsening by the second, and your breathing starts to quicken.
All else is tuned out as your eyes remain on Seungmin's unwavering gaze.
Seconds feel like hours as you sit there in the car. Your eyelids start to become heavy, and you fuzzily catch Seungmin's eyes turn frantic as your blinks become slower and more frequent.
"Just keep your eyes open, don't fall asleep," he repeats. His word are gentle at first, but as your mind turns to mud, his voice becomes louder and urgent, almost screaming at you. You feel a rough hand grab your shoulder from behind, shaking you. Their attempts to keep you awake are futile, though, as everything becomes too much for you to handle.
"No, don't close your eyes! Stay with me!" and that's the last thing you hear before you drift off into the darkness.
~ ~ ~
You're awoken to the sound of quiet repetitive beeping.
Opening your eyes is a task all in itself, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy.
After a moment of struggle, you're met with the bright light from a window to your right. You slowly turn your head to the side, and you see Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all perched on the couch. It looks uncomfortable, the way all three of them are scrunched up on the little loveseat.
You let your gaze linger on them for a moment, their presence providing a calming sensation for your jumbled mind.
Suddenly, your surroundings overwhelm you. You become terribly aware of all the wires connected to you. The ECG stickers become your biggest enemy, and the IV sticking out of your hand makes you angry.
Really angry.
You groan when you try to lift your arm, a sharp, shooting pain radiating down from your shoulder. You push through the pain though, urgent to remove all these wires from your body. The bandages littering your body feel as if they're burning your skin, and you've never needed to get something off of you faster.
You begin to peel the bandages from your arms, the pain from the adhesive no match for the pain you had been feeling previous to their removal.
Your agonistic groans manage to wake Changbin, and he panics when he sees you frantically tearing at your ECG stickers.
He jumps up from the couch, earning a yelp from Hyunjin as he was using Changbin as a pillow.
You're too overwhelmed to care about their actions as you continue to tear at your skin, even the blankets covering your body feeling like burning coals on your skin.
"Woah, what are you doing? You can't take those off yet," Changbin tells you, rushing to your side to try and restrain your arms.
"They're hurting me," you mumble, wretching your arms out of Changbin's grip to continue to pull at everything that touches you.
"Yn," Hyunjin gasps, quickly standing to his feet, running over to help Changbin.
Chan awakens from the commotion, alarm bells immediately sounding in his head when he sees your panicked movements.
You become more frantic when Hyunjin grabs one of your arms from Changbin, rendering you immobile.
"Get off!" you screech, yanking on your arms as hard as you can. Chan quickly runs out of the room in search of any healthcare professional he can find.
"You're gonna hurt yourself," Hyunjin struggles against you, holding tightly onto your hand.
"Let me go!" you continue to scream like a banshee, "You're hurting me!"
Neither do as you say, fearing for what you'll do to yourself if they listen.
"You're ok," Changbin pleads, bringing one of his hands away from your arm to rest it gently on your forehead. "Please calm down, everything will be ok."
You're too panicked to notice Chan re-enter the room, a nurse trailing in behind him.
She has a shot in her hand, and she hurriedly comes up beside Changbin to administer the drug. She hastily inserts the needle into your upper arm, and it only takes seconds for your demeanor to soften. Your thrashing becomes weaker, and your shouts become quieter, turning into soft mumbles.
The guys let out a sigh upon seeing your eyes close, your stature finally relaxing into the hospital bed once again.
"What the hell was that?" Hyunjin huffs, slightly out of breath from the physical altercation.
"Sometimes patients can be violent when they wake up out of a coma. It can happen to anyone," the nurse explains, taking the chart off the wall beside the bed. "We'll get some soft restraints to put on her arms before she wakes up again. It's unlikely for her to panic again, but it's just a precaution."
The guys nod, all three of them staring at your now peaceful face.
~ ~ ~
The next time you wake up, you feel as if you're experiencing deja vu. Your eyes open slowly, and you wince at the feeling of them being crusted over from sleep.
You also become strikingly aware of the aching pain radiating from your thigh. Your leg remains immobile, and you feel the constricting cast running from your mid thigh down to your ankle.
You go to bring your hand up to rub your face, but your movements are restricted. Your attention is brought to your hands, now laying limply by your side. There are restraints covering your wrists. Your face contorts into an expression of confusion, and you glance at the couch to your right.
Seated there are Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Your deja vu hits you harder when you see them resting against one another, sleeping soundly.
"Chan," you call out to him, your voice surprisingly hoarse, your throat scratchy and raw.
He immediately jolts up, waking the other two in the process.
"Hey, you're awake," he says, getting up from the couch.
He's cautious as he walks over to you, taking slow steps to get to your bed. Changbin and Hyunjin watch from the couch, keeping their distance. Their expressions rival Chan's, somehow looking even more timid.
"Hi," you suddenly feel shy under their gazes, "Why are you looking at me like that? I can't even move; can we get these things off of me."
"Yea, sorry, the nurse said it was just precautionary. I'll go get someone to take them off of you," Hyunjin gets up from the couch, hurrying out into the hallway.
Realization dawns on you, and you bring your eyes to meet Chan's again. "Did I hurt someone? What happened?"
"You were trying to hurt yourself," a nurse enters the room, answering the question for Chan. "You were in a coma for a couple days. Sometimes, when patients wake, they can turn aggressive. Which you did, but nobody was hurt, the boys stopped you before you could do any damage."
You just nod, not entirely sure how to respond. She explains in more detail what had happened as she takes the restraints off your wrists.
"We had to sedate you, so you were out for an additional day. On the bright side, your coma allowed for your body to do some of the tough healing while you were unconscious. You had a surgery on your thigh the night you were brought in due to a compound fracture in your femur. The surgery was successful. It seems to be doing well for now, of course we'll have to bring you back in for some check-ups, but you should be good to go for now."
Your eyes widen as she goes on and on. Chan sits beside you, rubbing a hand up and down your back to help comfort you. The nurse continues about the paperwork, and leaves to gather it so you can leave.
"How are you feeling?" Changbin asks from the end of your bed.
"Overwhelmed," you answer curtly. The thought of not being able to perform for a while hurts your heart. Not only that, but you can't even walk!
Your suddenly hit with a wave of memories from the night of the accident, and your eyes water at the thought of the rest of your members who were in the car with you.
"Are the other guys alright? Where are they?" your voice is panicked as you ramble off questions.
"They're ok, we promise," Chan reassures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "They went home a couple days ago to rest. None of them got hurt as badly as you did. They all got some stitches, Seungmin's got a broken arm, and Felix has a pretty nasty concussion, but they're ok."
You sigh in relief, allowing your head to rest on Chan's shoulder.
The nurse comes back in, a folder filled with paperwork in hand. "As soon as you fill these out, you'll be good to go! Your medications and dosages are in this little baggy. You had some lacerations on your side, but we just covered them with butterfly bandages. The stitches on your neck can be taken out at your next appointment. Just be weary of them as you go about your day, try not to turn your head too quickly," she instructs, handing over the paperwork.
Within a few minutes, everything is filled out and you've been put in a wheelchair. Chan stands behind you, wheeling you out towards the van. Hyunjin carries your crutches from beside you, and Changbin holds your medicine and the paperwork.
Getting in the car was a hassle all in itself, as your leg felt like a million pounds with the cast on it. Your hip was so sore from laying in bed for so long, so you opted to have Chan lift you into the car.
Once finally settled, you lean back against the seat and close your eyes. You don't want to admit it, but you know these next few months are going to be difficult.
~ ~ ~
It's been a few weeks now, and things have started to go back to how they were before the accident. This is the first regularly scheduled week since then, and you're grateful for the normalcy.
Your managers had put everything on hold for a while, allowing you and the rest of your members to recover some. They knew it was a difficult time for all of you, and you were thankful for their leniency.
You have been spending most of your time on the downstairs couch, lounging around in front of the T.V. Various members would join you throughout the day, helping you with whatever you needed. Chan has certainly been the most doting, running at your every beck and call.
Today was no different; Chan decided to stay home with you while the rest of the members went to dance practice. He knew it'd probably put him behind, but they weren't set to perform for a good while, so he'll just catch up a different day. Plus, he knows Minho can handle them all just fine without him there.
The two of you are lounging on the couch, watching one of your favorite T.V shows, when Chan gets up to use the bathroom.
You hear the door close, and realize now's your chance. Your stomach's been growling for the past hour, but you didn't want to make Chan make you something.
However, you are done being the world's longest lounging couch potato, so you rise to your feet, grabbing your crutches from beside you, and make your way into the kitchen.
You know you don't have long before Chan finds you, so you ravage through the fridge quickly to try and find something to eat. You see your leftovers from the other night neatly packed away, so you grab those.
You carefully set your crutches down, leaning them on the counter next to you before hopping, leftovers in hand, to the microwave.
Unfortunately, the rug in front of the sink slips beneath you, and you fall onto the ground, your leftovers opening and spilling out onto you.
"Oh for fuck's sake," you sigh. Thankfully, you're not hurt, your butt just a little sore, but some of the sauce now decorates your cast.
You hear the door fling open from down the hall, and a frantic Chan bursts into the kitchen a mere second later. "What are you doing?" he's panicked as he rushes over to you, his arms looping under yours to pull you up.
"I was just going to heat these up because I was hungry, but then I slipped. I'm fine," you lightly push Chan away from you, knowing fully well that you can stand on your own.
He looks slightly taken back by your attitude, but nevertheless moves towards you again. He wraps his arms around you in an attempt to pick you up, no doubt to carry you back into your permanent spot on the living room couch, but you give him a firmer shove this time. "Did I hurt you?" he worries, his eyebrows scrunching.
"No, I just want to walk to the bathroom myself and get cleaned up," you explain, doing your best to keep your composure.
"I can help, let me grab you a wash rag for your cast," he bends down next to you, rummaging through the cupboard.
"Chan, please," you sigh. As much as you loved being babied at first, enough is enough. "I need some time by myself. I love you guys, but I'm not sure I've had a moment alone since the accident." Your arms are crossed as he stands, a pout forming on his face.
"But we just want to help you," he says, puppy-dog eyes on full display.
"And I thank you for all you guys have done the past month, but I really need to start doing things for myself again," you reach past him, grabbing your crutches and head down the hall to your bathroom. "Now to get this sauce off me," you mumble as you push the door open with the end of your crutch.
~ ~ ~
You're laying on your bed later in the day, knee propped up on a plump pillow to help alleviate some of the pain from your aching leg, when you hear a knock on door.
You tell them to come in, and the door opens to reveal Chan. "Hi," he's timid as he walks in. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, a guilty look on his face.
"What's up?" you ask, sliding your bookmark into the crease of your novel.
"I wanted to apologize on behalf of all of us. We've been really clingy since the accident, and we didn't realize we were overstepping."
"Chan," you sigh, adjusting yourself to sit next to him. "Please don't beat yourself up about this. Honestly, I was just a little frustrated earlier and took it out on you. You guys have helped me more than you know these last few weeks. I really don't mind all the doting."
His eyes light up at that. "Really?" his voice is giddy, and you regret that you were the cause of his sadness before.
While the overprotectiveness really did get on your nerves a bit, if it brings them that much happiness to take care of you, you suppose you can get past your grumpiness and let them do it.
"Really."
"Guys, she changed her mind!" he yells, and not even a second later, your door swings open, seven smiling faces staring back at you.
They hurry into your room, clumsily fighting each other to sit on your bed. They're still cautious of your leg, but they all manage to fit, even if a little squished.
"Don't make me regret this," you joke, ruffling Seungmin's hair from where he's laid out on your lap.
"You know you love us," Chan comments, smirking at you.
"I certainly do."
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biblio-smia · 4 months
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shy shy shy
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a little insecure tasm peter parker x reader, early stages of relationship
masterlist | requests are open!
buy me a ko-fi!
nerdy peter lovers rise
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They were just glasses.
On, off. On, off. A clear reflection of Peter in the bathroom mirror, a few circles of color where his head and body would be.
Peter examines himself with the lenses on, pulls out a piece of his sweater that had gotten caught inside his plaid pajama pants. His hands run up through the damp hair that falls flat against his forehead in an attempt to give it a little volume but it's no use without his usual styling products. Peter slaps his palms on his cheeks, shakes his head and sends micro-drops of water sailing. He bounces in place, attempting to shake out the jitters his body has had trouble containing all day.
Peter pushes his contact lens case aside, gives himself one last glance over. He contemplates for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. Peter sighs as he pulls the lenses off again, cradling them in his hands and blowing air through his lips.
Metal frames, thick lenses.
Couldn't have that spider fixed his vision while he was at it?
Okay, Peter's vision wasn't that bad. Maybe he could survive without the frames Peter felt altered his appearance so drastically (or at least, reflected more accurately the type of person Peter was in his spare time). Peter with Contacts was cool and confident - scaled back from the confidence he had while he was in his suit, but not as pathetic as he was back in high school. Peter with Glasses? Yeah, that guy looked deserving of wedgies.
He reaches for his phone to check the time (and make sure he hasn't left you alone for too long), but can't make out what the white numbers say through his cracked screen.
Okay, maybe it is pretty bad.
Peter sighs, picks up the mess he'd made pre and post shower, hyping himself up one more time before opening the door and flipping the light switch off.
Peter pads down the hallway and peers his head around the corner into the small living room. He squints and can just barely make out the top of your head sitting on his couch.
Even though he can't see you very well, Peter's heart makes a funny feeling in his chest, even through the eye strain.
It's like you can feel Peter's eyes on you (which, you probably can - Peter is working overtime to try and make out the details of you) because you sit a little straighter and turn your head. Peter pushes his glasses on just in time to see you smile. And then grin.
"You wear glasses?"
Your voice is curious, not at all condescending, though Peter can hear the smile in your voice as you come up to meet him.
"For the aesthetics," Peter grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms in an attempt to make you believe the false sense of confidence he's putting up. It's stupid, really, but a tiny piece of Peter thinks someone as consistently perfect as you should be with someone who is equally on par. And, at the moment, Peter feels like he's letting you down.
You stand close to Peter, too close (his heart can't stop fluttering and his breath has caught in his throat). Peter fights the urge to pull you close to him. Too much, too soon, though he'd really like to kiss you right about now.
You try to contain your smile, a part of you still not quite believing that you've been so consistently guilty of making Peter Parker flustered.
Your fingers gently pull Peter's glasses off with a glint in your eye and Peter frowns at the sudden loss of sight - only because he doesn't want to miss looking at you from so close.
"For the aesthetics, huh?" You grin, turning the glasses to measure the thickness of Peter's lenses. Your suspicions about the strength of his prescription are confirmed by the way Peter's eyes are squeezed together as he looks at you.
"A hundred percent," Peter persists, opening his eyes normally and looking straight at the blurred lines of your face.
You take a step back and flash your phone at Peter, tiny words melted into a block of black. Peter instinctively squints and leans forward, trying to distinguish what the small screen said.
"You're like a grandma," you laugh, fully now.
"You should feel horrible for making fun of the elderly." Peter's arms drop, reaching for his glasses with an easy smile. But you move your hands away and Peter's hands catch on the crooks of your arms as you carefully place Peter's glasses back on his face, taking care to place them behind his ears as comfortably as you can. Your fingers graze against Peter's hair, still damp from his shower, gently moving a few stray pieces back into place.
"Well, you can't go to sleep like that," you murmur. "You'll get sick."
"So I guess we have time to kill?" Peter asks, hoping the two of you will sit down for a movie - or anything that'd keep him close to you, really.
"I guess we do," you grin, hands falling to Peter's shoulders, savoring the feeling of his hands on you, unable to help the craving you have for more.
"Pete?"
"Hmm?" Peter is partially entranced, melted like chocolate with the sweet sound of that little nickname coming out of your mouth. His eyes flicker and he's trying not to stare at your lips, bottom lip caught in his mouth in anticipation.
"Could I put my stuff in your room?" You ask sweetly, trying not to laugh at the way Peter falters, blinking quickly.
"Oh, yeah, sure," Peter nods frantically, hoping he's not as red as he feels.
You bite back your grin as Peter stays there, not moving until you do, sweet brown eyes slightly magnified by his glasses. Oh, but it'd be so cruel to deny him.
You press a quick kiss to the corner of Peter's mouth. It's a little shy and you turn away immediately to grab the overnight bag you'd packed. Two pairs of cheeks are red and grateful for the excuse of it, trying to shake off the little bit of nervousness the two of you still have around each other. It's a little strange, neither of you quite used to having someone around to love so freely. It's new, too, both of you still a little afraid to do something that would scare the other off, each of you knowing you'd never be the one to run off.
But this tiny fear that lives in both of your brains is what had Peter picking over his appearance earlier and is what makes him nervous now as he leads you down the hall to his room. He'd cleaned it thoroughly, considering hiding all his trinkets and trophies, ended up shoving things that had littered his shelves into his closet.
Peter takes a breath before opening his creaky door, smiling as he welcomes you in, hoping you somehow wouldn't notice - or maybe, wouldn't care to ask about - any of the posters or books or medals or figurines that made Peter, Peter. He was partially embarrassed and entirely nervous about sharing more of himself with you. After all, Peter was an expert at shutting people out and not too great at letting them in.
He doesn't know if he's relieved or even more anxious as you stare in awe, bag abandoned near his bed. It's clear you're taking in every detail of Peter's room, eyes not missing a single decoration. Peter feels as if he's being dissected, fidgeting as he waits for you to finish your analyzing. He's about to suggest that movie when you walk over to the desk he has shoved against the wall. Peter doesn't think there's anything special about books and pencils, but you're touching the tops of the things on his desk with care and a fascination he doesn't quite understand.
You quietly move onto old trophies and medals Peter has displayed, only the ones he was proudest of.
"Princeton Math Competition? Wow, Pete." You only turn your attention to him momentarily, returning your eyes to the shelf with a grin.
Peter's heart flutters when you sound... impressed? It was an accomplishment he was proud of, but not something he went around telling strangers.
"Oh, that... that- that's old," Peter laughs, coming up behind you, sure now there'd be no chance of getting you to watch that movie.
"Tell me about it."
"W...what?" Peter laughs, glancing at you curiously.
"I wanna hear about it," you say genuinely, taking a seat on the edge of Peter's bed. "Tell me about it."
Peter doesn't have to tell you he's shocked for you to realize it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him. Peter's not sure he has the courage to ask why before you beat him, sensing his hesitancy.
"I wanna know everything about you Peter. I wanna hear about your math competitions. I want you to tell me what books you're reading. I wanna know what matters most to you," you shrug, face a little warm from the confession. You don't have too much time to be embarrassed before Peter is next to you, hands digging into the bed at your sides. His face is inches away, his breath warm on your lips.
"Please let me kiss you," Peter whispers.
"Please do," you whisper back, letting Peter take your face in his hands and pull you into a kiss. The surface you've chosen is a little unstable as the both of you shift around, neither of you quite able to let the other go until you're forced to, breathless and grinning.
Peter's glasses have fogged up and he groans, pulling them off exasperatedly. "God, I hate these things."
"Really? But you look so good in them," you comment innocently, picking up the frames and attempting to look through them, muttering something about how, wow, Peter is blind.
Peter's not paying attention, though, heart hammering in his chest. He takes you by surprises when he kisses you this time, glasses still in your hands as they rest against his chest.
"You're trouble," Peter says when he finally pulls away. "You're doing awful things to my heart."
"Should I make fun of you, then?" You tease.
"Oh, I think that'd make it worse."
"I didn't know you were into that."
Peter shoves you as you laugh, though he can't help but join you.
"I didn't know you were into nerds," Peter quips, letting you slide his glasses back onto his face - the ones that suddenly don't seem that bad anymore.
"Only the really pretty ones," you murmur, and really, how could Peter not kiss you for that one?
Peter tries to take his glasses off as your kissing grows heated, knowing they'll be useless when they eventually fog up anyway. But your hand stops Peter, lips puffy from plenty of kisses and still eager for more.
"Nuh-uh," you say, pulling Peter's hand back down. "Keep them on."
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megistusdiary · 13 days
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i have a vision i need you guys to see.
2000s!arle who's looking to get some sleeve fillers. her bandmate, tartaglia, recommends her to try this new shop. he told her the artist is "insanely talented," so she figures, why not?
(longer post/nsfw utc - tw smaller reader, transfem arle mentions)
when she walks in, she sees you sitting on the counter, legs swinging as you greet her.
"hey, welcome in. what can i help you with?" she watches you hop down off the counter, now having to look down at you given your shorter stature.
you don't look like you have many tattoos at all, funny enough. doesn't look like you really belong in a place like this, but she thinks you're a pretty cute counter-girl.
"i'm looking to get some sleeve fillers, sweetheart." she leans down over you, a hand on the wall by your head.
"go figure." you snort and she's a little taken aback.
"you're a little fiesty thing, huh?" she asks and you tilt your head. she cuts you off, waving her hand. "anyways, i'm thinking of adding onto my sleeve." she rolls up her shirt, flexing her bicep for you.
"do you have anything specific you want?"
"i have some ideas." she shrugs, leaning back to her full height with a smug little grin. "so, there an artist back there?" she gestures to the back of the shop.
"actually-"
once again, she cuts you off. "my friend said-" she takes her phone out, flipping the lid open and showing tartaglia's message with the artist's name on it. "she works here. you know her?"
you blink at the phone being shoved in your face, but you laugh anyway. "oh, really? you're looking for her?"
"yeah, what about it? is she shitty or something?" she doesn't seem to notice your half-annoyed eyeroll.
"nothing. i'll go set you up in the room." you tug her along, grabbing the consent forms and other things she'll need to fill out. "here, fill these out." you sit her in the chair, handing her the clipboard.
"aw, won't you stay with me? i get nervous when the ink comes out." she sends you an almost sleazy grin.
"oh, i'd love to, but i can't." you feign a pout. "gotta go get the artist." you grin and escape the room quickly, leaving her to her own devices.
she fills the papers out easily, having done so before many times.
she hears the door click, seeing a taller woman covered in tattoos walking in and setting up. she collects the paperwork from arlecchino, checking through it.
"cool, the artist will be in shortly."
arlecchino tilts her head. "it's not you?"
the woman arched an eyebrow, shrugging, closing the door again and leaving arlecchino in silence.
she looks around the room, hearing the door click open after a few minutes. "finally-" she turns around to see-
you?
she stiffens in the chair. "you're joking, right?" she asks with a laugh.
"what's the problem?" you scoff, sitting down on the chair next to the tattoo bed. "you don't trust me?"
"you don't have a speck of ink anywhere on you. how exactly am i supposed to trust you?"
"your friend seemed to think i was 'insanely talented,' right? do you trust him?" you counter and she bites the inside of her cheek.
she stays quiet while you set up, showing her some of your designs, which she picks from to fill in her sleeve.
she sits still the entire time, feeling your gloved hand on her skin. you look small next to her, cute, she thinks, and-
"stop staring at me." you cut her thoughts off without even looking away from her arm.
"can't help it, sweetheart." she quickly covers and you sigh. she grins mischievously up at you.
you set your gun down, grabbing her jaw and tugging her up to meet your gaze. "don't call me that. watch your mouth." you suddenly snap, your cute little aura gone, replaced by something darker.
it only makes her breath hitch, feeling your fingers on her jaw. "oh, little kitty has claws." she taunts and you scoff, leaning in.
your lips graze the shell of her ear and she shivers. "don't talk to me that way, or i swear, i'll have you on your fucking knees begging me for forgiveness." you mutter.
she isn't sure if it's a real threat, but the change in your tone is enough to have her nodding regardless. her mind is filled with thoughts of you, riding her, a hand on her throat as you control the pace.
you see her hardening beneath her jeans and you arch an eyebrow. "you're pretty pathetic for a flirt." you snap.
and she swears she could cum right then and there from just your gaze.
too bad you go right back to tattooing with everything re-sterilized.
damn.
501 notes · View notes
tenpintsof-sundrop · 1 month
Note
Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3
Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼
See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)
(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)
DC Titans Requests - OPEN
How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?
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(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)
Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)
...
Jason is minding his own business when it happens.
(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)
He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)
But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.
(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)
There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.
And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.
He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.
(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)
But all of that was aside from the point.
The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.
He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)
(1) new photo
That instantly catches Jason's attention.
Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.
Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-
Holy fuck.
The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.
(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)
Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.
You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.
The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.
And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.
Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-
His phone buzzed again.
Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'
Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.
So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.
'No.'
(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)
'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'
Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.
'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'
(You hesitated.)
Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'
'???'
Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'
Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.
'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'
Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'
'Fine, I'll owe you one'
Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -
Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'
This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?
Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'
Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?
But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.
No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.
(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)
He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -
Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'
Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -
Oh. Oh fuck.
(1) new photo
You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.
It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.
So you had liked what you had seen.
Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'
Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-
Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'
Oh, he won't.
(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)
...
DC Titans Masterlist
512 notes · View notes
inthedoghousern · 3 months
Text
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settle down
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: lando has always been a good friend of your brother, so you know he's off limits, but sometimes you just can't help yourself. guess you'll never learn. inspired by "settle down" by the 1975.
contains: 18+, cursing, alcohol/drinking/smoking, suggestive content (make outs!).
4.4k words
a/n: ok let me clarify: loosely inspired. this isn't reallyyyyy the 'storyline' of the 1975's settle down, but that's okay!
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You're wearing your hair down and it slightly covers your face as you go to answer the knocking coming from your front door. When you open it, you're surprised to find your brother's best friend standing there. 
"Oh, you're early, no?" You ask, puzzled, while pushing your hair behind your ears. You knew your brother was throwing a party tonight, but that was in a little bit, and your brother wasn't even home at the moment. 
"He told me to come early to help set up. Whatever that means," he answers. 
"Not sure if he knows that because he's not here," you tell him. Your brother is an idiot. "Well come in I guess." You shrug and move to the side, motioning Lando in. 
You didn't really mind. Of course, you and Lando were friendly, considering he was so close with your brother. When you were younger you even hung out with the two of them a lot. As you got older, their racing and your school stuff just caused the friendship between you and Lando to be more casual. And it was fine. Sometimes schedules would work out and Lando, your brother, and you would cross paths. But for the most part, you just followed his life online like everyone else. 
Though you had to be honest, back then, Lando didn't seem to have much of an effect on you, but now as he stands in front of you, you feel a lump forming in your throat. When did he get so good-looking?
You don't know what has come over you as the two of you enter the house. You feel like falling all over the place. You two make your way to the living room and sit on the couch. It's silent for a moment before Lando speaks up.
"Where even is he?"
"Pretty sure he's stocking up on drinks for tonight. I don't know why he wouldn't have waited to bring you, or just like, tell you to come later." You shake your head. 
Lando laughs and shakes his head too and the silence returns. 
Now you ask a question. “Hasn't been just us in a while, huh?”
“It's been a minute.” Lando chuckles along with you, the silence now slightly less awkward.
You lean back on the sofa. “So how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” you ask with a smile. 
“I’m good, I’m good. Honestly, nothing too interesting going on.” He shifts on the couch.
The two of you sit in silence again, until Lando speaks up. 
“You're staying for the party, right?”
“Yeah. Thought I’d stick around this time.”
Lando tilts his head to the side. “Is that so?”
Your stomach does a flip. You try to shake away the thoughts entering your mind. He’s your brother's best friend, you've known him for years, you need to relax. 
“Mhm,” you hum in response. 
Lando looks down for a moment and then over at you. 
“When’s your brother getting back?”
“Not sure.” You open your phone and check his location. As you look away, Lando eyes wander to your neck, then your torso and legs, then your lips, all in the span of a few seconds as you sit on the couch next to him. He had spent countless hours with your family, sat and talked with you many many times. What a familiar face yours was to him. But today he couldn't help but notice something had changed between you. Was it all the time you had spent a part? Or maybe the fact that he's finally seeing you in person and not through a screen. Lando would never admit it, but lately he tended to linger on your social media posts longer than he should.
Lando meets your eyes again when you look up from your phone.
“Yeah, I have no idea, looks like he's still shopping. Do you want me to ask?”
Lando shrugs, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 
“It’s alright, I was just asking.” He leans back again, stretching his arms over his head as he does.
You can’t help but look at the exposed skin of his stomach when his t-shirt rises. Your eyes glance down, but you look away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. 
But Lando does notice your brief glance down and back up again. If you could see his expression, you’d notice it’s a mixture of amusement, and something else. He doesn’t say anything though. Instead, he leans forward, speaking slightly softer. 
“You know, I've missed seeing you.”
You can feel heat rising up the back of your neck. Still, you feel a smile tugging at the sides of your mouth and now the two of you are making eye contact. “Oh really?”
Lando can feel your breath on him. He lets out a small breath himself, letting out a shaky laugh. He looks you deeply in your eyes and brings his arm to the back of the sofa behind you. 
Time seems to move extremely slowly. The atmosphere is charged, your eyes locked on to one another. Lando holds your gaze for a moment, waiting to see if you have anything more to say. 
You lean towards him. He feels you press yourself against him. The two of you are so close together, you can feel Lando’s body heat rising, his muscles tightening.
He leans forward, brushing his lips against yours very softly.
You kiss him back. As you do so, Lando gently moves his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to him and you wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss continues and grows much more passionate. You feel Lando’s hands moving up and down your back, the two of you fully enveloped in one another.
Your position shifts, and now you’re sitting on his lap. Still connected in your kiss. 
Lando’s mouth moves along your jaw, “Fuck Lando,” you breathe out as he kisses your jaw and neck. Your hands are buried in his hair. 
Your words bring a small chuckle from him, and he smiles into your neck. He's finding himself so fixated on the girl with the soft sounds. Her hair all over the place. 
You're also fixated on this boy. Lando Norris. The guy you've known your whole life. The guy who's best friends with your brother. The guy who was off limits. He isn’t supposed to be the guy to make you feel like this, and yet, here you are, on top of him. 
Lando’s hands slide under your shirt as he continues to kiss you. 
The feeling of Lando running his hands all over you and his suffocating kisses are almost enough to make you forget where you are. Who you are. Almost. The illusion breaks when you hear a sound from outside. 
A car door shutting. 
The two of you freeze. As one, you both turn your heads. The sound is followed by footsteps. Heavy footsteps. 
It’s your brother.
“Fuck,” you laugh, panicking. You quickly slide off of Lando. 
“Goddamnit.” Lando shakes his head with a smile and sits back. 
You’re both a bit of a mess. You two are breathing heavily and you're flushed. Your hair disheveled. You’ve just barely finished fixing yourself when you heard your brother’s voice from the front door. 
“I’m back.”
“Hey!” You clear your throat. “Lando’s here." 
“Thought so, I saw his car in the driveway.” Your brother steps into the living room, a bag in his arm. 
“What’s up man,” Lando gets up. “You got more stuff in the car?” He asks your brother. 
“Yeah a few more boxes,” he responds. 
“Alright let me help.” They walk back outside together and you lean back on the couch, looking up and covering your face with your hands. 
You sit there for a moment, feeling a bit shaken. You feel a little dirty almost? But you can’t stop thinking about the way Lando kissed you.
You let your hands fall to your sides before the two of them walk back in. Your brother sits on the couch and Lando sits in a chair across from you. Just a few feet away. It’s like nothing happened. You know he can't be found with you.
Luckily, your brother is completely oblivious. 
“People should start getting here in like an hour,” he comments. 
You get up from the couch. “Alright, I’m gonna get ready then. See you guys later.” 
You rush upstairs and shut the door. Your heart is pounding, and you’re still in disbelief. As you lie down on your bed, your mind races with everything that just happened. 
You cannot let your brother find out.
He would probably kill you, or kill Lando. 
No, he’d kill both of you. 
-
You spend more time than you should getting ready, but you’re hoping to calm down a little. Eventually, you start to hear music from downstairs, and the bass shakes your floor. You also begin hearing the sound of voices and laughter as your brother greets people at the door. 
You take a deep breath as you look at yourself one last time in the mirror. Now or never. Just avoid him. 
You walk down the stairs and are immediately met with 'hellos' and 'heys' from different directions. You greet as you weave your way through the house, and finally, you get to the kitchen. You beeline to the fridge, getting a drink. 
“Hello helloooo,” you hear from behind. When you turn around you're met with your best friend. 
"Hey!" Her arrival is a breath of fresh air after feeling so out of sorts with Lando. She gives you a big smile and hugs you tightly.
“Thank god you’re here,” you say as you pull away from the hug. “Get a drink and then we need to talk. It’s important.”
Your best friend gives you a curious look, raising her eyebrow at you in surprise. She glances around for a moment and then back at you. 
“What is it? Is something going on?” People are in and out of the kitchen around you two. The house is getting busier and busier. You look around quickly and then whisper in your friend’s ear, “It’s about Lando.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers, a look of excitement in her eye and concern as well.
“Yeah, I know. Now get a drink and let’s get outside or something,” you laugh. 
“Are you being serious? Did you fuck Lando?” She leans in closer as if she doesn’t believe what she’s hearing is real.
“Shush! Oh my god come on.” You pass her a drink and grab her hand, pulling her behind you. 
Though, as you try to exit the kitchen people are also walking in, causing a bit of a standoff. And of course. It’s Lando and your brother. 
“Hey what’s up!” your brother greets your best friend. 
Out of you four, your brother is the only one who is out of the loop on the current... situation.
Lando directs a nod toward your friend but soon looks back at you. You're staring back. 
“Hi nice to see you both I was just going out for a smoke talk to you later goodbye," your best friend quickly rambles to the two boys, and then you both push past out of the kitchen. 
You can feel Lando's eyes on the back of your head as you go out the door.
-
You sit on the porch and she lights a cigarette, taking a drag, and then turning to you, “I can’t believe it. You’re not fucking with me right?” She says laughing. 
You laugh and put your head in your hands. “I’m being so serious," you mutter but then look up again. "But we didn't sleep together. It was just a... heavy makeout...? That got interrupted."
She starts laughing and you laugh with her, the two of you in disbelief. 
“Dude you can’t just hook up with Lando! Oh my god, your brother is going to freak out.” She says, still laughing. 
“I know. He cannot find out.” You smile and take a sip of your drink.
Your best friend looks at you over her cigarette, “…well, I mean, was it good?”
"It wasn’t bad…” you trail off with a grin. Your best friend smirks as you speak, raising her eyebrow and laughing out loud. 
“It wasn’t bad.” She repeats, and you can hear the amusement in her voice. 
“You’re a mess.” She says, and the two of you burst out laughing as if it’s not a big deal at all. She's right, you are a mess. You're avoiding him and yet wondering if he's talking 'bout you too. 
The two of you keep talking and drinking on the porch until your cans are empty. “Alright,” you say slapping your knees and standing up. “We should be social, and I need another drink.”
“You would be right," your best friend says immediately and gets to her feet. You’re relieved to have her with you, maybe she’ll help you keep your mind off of Lando and what just happened. And getting another drink wouldn’t hurt either. 
“C’mon.” Your best friend pulls you away from the porch and the two of you reenter the party.
-
You're back in the house and the night resumes. You have fun for a bit, talking to your other friends, drinking, and doing some shots. You know Lando is here somewhere, but you don’t know where and you don’t really care. Don't want to care at least. 
At one point, your best friend pulls you aside again, “I’m gonna have another smoke, you coming?” she asks. 
“Yeah sure, I could use some air.” You two go outside again. It's gotten later and you're feeling the cold air prickle against your skin. 
She lights her cigarette as someone else from the party comes out, and they light up too. The three of you talk for a while, but you're starting to feel too cold, and you're the only one not smoking. 
“Hey, I’m going back in,” you tell her. She nods, “Cool, I’ll see you inside later, I’m gonna chill out here for a bit.” 
You head back into the party, and once again it’s crowded: people are moving between rooms, there’s music blasting, and you can smell the liquor in the air. 
You're pushing through bodies as you walk through the living room. You pass someone and the two of your arms collide hard. You go to mumble a 'sorry', but you stop yourself when you see who it is. 
Lando. You both pause. 
You feel the heat coming off of his body and your chilled skin from the night air touches against him. You're cold and he burns. You shiver, unsure if it's from the temperature outside or the man standing in front of you. 
“Cold?” he asks leaning close so you can hear him over the music. 
You laugh, “I was just outside. Won’t take long to warm back up in here though.” 
He smiles slightly at you and nods, but the look in his eyes reveals he knows there’s more to it than that. 
You can still feel the heat coming off of him, and you don’t know how to avoid it. You’re trying to block out the memories of what happened in this living room earlier, but it’s pretty obvious the tension between the two of you is still there.
“Wanna go get another drink?” he asks. 
There’s a part of you that knows you should say no, but there’s also a certain adrenaline rush that courses through you in his presence. He doesn’t seem to care about the circumstances, and he’s actually making this interesting.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Let’s get a drink then,” he says, grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards the kitchen. You walk ahead as he follows with his hands on your shoulders. The sensation of him holding you makes your heart race, you feel like his touch could burn a hole right through you. 
You get to the kitchen and Lando lets go of you, making his way to the fridge, grabbing you both drinks. You sit on the counter as Lando stands in front of you with his own drink.
You take some time to just look at him, your eyes locked on his, and he looks right back at you. There’s this air of tension between the two of you and despite neither of you outright acknowledging it; you both know. 
“Having fun?” you ask him, taking a sip of your drink. 
“Yeah, I’d say so,” he teases you, taking one step forward so that he’s standing closer than he was before.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes, I am,” you say looking down at him from your position on the counter. 
“Good.” 
It’s such a simple word, but the way he speaks it is almost provocative. Everything about him right now is like that.
You both sip from your drinks, and he’s so close to you that you feel like you could lean forward and kiss him without moving. The idea has you feeling a bit dizzy.
You don’t say anything and neither does he; everything between the two of you is so intense, so silent. You're losing your words. You two are speaking in bodies. 
You break the eye contact and don’t say anything as you put your drink down and get off of the counter. You and Lando are nearly pressed together for a moment when you get down, but you move to the side and start leaving the kitchen. 
Confusion is all over Lando’s face, he turns as you walk by. 
“Where are you going?” He laughs as he starts to follow. 
You start moving through the party to the stairs, and you don’t look behind you to see if he’s following. You know he is. As you get to the staircase you start climbing up and Lando's nearly on your heels with every step you take. 
When you reach the second floor and it’s dark and quiet. You open the door to your room and walk inside, Lando is right behind you as you do so. You enter the room and hear Lando closing the door and clicking the lock. The party is downstairs, and up here it’s a different world. 
You and Lando stand there for a moment, and the silence is deafening. You both know why the other came to this room and in the low light, he moves closer to you. 
You can feel his hand wrap around your waist slightly and he pulls you towards him. Lando smiles softly as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and your body is pressed against his. 
“You know…” he whispers to you, “I really would like to finish what we started earlier…”
“Or is the idea of your brother being downstairs too much?” he whispers softly, as his hands move to the small of your back, holding you gently and close to his body.
The air seems to be hot as you press yourself against Lando. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, the heat coming off of his body as he leaned his own against you. 
“I love the guy but I really wish he wasn’t here. Or that anyone was here,” his voice almost a whisper, “but I guess that means we have to be really quiet…”. 
You smile and shake your head, “I guess…” your eyes are flickering from his eyes to his lips. You shouldn’t want this, but you really do want this. 
Lando smiles back, his hand trailing your back slowly. It’s a tease and you know it. His one hand starts to move up your back, making its way towards the back of your neck, and he brings his free one to the side of your face. Your arms are still wrapped around him. He traces his fingers along your cheek slowly, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. 
Your bodies are close together and you can feel their heat against each other. The air is thick, and you know what needs to happen next.
You both lean towards each other and meet in the middle, finally tasting each other again. The kiss is filled with passion and you can feel his lips on yours, his tongue meeting your own.
Lando deepens the kiss and you're pushed back into the door. Pinned between his body and the wall. He doesn’t break the kiss and his hands slide down your body, moving down to your hips. 
Lando starts kissing down your jaw and neck again. There is an ease about the way he moves now, he can take his time now that you're behind closed doors. 
He makes his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. The feeling is electric as his hands rest on your hips still, his touch is soft and tender as he moves his lips back up and kisses you again on the lips.
The feeling of your hands in Lando's hair makes him grin against you. Your kiss becomes more passionate as you pull his hair, and you can feel touch of his hands beneath your shirt. Fingers against your skin. Your mind is hazy from the kiss and the alcohol but you let the feeling wash over you. 
He tugs at the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. 
You break the kiss finally and breathe in the heat of the room. With your shirt removed his hands trail the bare skin of your back and sides, and his lips trace your neck.
The heat is so intense it makes your body feel like it has a mind of its own.
You lightly push him off, towards the edge of the bed, with a laugh. He laughs with you and goes along with your push, sitting down. You see that he has a smirk on his face, and as you look him over he leans back on his hands and continues to watch you. 
The air is tense with a build-up of tension, waiting for the next move.
You stand in front of him and grab both of his arms, lightly pulling them up above his head. Lando chuckles softly at the move, and with your help, he lifts his arms fully to keep them there. 
You pull the shirt off of Lando slowly, revealing his bare chest. You can see his muscles twitch slightly from your touch.
When the shirt is tossed, Lando’s hands rest on your hips again, bringing you closer and pulling you down on top of him. 
He's watching you with half-lidded eyes, a soft smile on his face, and his hands slide up your sides and your back. The feeling is intoxicating, you feel your breath coming quicker and quicker as Lando’s hands make their way up your body.
You kiss him again, hands grasping his shoulders. Your bodies are pressed together and the heat of the moment is too much to resist. You can feel Lando’s hands all over you, caressing your shoulders and neck, and playing with your hair.
He groans as you grind against him, and he lets one of his hands move to the small of your back to pull you closer to him. Lando wants more of you.
Then
Suddenly someone is trying the door handle and there's knocking. You and Lando quickly break away from the kiss. For crying out loud. 
“For fucksa-“ Lando starts but you slap your hand against his mouth. 
“Settle down,” you mouth at him. 
“Hey, are you in there?” You recognize your best friend's voice from the other side of the door. You can feel Lando smiling into your hand. He shakes his head and leans into your shoulder. 
You clear your throat, “Yeah I’m in here!” you answer. You hear Lando chuckle softly but he keeps quiet as he is pressed against your shoulder. 
“Are you alright?” your friend asks from the other side of the door, “I’ve been looking downstairs for yo-”
“Yeah I’m alright” You interrupt. 
“Okay, well….” you hear your friend hesitate for a moment, “...wait. Shut the fuck up.” You hear her familiar laugh. 
“Do you have Lando in there with you?” she asks, her voice sounding louder, she must be closer to the door now. 
This question makes Lando laugh out loud. You hit his chest. He was the one who was saying we had to be 'so quiet' and now he just confirmed his presence.
You can hear your best friend laugh as well on the other side of the door, and you know she won’t stop until she hears you answer the question. 
“Yes, I do," you admit, “Now go away!”
Your best friend laughs even harder outside. “Alright alright. Bye. Bye, Lando. I’ll try to keep your brother away too, you're welcome!” She finishes and you can hear her leave. 
“She knows?” he laughs against your ear, “I thought this whole thing was secret…”
“Shut up. Be happy it was her at the door and not you know who,” you joke. 
Lando grabs your hips and lifts you off of him. In a few swift motions he has you lying on the bed and he’s on top of you. He leans down and kisses up from your collarbone to just under your ear.
“If we get interrupted one more time…,” he trails off into your ear and then pulls away looking at you. His face right above yours. 
You shake your head smiling, you run your hands through his hair looking up at him. 
Lando smiles back at you. You can see the desire in his eyes. 
You can still feel his breath all over you from his kissing just moments earlier. Your skin is sensitive from the heat, from him, and you feel a wave of goosebumps run up your body just from his touch. 
Lando leans forward and the two of you kiss again.
The bass from downstairs vibrates through the floor and drowns out the music, the voices, the party. 
Your head is spinning. This is so wrong. But also it feels sort of right. Whatever was happening between the two of you was going to make your life chaotic. But even so, the same thought keeps running through your head…
Now I just can’t stop myself around you. 
839 notes · View notes
xhoneygirlxx · 8 months
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Love To See Me From Your POV
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rockstar! Eddie Munson x wife! reader
summary: Seeing Eddie on the road for the first time should be an exciting moment but when your insecurities rise, you wonder if this is the life you were cut out for.
warnings: angst. reader is insecure: mentions of self hatred and low self-esteem. Eddie and Reader are both in their twenties! Rockstar Eddie. Eddie does call groupies gross. mentions of rough marriage. Eddie and reader fight! slight cheating accusations. fluff. Eddie is the sweetest husband, reader and Eddie being in love and cute. Smut 18+ Only, Minors DNI!! : mentions of sex with groupies, p in v (unprotected), cream pie, slight breeding kink, slight dom/sub, body worship/praise, oral receiving (reader), fingering, squirting. shit writing and bad grammar. Not proofread!!!!
If I missed any please let me know! *
a/n: Hello my loves, I got a request from @kellyxo1 for this little thingy right here! I hope this is okay and I hope you enjoy! Thank you all again for being so wonderful and lovely to me :) And remember if you ever want to request something, you're more than welcome!
There isn't a booklet on what to do and what not to do when you get married, and there's definitely not a booklet on how to be a rockstar's wife. Married life in itself is a difficult task, but learning the ropes of being married while also dealing with the life of fame was something you or Eddie was prepared for.
Getting married right after Eddie's third senior year was always the plan, two young and dumb freshmen solidifying it with hooked pinkies. Obviously you loved one another more than life itself, but going through the motions of being married at the ripe age of 20 is harder than any fairytale make it out to seem.
It was hard that first year, constantly worried about bills, overtired from working long shifts to pay said bills, and just learning how to live with one another. But in between all the hardships, there were small moments where both of you remembered what it was all about. Eating thirty cent noodles, decorating for holidays, the quiet Sunday mornings where you'd get tangled under bed sheets. The love that both of you hold for one another drowning out every other shitty thing around you.
The second and third year, your whole world flipped upside down. After getting lucky and getting picked up by a big record label, Corroded Coffin was now the hottest new band on the market. You remember the day the boys got signed, how most of them shed a tear of happiness, and how happy your husband looked. A moment in time that was now frozen in a picture that hung on your fridge.
You were so proud of the boys, watching them go from a crowd of seven drunks to recording their own album. There was something so special about being there with your husband for every step, cheering him on from the sidelines every time. When the album finally dropped and the number of sales went up, Eddie surprised you with the keys to the little house on Deer Run Road, the same one that the two of you always fantasied about owning.
Although he worked mostly in LA, he told you he planned on staying in Hawkins where he could still get privacy while being close to the people he loved. You also loved it because you wouldn't have to leave your job at the daycare and your husband would always come home to you.
Now on year four, you were the loneliest you've ever been. Between touring, recording, and everything that comes with being in a band, Eddie has barely home. You can't be mad at him though, he's following his dream all while providing a wonderful life for you. Of course there are nights you'd rather have him in bed with you, reading that old torn copy of Lord of The Rings rather than a phone call, but you're just glad he even has the time and energy to do so.
It was hard for the both of you, many times the two of you cried together, confessing the horrible ache that nestled itself in your hearts. You felt terrible, never being able to visit him because your schedule didn't line up with his. That's when you decided you were going to take a week off, fly to whatever city he was in, and surprise him.
With the help of Steve, who pretty much taught you the in's and out's of flying, and the band's personal assistant, you were able to buy a ticket to New York where CC would be performing their final show. That night when Eddie called you, you were buzzing with excitement and it killed you not being able to tell him.
On the way to Eddie's hotel was nerve racking. What would he think of you? Will he like how you changed your hair? Will he be shocked with how much I changed? You wondered how different he looked since the last time he saw you, the only way you got to see him was through your tv or on a cover of a magazine, and you never know how accurate those things can be.
__
Standing in front of his hotel room was daunting, blood rushing to your ears as your anxiety reached a whole new level. It felt like you never met him before, like he hasn't seen every single part of you or known you since he was a young man. The shakiness of your hands were only getting worse the longer you sat there, you decide it was now or never.
Raising one hand to the peephole, blocking it with your finger so he wouldn't be able to see, you use the other hand to knock on the heavy door.
"Housekeeping!" You disguise your voice the best way you can, making it high pitched and nasally.
Knocking once more, you cringe when you do it harder than before, remembering that he's probably tired from all the travel he's been through.
"Housekeeping!!" Still using the fake voice, trying to soften the blow of your heavy hand you sing the last little bit of the word.
From behind the door you can hear shuffling, yet there was no footsteps heard.
Raising your fist once more, you knock again and this time you can hear him shout something back.
"GO AWAY!" It comes muffled through the door that separates the two of you.
"Good morning, it's housekeeping!!" you cover your mouth with you hand trying to stifle the giggle that fall from your lips, knowing your husband is probably cursing to himself in anger.
Eddie's heavy footsteps and huffing are the only things coming from the room, then the door is being swung open causing the land that was leaning on it to fall dramatically.
In front of you is the man you married, hair messy from sleep, plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, and bare chest on display. He looked so pretty, rubbing his closed eyes with the palm of his hands, pink lips jutting out in a pout, and puffy cheeks.
"I already told you to go the f-" Cracking one of his eyes open to adjust to the harsh light of the hallway, he finally sees you.
"Baby?" His raspy voice in a whisper, like he's questioning if you're real or not. Tired eyes that were once too heavy to open are now bulging out of his head, cartoonish and wild.
"Hi, Teddy." You whisper back, a saccharine smile breaking out on your face.
The air that once lived in your lungs are quickly punched out the moment he lunges towards you, gripping you up and twirling you around. In the middle of a swanky New York hotel, the two of you hold on each other, squeezing tightly to make sure that neither of you will float away in the clouds of a realistic dream.
"My baby, my beautiful girl," You hear it before you see it, the thickness of his sleepy voice does nothing to hide the shakiness. The tears of mourning you, fall from his eyes hitting the exposed part of your neck where he finds solace.
"I'm here, Teddy. I'm here." The dam you've built to hold back your own tears, has finally busted open. The tears of long nights and a cold bed fall onto his warm skin, the one thing you wished to feel once more.
Moving apart slightly, big brown eyes finally meet your own, taking in the imagine of the people they love the most. Teary eyes and stuffy noses, wobbling lips and heavy breathing, two souls reuniting after too much time away from each other.
Planting his forehead to yours, you bask in the feeling of being close. Eddie's warm lips touch yours, a sweet and tear soaked kiss makes you melt.
"I missed you so much, angel." He confesses, the warmth of his breath mixing with your own.
"I know the feeling." You joke and the both of your share a laugh.
"You know," he whispers, forehead still touching your own, "I want to be mad that I'm up at the ass crack of dawn, but you're such a beautiful sight to be woken up to." A gooey smile spreads on his lips and like a yawn, you mimic his actions.
"So you're not interested in housecleaning services this early in the morning?" You question and he snorts at your bad attempt of a joke.
"Angel, you know me better than that." He says and you roll your eyes.
"Now," Eddie lets you down gently, your feet returning to the carpeted floor. "If you don't mind, I would love nothing more than to fall asleep with the sexiest woman in the world."
Leading you into his room, he proves his point by slapping your ass hard. When you turn around to chastise him, you're met with him biting his bottom lip and his gaze still on your ass.
"Oh yeah, I'm gonna have so much fun with you." The morning rasp in his voice is replaced with a husky, lust soaked hunger.
Tossing you, lovingly, on the bed, Eddie pounces on you like a tiger. Attacking you with kisses, you try to push him off as best as you can, weak from all your laughter.
"Teddy, I still have to shower!" You shout causing him to pause over you. Catching your breath, you run your hand up and down his arm softly. "I still have yucky airport on me."
Eddie leans down and licks your cheek and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. "Oh yeah, that's my favorite flavor."
"You're such a dork." You tell him and he only smiles bigger down at you.
"Yeah but I'm your dork, Mrs. Munson."
__
The morning was spent with discovering each other again, not just physically but emotionally. You update him on the kids at your daycare and new Hawkins drama, while he tells you about the antics the boys have gotten into and all the cool stories from this tour.
You missed it, the simplicity of marriage. Even through all the time spent apart is torture, you still find the beauty in the small moments. Like the thirty cent noodles, you enjoy the peace and comfort of whispers passed back and forth a room that isn't your own.
All the bliss you felt from this morning has now been flushed out, now replaced with the roaring waters of doubt. You watch your husband on stage, singing songs he wrote, like you did way back when. This time the crowd isn't just drunk bar patrons, it's beautiful woman screaming his name.
They're all perfect, tiny bodies and big breasts, full hair and flawless makeup. They're everything you're not, everything you never will be. This was the one part of the job you never read about in your how to guide. This was the one thing you forgot to teach yourself about, how to handle millions of woman fawning over your man.
You weren't naïve of course, you knew that the guys had groupies, but you liked to push that into the back of your mind. You trusted Eddie more than anything, you knew he would never do anything to ruin your marriage, but that wasn't the part that had you so upset.
It was the idea of not being good enough that was eating away at you. Like everyone else in the world, you had insecurities. You went through stages with your self consciousness, earning a few battle wounds to your confidence along the way, but over time you became comfortable in your own skin.
This wasn't Hawkins though, this was the big city, and your "small town pretty" is no good here. All of the woman here could chew you up and spit you out, beating you out by miles in a beauty contest.
Your self hatred starts to write over the happy memory of watching Eddie on the biggest stage you've ever seen. Embarrassment fills your body, numbing you from head to toe. You feel so stupid, the clothes you wear are nothing compared to what they wear, you probably look like a clown in the makeup on your face, and your hair is probably flat and dull now.
This wasn't what you signed up for, this isn't in the job description when you sign on to be a rockstar’s wife. You already have to worry about the safety of not only your husband but the rest of the boys too. You worry about Eddie and if he's eating enough, if he's getting enough sleep, and if he's taking care of himself. There is already so much on your plate and you don't think you can handle worrying about the fact that you're not good enough.
The wave of guilt hits you when you look back over to your husband. His beauty is powerful, sometimes it makes you want to cry how pretty he is, and you know deep down he deserves better. Rockstar Eddie Munson deserves a girl that looks like one of them, not someone like you. It makes bile rise in your throat when you think about how he has to watch his friends pick up women from different cities and he has to sit by himself because his old ball and chain is all the way back in nowhereville.
Having a front row seat of your own demise is too much, deciding it would be better to watch on the monitor in the green room. When you're finally alone, it doesn't get any better. The large mirror that hangs on the wall captures your attention, calling to you like a siren to a fisherman.
Taking a seat, you begin to pick apart every single detail of your face. You criticize the shape of your eyes and where they sit, the length of your nose and how the shape sits weird, and how the pores that sit on your skin are way bigger than you remember.
The loud voice in your head pleads with you, begging you to stop before it's too late. "DON'T RUIN THIS" it screams and the demons that have overtaken your mind push it away, not wanting reason to ruin their demolishing.
When the guys enter the room, you realize you've been staring in the mirror for longer than you intended, almost like you were hypnotized.
"What a great fucking show!" Gareth announces as he grabs a beer from the mini fridge in the corner of the room.
"I agree." Grant says as he plops down on one of the leather sofas, exhaling loudly as the adrenaline crashes through him.
"This crowd was definitely the loudest one we've had." Jeff's voice is louder than he thinks. Clapping his hands together, he signals at Gareth to throw him a beer.
"So, what do you two lovebirds plan on doing now that touring is over?" Grant asks, leaning up from his slumped position to look over at you.
Eddie wipes his neck and face off with a towel, stalking over to you with a blissed out look on his face. Leaning down to you, he places a sloppy kiss on your forehead, removing with a loud 'mwah' sound when he does.
"I planned on taking my girl around the city before we head back home." Eddie is still looking down at you, almost like he's questioning you if it's fine with you.
Returning a fake smile, hoping he doesn't notice it doesn't reach your eyes, you nod your head to let him know you approve. A guttural moan pulls your attention to the brown haired boy over who's now sitting on the opposite couch of Grant and Jeff.
"You two are grossly in love, it actually makes me sick." Gareth rolls his eyes and the roar of chuckles ring out in the room.
"You act like we don't have a line of hot ass babes waiting for us." Jeff laughs and Gareth hums as he swallows the sip of alcohol.
"Very true, Jeff. Very fucking true." The boy laughs in agreement.
You know that their comments hold no malice to you but it stings all the same. All you heard was, "Too bad for Eddie, we get to fuck hot girls while he's left with that." It loops through your head, digging a deeper hole, bringing up every bad thought you've ever thought about yourself in the twenty something years you've been alive.
Everyone continues to talk, laughing and joking like they always do and the only thing you can do is get lost inside the storm that tears through your body. The feeling of Eddie's fingers dragging along the skin on the back of your neck has long been forgotten. The voices have all gone muffled, your own demons speaking loudly over them to even try to understand what they're talking about.
"Angel?" Eddie calls and it brings you out of the darkness of your brain.
You hum, craning your neck up to look at him. He's breathtaking, you think, even in the horrible lighting of this dressing room he looks perfect and it crushes you even more.
"You 'kay? Haven't really said much." He says, only loud enough for you to hear, not wanting to bring unwanted attention.
"M'fine, just kind of tired." You shrug. Flashing those pretty teeth at you, he smiles and it makes you sick with love.
"I'm sorry, Angel. I know I didn't give you much time to recover from the flight... and other things." He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a light shove from you.
Leaning down once more, he captures your lips in a loving kiss and a small portion of the tension in your body fades.
"See, I told you! Sickening!" Gareth shouts, his arm stretched out and hand face up, directing everyone's eyes to the two of you.
Bashfully, you shove your face into Eddie's stomach to hide. Draping his one arm on your back, he twists his body slightly to look at the others.
"Gareth, you're clearly jealous I get to kiss my smokin' hot wife." Eddie shouts, and a collection of groans fill the room.
If only you could believe the nice words your husband said.
__
That night in the hotel room, you tell Eddie you're simply too tired to partake in any sexual acts, which he doesn't protest. Laying in the comfort of his strong arms arms, the thoughts are too loud to melt away to sleep. You wonder what Eddie dreams of as you lay awake, if he ever regrets marrying you, and if he wishes he could partake in the same things as the guys. You cry softly, tears pooling on the fabric of your pillow, praying to whoever to is listening to make it better.
The next morning, Eddie is like the energizer bunny when he wakes you up from your four hour sleep. Going to the local diner down the street, Eddie talks about how fun the show was, moving his hands dramatically as he retells you every detail. You try to look interested, smiling and laughing when needed but truthfully you aren't paying attention, you don't even chastise him when he speaks with a mouth full of food.
Afterwards, he shows you around the city and all the sights it offers. It pains you that you can't even enjoy it, too focused on everyone else around you, comparing yourself to every woman that walks past.
Eddie notices, he's noticed since last night but he didn't say anything. At first he genuinely thought you were tired since you never really traveled before, but when you sat across from him at the diner and poked at the food on your plate, he knew. Despite what a lot of people thought, Eddie wasn't stupid. There are many things he had knowledge on and his best subject was you.
He didn't know what was particularly bothering you but he knew all too well. You were in your head about something, beating yourself up about something that wasn't worth the fight, but he knew you could make it out. You always did.
The problem was you didn't fight out of this one. You stayed locked away in the torture chamber that was your mind and let the problem eat you alive. Eddie did everything you always talked about doing, showing you the places you dreamed about and you still didn't crack.
When you returned back to the hotel room, it was oddly quiet. Even Eddie who never stopped talking, was scarily silent. Sitting down on the bed, you started to talk off your shoes, working at the laces slowly.
Eddie stands in the doorway, leaning his body weight on the wall for support. His gaze burns into you, uncomfortably so and you're terrified to even look back at him.
"So are you going to tell me what's wrong?" His tone is serious and it terrifies you.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you meet his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest and his features are harsh, waiting for an answer.
"I told you, I'm tired." You lie right through your teeth and like a metal detector he catches it, scoffing loudly and shaking his head.
"I need you to cut the shit, Angel. What is wrong?" He questions again and it ignites a fire within you.
"I told you, I'm fucking tired Eddie. Sorry I'm not you, I don't travel the world for a living." You snap at him.
"Are you- What the fuck did I do?" He argues back and you sigh heavily. This isn't how you wanted it to go but all the emotion from the past four years are coming out in knife like jabs.
"What the fuck did I do," You mock him. "What did you do? I'll tell you what the fuck you did. You left me, you fucking left me. Don't worry Eds, I'm happy for you, trust me. I love knowing that I'm the old ball and chain back home that keeps you from fucking groupies. But it's fine if you look, just not touch, right?"
When you're done you feel worse than before. Eddie stares at you, frown pulling on his lips and big glossy eyes that stare back at you. God, you want to kick yourself for making him feel like shit. This all could've been prevented if you just talked to him, let him in on what was happening but no, the demons won and they shot Eddie down while doing it. The worst part is, you pulled the trigger.
"Is that what you think?" His voice is small, something you've never heard from him and it breaks your heart.
"Fuck- I didn't mean that. I just-" Closing your eyes, you try to compose yourself but it doesn't work. "I just miss you so fucking much. Last night I couldn't even enjoy the show because all the tits that were on display in the front row distracted me. All I could think was 'how could he want me when all of these beautiful woman are better than me?'"
"So instead of watching the end of the show, I sat in front of the mirror and made a list of every ugly thing about me. My body, my face, my voice, every fucking thing about me is horrendous. Then when the guys mentioned fucking groupies, I felt so guilty 'cause while they're out havin fun, you have to sit there all alone because I'm all the way in Hawkins."
It all comes out like word vomit, laying on the floor of the hotel room, filling the room with the stench. Your ugly truths are now out there, you're so fucking vulnerable and all you want to do is hide.
"Are you dumb?" Eddie's voice brings you out of your pity party. Staring at him in shock, you can see his own tears staining his face.
"Do you realize that it kills me not being with you? Every city we go to, all I can think about is you and how much I want to take you there. Those girls you're talking about, the ones the guys screw around with? Yeah, I've seen them and let me tell you, they're gross." Stalking the short distance, he takes a seat right next to you on the bed.
"Do I get jealous because they get to have sex? Absolutely. It's not 'cause of the girls they bring home, it's cause I wish it were you. So many nights I laid awake, jerking off to the thought of you and it was way better than any fucking groupie could do for me." You snort at his admission, rolling your eyes still not believing. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your attention up to him.
"I'm so fucking serious, Angel. I'm so in love with you, it's maddening. Sometimes when I call you, I can't help but blush like I'm back in the ninth grade again. It blows my mind every single day that I got to marry the gorgeous girl from Click's class." His words are like warm butter, melting over you and seeping into your skin.
"Do you really mean that?" It's meek and unsure, like you're scared of what the answer could be.
"Cross my heart." He simply says, marking an 'X' over his heart with the tip of his finger.
Sniffling loudly, you wipe away the tears that roll down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, Teddy." You say and he hums, resting his forehead on your just like he did twenty four hours before.
"It's okay, baby. Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes." Furrowing your eyebrows at him, he laughs at the scowl on your face.
"Not like that, baby. I just mean, I get scared one of those hot dads are gonna try to pull a move on you when they drop their kid off." Between the serious look on his face and the honesty in his voice, you can't help but cackle.
"Eddie, who exactly would pull a move? Mr. Gardner? He's like forty and wears a very bad toupee." Eddie tries to cover the snort that comes out with a fake a cough.
"Hey, maybe you're into that kind of thing." He simply shrugs and you roll your eyes.
Settling into a comfortable silence, Eddie kisses you lightly and you pout when he pulls away.
"Can I show you how much I love you?" Your eyes scan his face for a moment before nodding.
"Please." That's all he needs to hear before he's placing you on your back, your head being cradled by the soft cotton pillows.
Eddie starts by kissing you, sweet and slow, reminiscent to the time you and him lost your virginities. The only difference about this time is he knows what he’s doing, confident in the way he glides his tongue against yours.
Moving his attention along your jawline, he places small lingering pecks down your neck. His hand moves down the sides of your body, finding purchase on the bottom of your shirt where he tugs softly on the material. Getting the hint, you sit up and help him pull the garment over your head, your bra is quick to follow.
Laying you back down on the soft cotton of the pillows, he continues his journey down your body. Soft lips leaving prints of love along your collarbones and down your sternum, invisible prints of love collect on your skin where they burn bright and settle into your bones.
“My sweet girl.” He trails more kisses around the doughy flesh of your breast.
Finding the hardened nipple, he swirls his tongue around it before pulling it into his mouth, lightly sucking on it before pulling off with a pop.
“My beautiful girl.” Moving his attention to the other breast, he repeats the same motions from before.
Moving down your tummy, he continues to map out his journey, leaving lingering tattoos onto your skin. Finally making it to his destination, he toys with the waistband of your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down.
Lifting your hips, you assist him in taking of the restrictive clothing. In one swift action, he rips off the jeans and panties that once covered you. Feeling exposed and shy, you whimper up at him to get his attention.
“What’s wrong, princess?” His tone is concerned and it makes you pout even more.
Wordlessly, you reach your hand down to grab the hem of his shirt where you yank gently. Catching your drift, Eddie pulls it over his head and let’s it fall to the ground where the rest of your close reside.
“You were feelin’ shy, huh?” You nod at his question and he leans up to press his lips to the tip of your nose. “Gotta make sure my girl is comfy.”
Shuffling himself onto his tummy, he places your legs over his shoulders so he can be face to face with your glistening sex.
Kissing the inside of both of your thighs, you squirm trying to move him to the one place you need him most. Tsking loudly, he looks up at you with a correcting gaze.
“Be patient,” he scolds and you listen, biting back your fussing and fidgeting.
A deft finger runs up your slit, moving your slick around as it does. “This pretty cunt is so miserable, huh? She’s sad without me there to make her feel better.”
Taking two of his fingers, Eddie spreads you open to exposing your core causing you to hiss when the cold air hits you.
A swift lick of his tongue hits you like a bullet train, all at once it’s too much but not enough. A sob leaves your throat when he stops, glassy eyes meeting the dark one of your husbands, pleading with him for more.
“You know,” While the pad of his thumb over your aching clit, he continues to keep eye contact with you, “I don’t like when you talk badly about my wife.”
“The strong, smart, loving, and breathtaking woman I married,” He continues his ministrations, not using his other hand to trace around your hole, “Doesn’t deserve to be talked badly about.”
He continues teasing you, not inserting his fingers into your clenching hole and not giving your bundle of nerves enough pressure. He’s making you sweat it out and you think you might die.
He coos sweetly at you, faux pity on his features as he does. “I know, honey. S’it hurt? Want me to make you feel better?”
“Please, Teddy. Please please please.” Your begging falls on deaf ears though, Eddie just continues his evil plan of torture.
“I’ll make it better,” Putting his mouth close to your cunt, you can feel his warm breath and you shy in relief. Moving away quickly, he looks back up at you and you fight the urge to yell at him. “But first, I want you to say you’re beautiful.”
“Wha- Eddie, no! Just fucking- God, just eat me out already!” You yell and he mocks you by laughing.
“Baby, I can leave you high and dry and be perfectly fine. So unless you want to get yourself off, I suggest you do what I say.” Although you know Eddie would never make you take care of yourself, his threat hits you like a lightning strike. His cool demeanor and stoic tone makes you believe every word he said.
“I’m beautiful.” It comes out in a whisper, so low he barely catches it.
“Nuh-uh, say it louder.” Eddie corrects you and the buzzing feeling over embarrassment burns your cheeks.
“I’m beautiful.” This time it’s louder but you don’t sound convincing.
“I want you to believe it. Want you to be nice to my wife.”
Something about the words being said to you makes your heart beam. All of Eddie’s statements to you have been chipping away at the guarded walls of your mind, casting light on the darkness that overshadows it. You start to believe him, you start to let the positive and loving words bring you out of the insecurities that plague your thoughts.
“I’m beautiful.”
You say it at the same volume but this time something in your eyes let’s Eddie know you believe the words you say. The glimmer of light that disappeared 24 hours ago, has finally returned to its rightful spot.
“There’s my girl.” Dimples flash at you before he dives right into you.
Eddie’s tongue replaces his thumb, adding more pressure to the pulsating spot. The finger that once teased you, is not fully seated in you, curled just right while it pumps in and out of you.
He’s not doing much, basically just warming you up for what’s to come, but something about it lights you on fire. The adoration Eddie has for you is being poured into your heart, lighting your body in a glow that he only manages to bring out of you.
Your moans grow louder when Eddie starts sucking on your clit, another finger shoved inside of you moving in and out in a faster speed than before.
You arch off of the bed like you’ve been possessed, whimpering and withering around making Eddie use his unoccupied hand to push you back down.
“Shit, you’re s’tight.” Eddie’s voice comes out slurred, drunk off of the taste of you.
“You gettin’ close? You gonna cum for me, Angel?” You don’t have the energy to answer, too lost in the feeling of your stomach tightening.
Slowing down the speed of his fingers, you huff in aggravation. Eddie’s voice pulls you back down to reality, your bliss slowly starting to fade away.
“I’ll let you cum if you say you’re perfect.” Lifting up on your elbows, you look down to see him already staring at you.
“Eddie I’m not-“ You’re immediately cut off by him, his tone more commanding than before.
“Say it, or you won’t cum at all. I just want to hear you say it.” He begs, his pace starting to quicken and his thumb now going in figure 8’s on your clit.
You’re quickly hurdled back to the euphoria you were just pulled out of. Eyes rolling around in your head, whining as the string in your stomach pulls tighter.
“I’m, shit- M’perfect. Your perfect wife.” You’re a blabbering mess, head thrashing back and forth in ecstasy.
“I’m gonna cum. Teddy, please!” You beg and he gives you exactly what you want.
“Go ‘head, Angel, let go f’me.” With one last stroke on that sweet spot, you’re catapulted into the paradise of your release.
It feels like you’re floating above the clouds, weightless and free. You don’t feel the gush that splashes your thighs or the sheets, and the voice of your husband is nothing but an angelic voice ringing out.
You return back down to the soft mattress, boneless and melting into the bed. When your breathing calms and you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you’re met with a Cheshire Cat like smile and the soaking face of your husband.
“You did such a good job for me baby,” Kissing you sweetly, you can taste yourself on his lips. Pulling away slowly, you bring your arm to his pants, rubbing your palm along the outline of his hard cock.
Shaking his head, he gently grabs your wrist and puts it above your head. “This is about you, Angel. Wanna make you feel good.”
A quiet okay leaves your lips and he continues to work himself out of his pants, letting his dick bounce out of its confides. Saliva pools in your mouth, the desire to taste him takes over and you whimper.
Chuckling at your pouty face, he moves back between your legs that you parted for him. When he runs the tip of his aching cock through your folds, you both hiss on contact.
Lining himself up, Eddie brings his hand to your hip where he rubs his thumb in soothing circles. Both of you moan in unison when he finally breaches your entrance, a feeling neither of you have gotten used to.
Pushing himself further into you, he takes his time to let you adjust to his size, something you still haven’t gotten used to. He stretches you out so nicely, filling you up like nothing else you’ve ever felt. Nothing can compare to him, every bump and ridge of his cock making it even better.
Lacing his fingers into yours, he hovers over you as he starts thrusting slowly into you. A choir of moans are made between the two of you, singing a song better than anything Eddie’s ever written.
With the way your legs are wrapped around his waist, you try to push him in deeper, wanting to stay this close with him forever. This isn’t just about fucking or getting off, this is about the man you fell in love with all those years ago and how he’s appreciating you. He’s trying to show you just how much his heart yearns for you.
“So good, so fuckin’ good for me.” Eddie pants heavily as he thrusts the tip of his cock ramming into your cervix just right.
“Always so good f’me, Angel. You take such good care of me, such a good wife for me.” He’s babbling at this point, reaching the tipping point faster than he thought.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes, all you can think about is how much love you love each other, how good he’s making you feel, and how he was able to pull you out of the darkness of your horrible thought.
Removing his hand from yours, he snakes it down your body to find you abandoned clit. With the added pleasure, you clench harder around him and the air in your lungs seeps out in a high pitched gasp.
“I can’t wait to fuck my load into you, baby. Gonna get you nice n’ round, show everyone you’re mine. You want that? Want me to fuck a baby in you?” His voice echoes in your ears and travels down into the pit of your belly, getting you closer to the edge.
“I wan’ it, s-so bad, Teddy. Wanna feel it.” You’re babbling, toes curling at you tippy toe over the line of your orgasm.
“F-fuck you sound so pretty when you beg. Come on, Angel, cum for me.”
And just like that, both of you unravel together. Him painting your walls in his release, while you guys around him. Eddie works both of you through your highs, thrusting sloppy and lazily into you until he can’t anymore.
Eddie doesn’t pull out of you right away, not wanting to let go of the feeling so soon. He lays on your chest, trying to settle his breathing as best as he can. Bringing a hand to the top of his head, you rake your nails softly into his hair.
Humming in delight, Eddie kisses your chest as a thank you. A small blip of time in a long year, the kind that makes the bad days all worth it. The secrets whispered in hotels and lingering trail that still burns on your skin, invisible kiss marks left for reminders.
It’s worth it, all the hardships and long months, when you know he’ll always find his way back to you. The sweet boy from 9th grade that promised his heart to you, now sings his undying love to you for thousands of crowds to hear.
More tears leave your eyes, not in sadness but in pure happiness. You’re so fucking in love with him and sickeningly so, just like Gareth said.
Swiveling his head up to you, Eddie rests his chin lightly on your chest.
“Hi.” He says meekly.
Eddie doesn’t question your tears because he has tears of his own and he knows they’re for the same reason.
“Hi.” You parrot back to him, a wet smile adorning your lips.
“Do you believe me now?” Sweet brown eyes pulls you in, sucking you in as they stare at you.
“Yeah, I do.” You reassure and he smiles.
Using his free hand, Eddie takes his finger to trace shapes over your heart. You melt when you feel him draw a heart with your initials and his on the inside.
“I wanted to tell you,” He flits his eyes down to his finger where it doodles on your skin, “the guys and I have a break now that tours over. So I was thinking..”
A pregnant pause settles between his statement and he makes no moves to finish it. It reminds you of the first time he asked you on a date, nervous and fidgety.
“What is it, Teddy?” Lifting his chin with your fingers, you raise an eyebrow to coax him into answering.
“I was thinkin’ maybe we could try, ya know, for a family or somethin’. “ Eddie’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are coated in a pink blush.
Your heart picks up and you know that Eddie can feel it under his finger. Smiling with all your teeth, you cheeks ache from the stretch.
“You wanna have kids with me?” Your voice is only a whisper and he giggles at you.
“Well I don’t know if you noticed but, I just blew my whole load inside of you.” The bluntness of his statement makes your cheeks burn. Slapping your hands over your face, you cover yourself from the embarrassment
“Hey, don’t need to get all shy on me now,” Pulling your hands away from your face, he smiles smugly at you. “If I recall correctly you were the one all like “yes Teddy ugh please!!”.” Eddie mocks you and you roll your eyes.
“Bye the way, I’ve been counting every eye roll since you got here and I promise your in trouble when we get home.” He points and accusatory finger at you causing you to clench around him.
“I love you, Teddy. Thank you.” You place a kiss to his lips and he smiles brightly at you.
“Don’t need to thank me, baby. I’m glad I’m here to remind you.” Pecking your lips once more, he pulls a way with an even bigger smile.
“Also, I love you too, Mrs. Munson.”
-
-
-
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homerforsure · 26 days
Text
Saw the episode. Ascended to a higher plane. Wrote a small Coda that is as messy as my brain is right now. Bone Apple Tea.
"Heyyyyyy Buck!" Eddie answers the phone with a drawn out salutation that proves Tommy was not lying about him being sent away from the hospital with the good drugs. Or, not lying about the prescription, but about Eddie actually taking them. It wasn't so long ago that Eddie would take enough medicine to avoid being in agony, but never quite enough to actually feel relief. He wouldn't do that for Tommy, however close they are. It's something that Eddie's doing for himself. Buck's stomach was a swarm of butterflies three seconds ago, but that and the floaty happy way Eddie still says his name, has him smiling again in his kitchen.
"Hey Eddie. I, um, I'm sorry to call so late. I just wanted to see how- how you were doing."
"Eh, I'll miss a shift or two. But Doc says I'll be ready to go for playoffs," Eddie answers.
Guilt twists through him, harsh and acidic and Buck says, "Well I'm glad to hear that. They say the team doesn't have a chance without you and your, um, sky dunk." Eddie laughs, giggles really, in reply and Buck says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't know why I did that. I mean- I- I know why. I was jealous of you and- and Tommy-" Buck's heart flips as he says his name and he's afraid the kiss is going to come flying out of his mouth and down the phone line- "But I never wanted you to get hurt like that."
"You wanted me to get hurt different?" Eddie asks, still laughing, but Buck feels stricken.
"No! I- maybe. I don't know what I wanted. I lost my mind for a little bit."
"You were jealous," Eddie repeats.
"Yeah, I was."
A long sigh and Eddie says, "I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I was the asshole. I could have- I knocked you out of your shoe."
"Do you have my shoe?" Eddie asks, more focused than he has been the rest of the conversation. Buck can hear him sitting up on the couch.
"Uh, no. No, I gave it to Chim. He's gonna give it to you when he sees you. And probably make about 50 Cinderella jokes."
"Right. He texted me. I remember."
"I'm sure he'll bring it by sooner if you need it. Or he could give it to Tommy." The flush is there again, hot down the back of his neck. Buck doesn't know how he's supposed to do this. Where is he supposed to keep all of this heat and possibility while he waits for Saturday.
"You don't like him."
"Who? Chim? He's growing on me."
"Tommy," Eddie answers in a tone that says duh. "You can't even say his name normal."
Of course Eddie can hear that. Of course he assumes that's the problem after the way Buck has acted since the moment they met the man. He thanks god that he decided to call instead of driving across town and checking on Eddie in person. His cheeks and his ears are burning like fire.
"He can tell, you know. We both can. He said he's going to come talk to you. Gave him your address. Wants to apologize." Eddie must have settled back down on the couch. He sounds sleepier, his sentences getting shorter and more breathy.
"He did. He um. He came by. We talked it out. I told him you guys didn't have anything to apologize for. I was the one who made it weird."
"So weird," Eddie agrees and Buck laughs. "You guys should be friends. He's awesome and you're awesome and we can all hang out together and it would be..."
"Awesome," Buck finishes. He thinks it might be.
"I forgot you don't know that."
"Know what?" Buck asks, when Eddie's mumble doesn't come with any additional clarification. "Eddie?"
"Hmm?"
"Never mind. Hey, you should get up and go to your bed. Sleeping on that couch is not going to help your ankle heal any faster."
"Tommy said that."
"Tommy's right. Come on."
Eddie groans as he sits up, cursing at Buck in what he thinks is under his breath, and asks, "You talked to Tommy?"
"Yeah, he just left."
"And we're okay? You like him now?"
Buck's blood roars through his ears and he wants to throw up and start laughing all at the same time. "Yeah, I think I do."
"Good."
He breathes through the sudden headrush as Eddie grumbles and hops his way off the couch and down the hall. Buck knows where he's finding his handholds by the echo off the walls and he winces when Eddie takes a misstep and swears again. He thinks for a second that he should be there, that he should help Eddie to bed, but Eddie would never let him. Buck wonders if Tommy would let him. He's wondering about so much now and he never did before.
"Hey, Eds?" The question is out before Buck realizes he's asking it, small and vulnerable, and he wants to claw it back and swallow it down before Eddie notices, but he doesn't have a chance.
"Yeah?"
Tommy kissed me. I want him to do it again.
"No, nothing. Just. I'm sorry. I was out of line."
"You were," Eddie answers. "And I forgive you."
Something settles in Buck then. A piece that had still been sitting off kilter and jamming painfully under his ribs. He takes a deep breath, and joy washes fully over him, calming and centering. He doesn't ask the question again though. He thinks he wants to keep this tiny, glowing treasure to himself. At least for a little while.
"Bring me my shoe back and we'll call it even."
Buck laughs, letting the sound ring out through his apartment and he can hear Eddie smiling on the other end of the phone.
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Text
Weekend Mornings || Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant Wife Reader:
WARNINGS: Fluff and a worried Mama O'Hara but nothing bad happens!
SUMMARY: After waking up, you got a little worried when you couldn't find Miguel beside you.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first imagine in a really long time, so there might not be a lot of details but I do hope you like it either way! Also, I apologize if the translations are wrong and please feel free to correct me if they are wrong.
MASTERLIST: Feel free to check out my other works! :)
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"Morning, mi vida," you hear your husband speak gently behind you, before he kisses your shoulder. His hand slips underneath the warm blanket protecting your body from the cold air, gently caressing your swollen belly.
You hum back softly in response, your eyes remaining firmly shut as you refuse to open them just yet, still feeling quite sleepy.
Throughout your pregnancy, you are the type of person who loves to sleep in until nine o'clock in the morning during the weekends, but you can't say the same about your husband who always wake up at dawn. It becomes a small routine for the two of you. As soon as Miguel wakes up, he immediately pulls you into his embrace— if not already or if you had unintentionally moved away from him during your sleep —and spends some time cuddling you while he admires your baby bump. Sometimes, Miguel will even start talking to the baby if he feels them kicking.
As always, you find yourself drifting back to sleep in Miguel's embrace. You're not a heavy sleeper, but the calm silence and Miguel's comforting touch lull you into a peaceful slumber within a few minutes into the cuddle. There is just something about being wrapped in his strong arms that makes you feel utterly safe and content, as if nothing in the world could disturb it.
After an hour of cuddling and making sure you're not on the very edge of the bed out of a fear that you might fall off it because it has happened once and Miguel wouldn't leave you alone for weeks after that accident, Miguel gets out of bed. Knowing you'll still be asleep for a few more hours, he quietly gathers his belongings and prepares to head to the gym but not before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Miguel slipped out of the bedroom after that, careful not to wake you up with too much noise, gym bag in hand.
. . . .
Your eyes slowly flutter open as you stretch your arms to the side, instinctively reaching for your husband, only to furrow your eyebrows when you don't feel his touch and look over to find it empty.
Assuming Miguel was still at the gym, you dismiss the worries of his absence. However, as you take your phone from the bedside table, you realize it was past nine o'clock, a sense of unease appears in your stomach. It was unusual for Miguel to be at the gym for so long since he is always consistent with his routine on returning back home by half past eight. Peeling the blanket from your body, you carefully slide out of bed, a hand cradling your eight-month-old stomach protectively.
Your heart was racing with concern as you quickly check the empty bathroom, finding no sign of Miguel there. You hurriedly went out of the bedroom and down the stairs, your footsteps making loud noises. Hurriedly, you dart out of the bedroom and descend the stairs, your footsteps echoing loudly in the house. As you enter the living room, your senses are greeted by the scent of pancakes and the sound of sizzling from the kitchen.
Instantly, a wave of relief washes over you, calming your worried heart. Despite the scent and the sounds coming from the kitchen, you feel the need to see Miguel for yourself, to reassure yourself of the love of your life's safety. Hurrying to the kitchen, you find him there, flipping one of the pancakes over with a spatula, and a sense of peace settles over you as you realize he's safe and sound.
Miguel looks over to you with a frown. "Mi vida, ¿qué te dije de bajar corriendo las escaleras? Hay tantos casos de gente que se cae por las escaleras y—" he begins in a scolding and worried tone, but it fades into silence as you approach and envelop him in a tight hug. Although confused, Miguel senses your need for reassurance and wraps his arms around you, holding you close and soothing away any lingering worries with his touch.
"I thought something happened to you," you sniffle in the hug and Miguel's grip on you tighten slightly as he immediately understand the reason for your worries.
In the third trimester of your pregnancy, Miguel made sure to minimize his missions, only going on them to assist the trainees or if there was any emergencies when necessary. Despite being relieved of the measures he has taken for you and the baby, the fear of something happening to him during his duties as head of the Spider Society lingers in your mind. You understand and respect his role as a hero, but the mere thought of him sustaining any injury on a mission fills you with dread. A single wound is enough to disrupt your sleep for days, as the concern for his safety weighs heavily on your mind.
"Nothing will happen to me, mi vida," Miguel speaks gently, his voice laced with reassurance as he lovingly strokes your cheek, wiping away the few tears that have escaped down your cheeks. "I promise to do everything in my power to keep us safe and to return to you, always." He swears to you, his gaze unwavering as he looks down at you with a determined yet assuring expression.
You sniffle again, finding solace in Miguel's words. It has a calming effect on your heart, and your breathing gradually turning back to normal. Resting your head on his chest, bask in the peaceful silence that surrounds the two of you. There's no need for words to fill the air as the simple touches between you and Miguel speak loud enough for both of you to understand.
The sweet moment is abruptly interrupted by a burning smell that filled the kitchen. "¡Ay, coño!" Miguel cursed under his breath, remembering about the forgotten pancakes, swiftly moves to turn off the stove before the food has a chance to catch fire.
Grimacing at the sight of the burnt pancakes, Miguel turns to you with a sheepish expression. "Eggs and bacon?" he offers as an alternative since it's one of the quickest meal he can whip up for you.
You hum and nod, liking the idea of eggs and bacon. "And orange juice?" you question, your stomach grumbling in hunger at the thought of the delicious meal.
Your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, but Miguel just chuckles, finding your reaction endearing. "Anything for mi reina." He replies back affectionately, planting a kiss on your cheek before heading to the fridge to retrieve the eggs and raw bacon.
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Translations:
Mi vida, ¿qué te dije de bajar corriendo las escaleras? Hay tantos casos de gente que se cae por las escaleras y— = My love, what have I told you about falling down the stairs? There are so many cases of people who fall down the stairs and—
Mi vida = my life
Mi reina = my queen
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peachesofteal · 3 months
Text
Dead Disco / Chapter 12
Dead Disco masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Explicit sex. Creampie. oral sex - fem receiving. Angst. Crying. So many feelings. Relationship issues. Eating/food issues. Brief suicidal ideation. Toxic behavior. Complicated dynamics. We're getting close to the end. You make a decision
“Knock, knock.” Your coworker hangs on the door frame, fingers clutching a brown paper bag and soda cup. “There’s a truck out front, for lunch. I guess they’re buying every Friday for the rest of the year?”
“Oh, yeah.” You vaguely remember seeing that email. You think.
“Anyway, they’re just wrapping up now and I didn’t see you go down, just wanted to make sure you knew.” She means well, you know she does. She’s always very kind to you, so you smile warmly and nod.
“I did, thanks.” She makes herself scarce after that, vacating your office with another pleasantry, leaving you to stew behind your desk, trying very hard not to look at what you packed yourself this morning, a lackluster sandwich, a cluster of green grapes. The idea of eating turns your stomach, the feeling piling onto the depths of your uneasiness, pushing you to seek comfort.
You can't bring yourself to eat, but you know you have to. You know you should be, aware you cannot survive on the same three half bites of things alone. 
If they were here... 
You glance at your phone.
Stop this. 
You flip it facedown, turning your attention back to your laptop. Focus, you have actual work to do. 
The bath has gone from scalding your skin off hot, to lukewarm too quickly. It urges you to get out, tells you it’s well past time, that if you headed to bed right now, you’d still be able to manage five hours before your alarm went off.
Fat chance. 
Instead, you drain the tub. The porcelain turns to ice within a matter of moments, and you linger in the shiver, languishing in the discomfort, muscles tense, stomach sour. You nearly let yourself rot in it, knees tucked up close, goosebumps long erupted over every square inch of your skin. 
You close your eyes as the tub refills, steaming water rushing out from the tap, slowly covering your feet, then your shins, until it’s deep enough for you to lean back in again, submerging yourself as deep as possible. 
What are they doing right now? Are they working? Are they at home? Do they miss you? Is there someone- 
No. 
You’re not supposed to be… fixating on this. You’re supposed to be taking some time, thinking about what you want, what you think is best for you. This is what you wanted. You decided this. 
You asked for this. 
Why can’t you detangle yourself from them? 
Everything twists and turns inside your brain, spinning together into a murky morass that you can’t make sense of, but it’s nothing compared to the agony in your heart. An infected, weeping, organ that sits heavy inside your chest cavity, now with a giant hole in the middle. 
You don’t even notice when the first drops of water spill over the side, eyes fixed on the ceiling. You picked this rental for the tub. It’s massive, the biggest you’ve ever seen, and the cost to secure it for the entire month was probably more than you could afford on your own, but… it’s not like you haven’t made bad decisions in the past. 
The water sloshes. 
“Fuck.” You flip off the spigot in a hurry and sink back beneath the water, letting it flow over your mouth, your nose. 
You could- 
You could take a deep breath, fill your lungs with water.
You could turn it off. 
You could make everything stop. You could just close your eyes and… rest. 
“Johnny.” You breathe, surprised. Your heart bellows, begs you to fling yourself into his arms, but warning bells go off in the back of your mind, and you chew on your lip. He shouldn’t be here. They agreed. They promised. “What-“
“Ah had to see ye.” What if something has happened? You look him over, but he seems fine. What if something is wrong with Simon?
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing’s wrong-“
“Then why are you here?” It’s harsh. You cringe at the tone, at how it's so caustic, so careless, and he rubs the back of his neck, shifting unsteadily on his feet. Your resolve starts to melt, turning reticent, falling away into a slick puddle of weak opposition. He’s here. He still loves you. He’s here. 
“I know ‘m not supposed to be doing this.” He mutters, and you nod. “But… we- I miss ye darling, miss ye so much.” His cheeks are red, turning his normally tan skin a deep rogue, and he swallows between breaths. “Are ye alright? Ye look… ye look tired, love.”
“I am tired, Johnny… I’m…”
He steps forward.
You step back.  
It’s like you’re looking in a mirror.
His eyes are rimmed in stress, skin beneath them sallow, and he sags in a way that tells you he hasn’t been sleeping, bones and muscles not doing much except keeping him upright. Tears build behind your eyes, and they burn through the tip of your nose until you can’t hold them back anymore, raw agony in the form of a serrated blade cutting through your sense.
“This isn’t fair.” You cry. “Why are you here? You’re not- you’re not supposed to be here, Johnny.” His face changes, spirals through one hundred different things in the span of a second, half of them you can name. He’s still your Johnny, still the same, and you’ve never felt so homesick in your entire life, eyes stuck on the exposed skin just above his collar.
Johnny.
Your Johnny.
Simon’s Johnny. 
“Please… dinnae cry, darling. I’m sorry, I-“
“You’re so selfish.” You don’t know why you say it. It just comes out, flying from your mouth on its own. His head snaps backwards like you’ve struck him, features shifting into panic.
“No, no I’m sorry-“ A spiral swirls, sucking you in, dragging you under, and you shake your head. 
“Just… just… shut up. Please.” You whisper, fingers stretching out into the space between your bodies, tugging on the edge of his shirt. “Shut up.” The demand has more backbone now, and he blinks, confused. You can feel his heat, warm skin and breath vibrating away from his body into yours, tugging you closer and closer as you’re tipping your head back, heart overflowing with an insane, chaotic mix of emotions. You feel like you could fling yourself off the top of the tallest building in this city, and he’d still find a way to catch you.
He'd always find a way.
They both would.
“Darling-“ He's worried, rife with it, imbued with the sense of a logical man, but you don't care. You can't. You're already on a path, already made a decision, anticipated an outcome. And now... you want it. 
Rules be damned. 
“Kiss me.”
“I understand how you feel.” 
“No you don’t!” You turn your back on him, shaking your head. “You don’t, Simon. You don’t know how it felt to sit there and listen to that doctor call Johnny your HUSBAND! How it was to realize you two are married! It was like… it was like I don’t even exist! Like I’m a footnote, in your story.”" 
"We're not, I told-"
"I know what you said. It doesn't change anything. Married in the eyes of your fucking boss and your entire life is as good as being married." 
“You are not some footnote in our story. You are a part of us, love.” You haul one of the blankets off the back of the couch and try to cram it into the duffel. 
“Darling, we dinnae want ye to leave.” 
“Johnny.” Simon hisses, turning to where the other part of your heart lurks inside the bedroom doorframe. “Don’t talk right now. You’ve done enough.” 
“I’m sorry, I said I was sorry, I wouldnae-“ 
“Stop.” Simon snaps, and Johnny breaks, eyes filling with tears, frustrated fingers tearing into his hair before he stomps off, bathroom door slamming so loud it could rattle the entire flat.
Your head hurts. It throbs, pulse banging around under your skin, and the walls are too close, or too tall, everything is too much. You want to sleep. You want to disappear under a heap of blankets and close your eyes. You don’t want to face this, face either of them. 
You should have just kept walking. Should have stayed outside, shouldn’t have come back. Then you wouldn’t have had to do any of this. 
“Don’t cry.” Simon whispers. “Don’t cry, darling, please. It’s alright.” You hadn’t realized you were crying, but when he steps close, tapping his forehead to yours, strong arms holding you tight to his chest, you feel the wet stain on your cheeks, the heaviness of your lashes. 
“It hurts too much, sometimes.” You whisper, and he nods. 
“I know.” 
“Fuck.” Your mug from breakfast tips over, rolling towards the sink, and you vaguely register the brown trickle of coffee that spills over the side.
“I’ll clean it up,” Johnny’s mouth sucks a mark into your belly, shoving the rest of items that sit next to you away, either to the floor or across the countertop, hiking your knee up in their place. “later. Promise.” He’s still working himself lower, biting and kiss and snarling against your skin, strong, scorching hands spreading your thighs so he can bury his face in your underwear.
“Oh-“
“Darling.” He groans, and you scramble, trying to pull them free, trying to push him closer to where you ache, already wet, desperate and out of your mind. You want him to crawl inside you, stitch himself to your skin and devour you whole.
“Johnny, Johnny.” The world vibrates in a million different colors, and you fist his hair, pushing yourself up to his face.
“I’ve got ye. Gon’ make ye feel good, love.” He does. He does every time, and this is no different, the way his hands cup you, the stroke of his tongue against your clit, the way he buries himself as far as he can, eating your twitching cunt as you lay flat on your back atop your own kitchen counter, begging him to make you come.
Is this wrong? Is it? Are you betraying yourself? Are you betraying him? 
Are you betraying Simon? 
It’s too much. It hurts too much.
You need it turned off. You need your entire brain powered down, need to not think or feel or cry about anything for just a second, for a single second of this almost thirty days.
Johnny moves, teeth nipping at your neck, and you meet his lips with your own, panting against him, holding him in your arms just like you’ve been dreaming about.
“I need you.” You whimper, and he nods, a thumb against your cheek. “Please, I- I want… I want you inside me,” your voice hitches higher, delirious, and insane. “Please, Johnny. Please.” Turn it off, turn it off, turn it-
“C’mere, c’mon, love.” He brings you to the edge of the counter, touching you so sweetly, so gently, like you’re a fragile treasure sort of thing, something to be revered, to be cared for.
You’re none of those things. Not now. Not ever. 
It’s a mess, a tangled, fumbled mess of your mouth and his, your hands and his, clothes, teeth, hair. You claw at his back as he frees his cock, one foot on the corner, spread wide for him, and it takes nearly no time until he’s breaching you, heavy hardness pushing into you halfway, his eyes fluttering shut with a groan.
“Bleedin’ christ.” He takes his time, takes it slow, reintroducing you to a feeling that you could never forget, the pressure of his cock notching against your cervix, the fullness and weight of having him seated inside you. It’s so good, like home, like something you could spend the rest of your life with, or the rest of your life chasing, and you barely register the words he is whispering into the side of your face, spit and sweat and tears all running together.
Something's missing. Something's off. Something is missing, it's missing, it's-
“Move… p-please-“
“F-fuck.” He hisses. “Feel so fuckin’ good, darling. So perfect… missed ye, missed ye so much.” He babbles, pinning your hips in place, tendons in his forearms flexing as he thrusts harder and faster, moving your bodies together. “I love ye, cannae live w’out ye, darling. We cannae do it.” His fingers trace around his cock and then to your clit, where he starts to circle and rub the swollen bud exactly as you like it, muscle memory guiding his touch in just the right way, allowing him to drag you to another impending orgasm, cunt clenching down around him. “Ah fuck, that’s it. Squeezin’ me, ye-“
“Johnny.” You cry, and he kisses you, insistently, deeply, sealing you off from any air that isn’t his own, covering you entirely with his body, grinding his hips.
Your orgasm explodes between the two of you, and he shouts when he feels it, clutching you too tightly, chasing his own with a vigor that makes you stutter. Your legs jolt, closing around him, anchoring him, tying him to you, his body going rigid when he fills you with his cum.
Your kitchen is dead silent except for the echo of ragged breathing, sweat dotted skin and shaky hands still languishing together, aftershocks sizzling through your belly.
"Are ye.. are ye alright?" He kisses you, kisses your cheek, your temple, still holding onto your hand, cock still lodged deep inside of you, his cum leaking out between your legs. 
Are you alright? Are you? 
Your chest feels tight, brain desperately trying to catch up, heart bleeding inside your chest.
"Darling? Hey, look at me." He shifts, cupping your jaw and you blink at him, mouth moving without words. 
You wallow there, in the silence, in the little space that exists in this moment, in the in-between. 
Neither of you speak. He pulls back to cradle your face, and you see the tears again, fat ones that roll down his cheeks, illuminating the brilliant blue blaze of his eyes.
What have you done? 
You stare at each other. Realization starts to form, panic fluttering in the ache between your ribs.
Oh. 
Oh no. 
Oh god, oh what did you do, what did you-
The shrill shriek of his cellphone interrupts, forcing both of you to turn to look at the screen that proudly displays the name of the caller.
Simon. 
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24carathoney · 2 months
Text
Dance For You | C.SC | 18+
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Pairing: Seungcheol x FemReader
Wc: 2.5k
Genre: Smut // Established Relationship
Warnings: minors do not interact // reader gives a lap dance // pole dancing // grinding // unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it) // fingering // creampie // oral m. receiving // oral f. receiving // Cheol likes to be deepthroated // I will die on this hill // use of pet names like baby, love, gorgeous
Summary: Cheol finally has some time off work so you put together a little surprise for him.
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You couldn't hide the grin on your face as the sun beamed through the curtains. It's 6 am and you were wide awake, unable to contain the excitement rushing through your being. Seungcheol was still sound asleep as he laid on his back with one arm under his pillow and the other thrown over your waist. You lifted his arm off of you so you could turn to face him, before running your fingers down his shoulder. You didn't miss the way he shuddered in his sleep and smiled. You placed a single kiss to his shoulder blade as your leg swooped over so you were straddling his waist. Your lips left soft kisses down his neck as he began to stir. You figured he was awake when his hand gripped onto your thigh.
“What are you doing?” He chuckled, voice low as he started to fully wake up. 
“Nothing.” You kissed his forehead as he slid your shorts up to rub along the curve of your ass. 
“Doesn't look like nothing.” A chuckle shook his body and you grinned. 
“Got things to do today. Don't want you to miss me too much.” You joked causing the man below you to roll his eyes before sticking out his bottom lip. “You shouldn't pout, your face could get stuck like that.” You smiled before kissing his lips.
“What exactly do you have to do today besides me?” He asked and you shook your head. 
“I'm gonna let that one slide but I can't tell you. It'll ruin the surprise!” You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. His hands traveled up your body as his gaze darkened. 
“Who's pouting now?” You moved to get off of him but he quickly flipped the two of you so you were pinned. His lips pulled you into a heated kiss and you almost forgot you had something to do. You gently pushed him back before moving to slip out of bed and rush to the shower. You looked back and smiled at his frown from you pushing him off. 
“Don't worry. I'll make it up to you later. Promise.”
Your man finally had a couple days off so you decided to surprise him with something special. By the time you had stepped out of the shower he was awake and pouty. 
“Why’d you get out of bed? Stay.” You outstretched your arms and pulled him into your chest. 
“I'm sorry love, I really have some things I need to take care of today so I had to get a head start.” You told him while running your fingers through his hair. You planted a soft kiss on his lips and giggled as he tried to pull you back into bed. “Nu uh. It'll be worth it.”
“It better be since you're denying me cuddles.” He said, turning back over into bed. You quickly clicked the checkout prompt on your screen as the delivery date popped up. The time frame should match up to when he's out walking Kkuma. You jumped around a bit, proud that you haven't let your little secret slip. You grabbed your purse and keys before dashing out the door. You spent your entire morning getting everything you needed. Lingerie. Check. Fruit tray. Check. At home delivery? Check. By the time you got back home, the house was empty and you heard your phone ding. Unlocking your screen you're greeted with a text from Seungcheol. 
The guys wanted to meet up at the park for a little bit so I'm taking Kkuma with me. Wish I got to lay in bed with you a little longer but I'm curious about your little surprise. So I'll see you soon and I love you.
You smiled to yourself before a knock at the door pulled you from your screen. You ran to the door and let the delivery guy inside before leading him to your spare room. “Is this where you want it miss?”
“Yes. This is perfect.”
It only took an hour to get everything settled so when he was finished you signed everything and sent him on his way. Now you stood alone in the room staring at the pole in front of you. You just ordered a new furniture set so everything was where you wanted it to be. Last thing you needed was Seungcheol. You quickly freshened up and looked yourself over in the mirror. The red and black lingerie set you bought fit perfectly and molded into your body just right. You heard him keys at the door and threw on a robe before rushing to meet him. The first thing you did was jump into his arms, legs wrapped around his waist. He was caught off guard but held onto you all the same, letting you kiss him all over his face. 
“Baby I've been outside.” His laughter was music to your ears but those weren't the sounds you wanted from him. He set you on your feet before locking the door when his eyes finally took in what you had on. “What are you wearing?”
“Come find out. Sorry Kkuma, I'm stealing daddy for a minute.” You grabbed his hand and led him to the spare bedroom where his eyes lit up at the pole mounted in the ceiling. 
“What is all of this?” His voice quiet as his shyness broke the surface for a couple of seconds as you gently pushed against his shoulders until he plopped down in the chair. You easily straddled his legs, letting your hand move slowly to the knot keeping your robe closed. 
🎶I just wanna show you how much I appreciate you, yes
“Just a little something something.” Without breaking eye contact you let the silk fabric slip off your shoulders and onto the floor and he let out a low guttural groan. Seungcheol wasted no time grabbing onto your hips wanting you as close as possible. You took his hands and kissed his palm before dragging his hands over your breasts and hips. His pants instantly became way too tight as you allowed him to touch you. His eyes hazed over when you got off of him to turn on the speaker. 
Wanna show you how much I'm dedicated to you, yes🎶
You swayed your hips to the music as he felt the air leave his lungs. His eyes glued to your hips as you inched closer to the space between his legs, which he opened further on impulse. You stopped only a few inches from his touch as your hips moved in sync with the beat. Letting your hands run over your body you wondered what was going on in his head. His bottom lip was wedged between his teeth and you dragged your hand down his cheek before kissing him softly. He moved to pull you into his lap so you moved away back towards the pole, where you spun around with a smirk on your lips. 
🎶Tonight I'm gonna dance for you, oh-oh
Tonight I'm gonna dance for you, oh-oh🎶
You put the skills you learned in that pole dancing class to use as you spun around before getting on all fours and arching your back, putting your ass on full display for the man behind you.
“Fuck me…..”
“Oh I plan on it.” You grinned moving to sit in his lap once more, but this time your back was to his chest letting you twist your hips over his crotch with your head leaning on his shoulder. Wanting to feel him against you, you started to push down with a bit more weight as you  grind your hips down on his dick, pulling a sinful moan from him. His hands danced up your body and grabbed at the flesh of your breasts, grazing your hardened nipples as his fingers slid under the hem of the lace fabric. You placed your hand over his as he squeezed and pinched everywhere his hands went making you moan out every touch. The bra was becoming nothing but an obstacle in his way and a low growl bubbled in his throat.
“Take it off.” He demanded before turning your head and taking your lips in a kiss while you reached behind you to run your fingers through his hair. You repositioned so you were face to face as you slowly dragged your hand down the crease of your cleavage. You reached behind you to undo the bra clasp letting it fall between your bodies. He immediately latched onto one of your nipples, letting his tongue roll around the hardened bud. Your head lulled back as a soft moan left your lips as your body tingled each time he gave a harsh suck. Your arousal now dripped down your thighs as you clenched around nothing, wishing his cock was pounding in and out of you instead. But you wanted to make him feel good first. You were breathless as he pulled you flush against him, his erection now pressing into your throbbing clit. The lyrics of the song reach your ears while your other senses are clouded in lust.
🎶I'll be rockin' on my babe, rockin', rockin' on my babe
I'll be swirlin' on my babe, swirlin', swirlin' on you babe🎶
“Seungcheol……the song.” 
“Fuck the song.” You bit your lip as you stood to rid yourself of your panties but he grabbed your wrist to stop you before reaching for his phone. “Pose for me real fast.” You shook your head and a giggle rocked your being as you glanced over your shoulder, giving him a loving stare over your bare shoulder. You heard the shutter click before he tossed his phone and pulled you in by the back of your knees. “Remind me to have you do a photo shoot for me next time.”
You ground your hips into his lap as your make out session grew hotter and heavier. You kissed his jaw. Then his neck, as you helped him out of his shirt as before finding his lips again. His breath was hot against your lips and you felt your panties stick to your pussy. You smiled against his lips as you slid off his lap to the space between his legs without breaking eye contact. You undid his jeans letting his dick spring out of his boxers. His head fell back against the sofa as you dragged your tongue along the bulging vein up to his tip. 
“Fuck.” You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, bobbing your head while his fingers tangled in your hair, gently pushing you further down. You knew what he wanted. You relaxed your throat as you sunk down to the base with your nose pressed into his pelvis. “Fuck that's it.” You came up for air before you were back on him taking his cock as deep as it can go. His hips thrust upward, hitting the back of your throat and you fought the urge to gag. If you kept up he would cum soon and he didn't want that. No. He wanted to be inside you when he came. Get you nice a full. He stopped you and held your chin with his warm hand. “Come here gorgeous.” 
You stood to your feet and let him drag your soiled panties down your legs and he groaned at the sight. He hasn't even touched you and yet your pussy was drooling. Like you were enjoying this just as much as he was. Pulling you onto the couch he moved to stand over you, rubbing his cock along your slit teasingly. You jolt in anticipation each time he brushes against your clit and he smirks, enjoying your reaction.
“So fucking wet. Always so ready for me.” He muttered as he slowly pushed past your folds. Your moans became nothing short of pornographic as you welcomed the delicious stretch. His hips started to stroke into you and your eyes rolled back as you hooked your leg around his waist. His thrusts started to speed up to match his need to cum as he looked you in the eyes. He loved how fucked out you looked. It only fueled the desire in his soul even more. That hungry desire burning deep within your gut as he casually rearranged them. He felt a shiver run down his spine as you clenched around him, your body letting him know you were about to cum. “Is my pretty girl gonna cum? Cum all over my dick?”
“Yes! Yes..fuck Seungcheol….I'm so close.” The song was long over but all you could think about was the way this man was about to yank an orgasm from you. Between his thrusts and the hand between you you were about to explode.
“Then cum. It's the least I can do since you gave me such a good surprise.” He grunted as his words molded with the sinful sounds of your bodies slapping together. He left light kisses on your calf as he held your ankle over his shoulder while rubbing quick circles around your clit. The new angle had him hitting that one specific spot so deliciously. Each thrust sends you further and further in euphoria leaving you unable to form words. “Let me thank you properly for my surprise. I'm gonna fuck you full of my cum.”
You did your best to moan out as he continued to push into your tight hole. “Fill me up Seungcheol. Please, I want it.” 
“Of course you do. So fucking good. Fuck.” His praises morphed into a low groan as he felt your pussy start to flutter around him. You grabbed onto his wrist as you started to cum, clenched down hard to keep him from moving, but that wasn't enough to stop him as he fucked you through your high while chasing his own. With a couple more thrusts he stilled as he shot ropes of warm cum deep inside you, coating your walls in white.
“Oh my god.” You whined as he stared down at the white ring forming at the base of his dick before slowly pulling out of you, watching in satisfaction as his cum poured out of you. He leaned down over you to pepper a trail of kisses down your jaw and neck before lifting you up bridal style. He ran you a bath and the two of you washed each other of any cum and sweat residue left behind before slipping into bed. You laid there with your head on his chest as he rubbed your back, rubbing circles with his thumb when a thought crossed your mind.
"Damn I forgot the fruit tray!" You whined and his chest vibrated from his laughter at your sudden outburst.
“That's alright, we can enjoy it later. Thank you for today baby. It was amazing.” He kissed your forehead and you lifted your chin to kiss his lips instead. He parted your lips with his tongue and you slipped on top of him with ease. Before you could say anything his hands smoothed over your ass and you lined him up with your slit. He raised a curious eyebrow when you bit your lip. 
“You're insatiable.” You grinned before he pulled you down to the hilt and you threw your head back, leaning your hands on his chest. 
“Yeah but so are you.” You stated clenching around him more than ready for round two. 
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