#Am I sounding too bratty in this lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koqabear · 8 months

Text

chulo

♫: Chulo Pt. 2, Bad Gyal

"Your hermit of a roommate finally decides that he’s had enough of your attitude. And of your constant assumptions that he’s never felt the touch of a woman. "

taehyun x fem!reader

Genre: pwp, roommates au, smut, enemies to lovers if you squint, ft. wingman jjun

Word count 11.4K

warnings: barely edited and barely any plot mwah, use of drugs (weed) and alcohol; mentions of the mc getting drunk (not during any of the smut), jealousy

smut warnings: sub!mc, mean dom!tyun, strength kink !! bratty mc and brat tamer tyun, high sex, shotgunning, degradation, praise, pain kink, spanking, hair pulling, thigh riding, begging, pet names/name calling (slut, baby, princess, pretty/good girl, etc.) manhandling, brief choking, mentions of safeword (it’s not used though), brief marking, biting, oral, (f. rec), face sitting, tyun is a literal pussy fiend. fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, tyun is thick and big yawnnn what else is new, dumbification maybe, slight humiliation (kink? maybe.),breast play, scratching, possessiveness, creampie (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

(lmk if i should add anything lmao)

Notes: just leaving this here to remind u guys that i am the least sane solomon on this app. i actually only wrote this for myself but congrats u all get to read it too. say thank youuu!

Taehyun was, for lack of a better word, a total goody-two-shoes; always holed up in his room studying, the only times he ever left home being for work, school, or to go run an errand. He was also your beloved roommate.

It was meant to be, really; jumping blindly at the offer your mutual friend Yeonjun offhandedly mentioned, commenting about how his friend was struggling to find someone in order to split rent— “his old roommate moved out, now he’s going broke trying to afford the place on his own.”

And you, in all your bright-eyed and enthusiastic glory, didn’t hesitate to ask for details; one long interrogation later, and you found yourself getting interviewed by the man himself— how you were able to snatch the title of Taehyun’s new roommate is something you’re still unsure of.

Because as far as you’re aware, the two of you couldn’t be any more different.

“You’re going out again?” you hear Taehyun call out from the kitchen, the said man able to hear you approaching from the hallway from the jingling of your jewelry— something he was always on your ass for, never failing to comment how you’re like a walking tambourine with that stupid quirk to his lips— the sound of his voice teeming with judgment only brought about a roll of your eyes, trudging over to the kitchen to send him a harsh glare; you made a point of placing your bangle clad wrists on your hips, the action bringing about another soft jingling.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, raising a brow expectantly; Taehyun seems unfazed by your sudden confrontation, not a single muscle twitching at your accusatory tone— his back remains turned to you, leaning on the kitchen counter leisurely while he scrolls on his phone— at the sound of your persistent hmm? He peeks over his shoulder to meet eyes with you.

“You were out till three yesterday,” he says nonchalantly, only turning so he can properly look at you whilst keeping an eye on the stove, “Is partying all you do?”

You can tell he’s trying to provoke you— but you know better than to fall for it and get angry, already victim to his constant mocking and teasing to realize that he seems to enjoy getting a rise out of you— so you simply roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms over your chest before you’re turning on your heel and beelining back to the door.

“You know damn well…” you mutter to yourself, sneering at the chuckles you’re able to pick up on, “It’s none of your business anyway!”

“Yeah, it kinda is!” Taehyun retorts, but you’re too busy slipping on your shoes and your jacket to voice out a rebuttal— swinging your purse over your shoulder, you’re able to catch his final comment right as you’re slipping out the door; “I’m not making the hangover soup again!”

“Fuck you and your soup!”

You shut the door behind you before Taehyun can get a word out.

☆☆☆

“How are you two still living together?”

The natural light that streams in through the windows and the sound of Yeonjun’s raspy voice is enough to have you wincing with pain and ducking your head down; hot steam from your bowl soothes your skin and puffy eyes, your body still sore from the night before as you sink into the chair with a tired sigh.

“Because as insufferable as she is, she still pays her share of the rent,” Taehyun mutters bitterly, setting down a second bowl of soup before your mutual friend, pulling out the chair across from your as he goes to sit with crossed arms, “aren’t you gonna eat? You were begging me for this earlier.” Your lips automatically go to form a scowl, but your hand still goes to reach for your spoon— because as much as you hated feeding into Taehyun’s big fat ego, you couldn’t deny that he makes some killer hangover soup; you could already feel the tension easing from your muscles from the first bite—- your eyes remained glued to the table, knowing better than to glance back up and catch the stupid triumphant look Taehyun never bothers to hide.

“Fucking insufferable,” you mumble between bites, glancing at the way Yeonjun seems to catch onto your words, shoulder shaking with the soft laugh he huffs out.

“Me?” Taehyun gawks, leaning forward as though to make sure he was hearing things right; neither of you respond, which only serves to make him more irked.

“As far as I’m aware, I’m the one that has to deal with you— always coming back late and drunk as hell—” Taehyun’s pointed glare jumps over to Yeonjun, who simply flinches and averts his gaze down to the table, “you said you’d be watching over her last night.”

“I’m not a baby,” you butt in, ignoring Taehyun’s look of disbelief, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“And yet you’re always asking me to take care of you.”

You shrug dismissively, the last bit of your energy spent as you find yourself no longer interested in arguing; staring down at your bowl, you found that you were so busy trying to ignore Taehyun’s piercing glare that you ended up scarfing down your soup in a haste— standing abruptly, you go to place your dishes in the dishwasher before you’re spinning around and sending Taehyun a bright, innocent smile.

“It’s not my fault you always jump to come help me out,” you coo, wincing at the soreness of your body and the sharp ache in your head as you make your way over to him, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks together, leaning in close to him even as he begins to fuss and swat at your hands angrily, “and you’re just soooo caring and sweet with me— it’s in your nature, don’t lie.”

“It gets tiring listening to you complain around the house,” Taehyun sneers grabbing your wrists firmly and pulling your hands off his face swiftly— the sudden strength catches you off guard, hands falling dumbly at your sides as you can only stare at Taehyun as he continues, cold and aloof as always, “It’s the only way I can get you to shut up.”

“Sureee… sure,” you mumble offhandedly, clearly unimpressed by his excuse as you saunter off to the living room instead, making yourself comfortable on the couch before you’re yelling back to the kitchen one last time.

“Jjunie,” you call, waiting for the muffled hmm? of the said man before you continue, “are we still down for the part next Saturday? Jake’s place?”

“Oh… uhhhm,” he pauses, and you’re sure Taehyun is probably sending him a deadly glare right now, “sure, if you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” you grin, pulling out your phone to look up Jake’s instagram page, scrolling through his feed to get a refresher of what he looks like, the satisfaction of what you see seeping into your voice as you speak, “Partying’s all I do.”

You swear you hear a scoff; it only serves to make you anticipate the weekend a little more.

☆☆☆

“You’re leaving like that?”

Your body is jolting in surprise, the mascara wand in your hand clattering on your desk as you curse in shock— Taehyun stands in your now opened doorway, unable to sense his presence due to the focus you were putting in to make sure your makeup came out perfect— meeting his gaze through the mirror, you frown, nose scrunching in distaste at the way he clearly judges you; your hand reaches for your phone, turning down the music you were playing in order to actually hear him properly.

“Don’t you know how to knock?”

“I tried. I’ve been trying. For the past three minutes,” Taehyun says, ignoring your complaints as he makes his way into your room, coming up behind you as he scans your setup— he ignores the way you continue to glare at him harshly, eyes running slowly over the mess you’ve made before he’s leaning down and reaching across the vanity; you’re pressed back against the chair and left to watch as his arm obscures your vision, hoping he didn’t pick up on the way your eyes glued onto his muscles that bulged slightly as he reached for the charger plugged into the far outlet.

“You never gave this back,” Taehyun sighs, and before you can refute that you were just about to, he gives you a pointed look with that raised brow of his. “It’s been three days.”

“My bad,” is all you can bring yourself to say, picking up your mascara wand again as you go back to applying your makeup carefully— but it’s hard to concentrate, especially with the way Taehyun continues to linger behind you, able to feel his warmth due to how close he is— and you glance over your shoulder, scanning him up and down before you’re turning back to your vanity, “is there something else I can help you with?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What, the whole why are you dressed like that thing? Are you seriously expecting an answer to that?” you ask, putting your mascara away as you move to your lips instead, “It’s nothing new, I don’t know why you’re so fixated on that right now.”

“Nothing new?” Taehyun repeats, and through the reflection of the mirror, you’re able to catch the way he frowns in disbelief and scans you once more. “You never dress like this for house parties.”

“Hmm,” you hum softly, doing your final touch ups before you’re standing abruptly, spinning around to face Taehyun with a pout, “it’s the skirt right? It’s throwing the whole thing off.”

Taehyun watches as you push past him and head straight to your closet; glancing over your shoulder and nodding at him to sit on your bed, turning back around before you can catch the way he hesitantly follows your command— and you’re turning back around with three more garments in your hand, each option smaller than the one before— the sight has his brows jumping briefly.

“I was thinking this one at first— I think the darker denim is cuter though, like this one,” you press each skirt to your waist, peeking at yourself in your body length mirror before you switch to the next option; again, you’re pouting and shaking your head, throwing the first two options aside before you’re turning around to show Taehyun the last option proudly.

“But actually, I think this one is the one— look at the pockets, they’re sooo cute,” you smile, flipping the garment over to show him— and indeed, they’re blinged out and sparkly, just like the rest of you; you hold it against your waist, checking yourself out in the mirror with satisfaction.

“That— that barely covers you.”

“So?” you effortlessly reply, tilting your head and meeting Taehyun’s gaze through the mirror; dramatically, you gasp, mouth falling open and brows rising as you proceed to blatantly mock him, “Oh, is this too scandalous for you? Sorry, I forget you’re a bit more… reserved. It’s okay, you don’t have to stay in here if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You’re biting your tongue as you listen to Taehyun sputter behind you in confusion; through the corner of your eye, you’re able to watch as his brows knit together, leaning forward and tilting his head as he struggles to find a response.

“Where the hell did you get that from?”

“Oh,” you trail off, tsking awkwardly and amping up your dramatics as you pause— Looking over your shoulder, you meet Taehyun’s prying gaze, returning it with a faux apologetic smile. “Y’knoww… Yeonjun told me. About you.”

If anything, that only serves to confuse Taehyun even more— and worry him, if the way he stares off into space, visibly deep in thought, serves as any indicator.

“What did he tell you,” Taehyun mutters, the question more directed to himself as he racks his mind for possible answers— but you beat him to it, continuing your efforts to keep a poker face as you shrug innocently.

“Just… about you. Relationships, experience…” and you’re turning your back to him, muttering the last part and taking in the way Taehyun leans forward even more to catch what slips out your mouth, “or, lack thereof.”

“Excuse me?”

“We were talking about our own stuff and you kinda just came up in the conversation randomly!” you say defensively, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of! It’s okay to shy away from… this lifestyle, or whatever you like to call it— there’s nothing wrong with being your little introverted self, tyunnie.”

You’re provoking him— you’re setting up quite the bait, and it’s working, because Taehyun can only find himself able to gawk at you in disbelief, mouth parted slightly in wonder of it all— your cute nickname flies over his head in favor of processing the fact that you basically just called him a homebody. A virgin.

Just when Taehyun thinks he’s found the words to respond to such an outlandish accusation, your phone dings with a notification— you’re all but bouncing over to it excitedly, hovering over the device and letting out a soft ah! In excitement— sending Taehyun a pleading smile, he’s already able to guess what you’ll ask of him.

“Junie’s here! Can you please please please go answer the door for me? I need to change.” you watch Taehyun hesitate for a moment; he then nods reluctantly, getting up slowly before he trudges out of your room, your words still bouncing around the walls of his mind as you shut the door and yell out a cute thank you! As you do.

Taehyun opens the front door to find an equally flashy Yeonjun on the other side— the sight of his over the top outfit is enough to catch Taehyun off guard and have all his thoughts tumbling out of his mouth without restraint.

“Did you tell her I was a virgin?”

Yeonjun’s brows jump up in disbelief— he’s halting mid step through the doorway, sending Taehyun a confused look before he steps inside and closes the door behind him— looking at his friend for further explanation, Yeonjun is only met with Taehyun crossing his arms with an expectant look.

“Dude. What the hell are you on about.”

“Why is ___ acting like I’m a total prude— saying you told her I was inexperienced,” Taehyun isn’t exactly sure why tonight’s comment was what set him off— you’ve been like this for as long as he could remember, always portraying Taehyun as someone pure, innocent, and stuck-up— he always thought you were joking, but as it turns out, that might not be the case.

“Oh— she’s probably not being serious, don’t worry,” Yeonjun shrugs, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, craning his neck to try and get a glance down the hallway, seeing if you’re finally ready— you’re nowhere to be seen, and Yeonjun sighs impatiently.

“Okay, but what did you say to her?” Taehyun presses on, eyes narrowing at the sight of Yeonjun pressing his lips together hesitantly, “Yeonjun.”

“I just said that it’s… rare to ever see you get interested in anyone,” Yeonjun pouts, but Taehyun can tell that’s not the full truth— Yeonjun caves in after a moment, gulping softly and lowering his voice to nothing but a murmur, “and that she should stop flirting with you, cause you wouldn’t even know how to handle all that.”

“You what?!”

“Yeonjunnie, what do you think?” your voice is sweet and lilted as you finally come out of your room, interrupting Taehyun’s heated outburst with your jingling jewelry— the two men are turning over to you, Taehyun too busy taking in your appearance to notice Yeonjun sighing in relief at your well-timed interruption.

“So?” you ask, doing a cute spin that has Taehyun’s eyes widening and his hands clenching— yeah, that skirt was practically a belt, your pretty skin lotioned up and shining under the lights, the spin only allowing him to get a perfect whiff of your addicting scent, “Y’think I can get Jake’s attention with this?”

The name has Taehyun frowning before he can even process it— behind him, Yeonjun whistles at your dolled-up self, doing a once over as he proceeds to hype you up.

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna have to fend you off from everyone in that place,” he says, reaching out for your hand and grinning at the way you giggle and take it, your fingers interlacing naturally, “he’s gonna be all over you.”

“Jake? You can’t actually be attracted to that douchebag,” Taehyun frowns, watching the way your expression immediately drops at his comment.

“I am, actually. It’s nothing serious, just a hook up at most,” you roll your eyes, voice turning undeniably bitter as you bend down to slip on your shoes, the sight of your panties peeking out from the skirt, tucked neatly between your thighs not lost on Taehyun, “Plus, I heard he really knows how to treat a woman.”

Taehyun’s gaze snaps up to meet Yeonjun’s; his glare is lethal enough to kill, and the recipient can only shrug sheepishly in return.

“Sleep well Taehyun,” you remark, clearly poking fun at the fact that Taehyun usually sleeps much earlier than you, never failing to call him a grandpa for it, (which is ridiculous, considering that you barely sleep.) “You don’t have to worry about me— probably won’t be home tonight.”

You’re closing the door and dragging Yeonjun with you before Taehyun can respond, probably off to pregame outside while you wait for your uber; he’s left staring at the spot you just stood at, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in anger— a minute goes by, and something decidedly shifts within Taehyun.

He’s gotta do something about this image you have of him. He should probably fix that attitude of yours too, while he’s at it.

☆☆☆

“Where the hell is he?” it’s something you seem to have asked for the umpteenth time tonight, leaning against the wall and pouting at your friend while you stand in line for the bathroom— you’ve been at the party for a solid hour now, and you still have yet to see Jake around. And to think, he was the one who invited you to his place in the first place. How rude.

“I told you not to give him a chance!” Yeonjun yells, leaning in closer so you can actually hear him through the booming music and the crowds of people singing along to whatever’s blasting from the living room, “this party fucking sucks, too.”

You can only exaggerate your pout further with a petulant humph. Your body slouches and you can already feel your heart getting heavy with disappointment, unable to refute the way your best friend proceeds to mutter something about Jake probably being too busy sucking off another girl’s face in a random room of the house.

“You never gave in to his advances— you said he was a man-whore,” Yeonjun continues to recall, wincing at the sight of two random girls rushing past him and to the front of the line, carrying their clearly shit-faced friend and screaming about how she’s going to throw up all over— the two of you cringe, exchanging a glance and mutually agreeing that you two can hold it a little more; you slowly trudge your way back to where everyone else is. “What changed? Why’d you give in?”

You scoff, lips upturned with distaste as you send your friend a glare— the wound still as fresh as ever, voice dripping with venom as you lean close to Yeonjun’s ear so he can actually hear you.

“Junnie, you know why!” you whine, smacking his shoulder and ignoring the way he childishly yelps, “I’ve officially decided to move on— I can’t stand flirting with a brick wall anymore, I need to… need to…”

You’re trailing off, gaze wandering off to a foreign point, Yeonjun’s brows furrowing before he begins to follow your line of sight— and just like you, Yeonjun remains speechless, the unexpected sight leaving your jaws gaping.

“This can’t be real.”

But it is. The way Taehyun is currently leaning casually against the wall, drink in hand and coy smile on his face as he talks to some random girl, is very real. You can recognize that man anywhere— even in this crowded room of dancing and jumping bodies, your eyes still remain glued to him.

But, the more you look at him, the more you realize something— he looks… different. It’s subtle, but it’s still there; the mischievous glint in his eyes, his relaxed posture and the hair that falls into his eyes, he has a confident, sly air to him you’ve never seen before— the girl leans up on her tippy-toes to whisper something in his ear, a hand on his shoulder to get stabilized, and the two laugh; your mind is too preoccupied with the way her hand lingers, the way Taehyun tilts his head in amusement, to realize the frown that has pulled your face together.

Taehyun brings the can of beer in his hand to his lips— he turns his head, and his eyes find yours effortlessly.

“He actually came,” Yeonjun awes beside you, and that’s enough to have your head whipping toward him, trying to ignore the way your face burns at the sudden eye contact, still able to feel his eyes linger on you for a moment after.

“What are you talking about? Did you give him the address?” you say, your voice whiny as you speak, surprised to find that you’re not exactly sure how to feel at his sudden appearance— torn between the sudden interest he piqued within you and the disappointment that festeres in your stomach, knowing that now that Taehyun is here, you won’t think twice to give anyone else any attention.

“Hmm? No, he was invited,” Yeonjun says, glancing back to where Taehyun is, looking back to find your confused expression, “him and Jake go way back.”

You’re kidding.

“Nope. Those two were fucking menaces,” Yeonjun laughs— it seems as though the words must’ve slipped out of your mouth, the shock painted on your face more amusing to your friend than anything, “they used to host the craziest parties— now that I think about it though, that was probably all Taehyun’s work.”

“Wait… don’t tell me that…” you glance over to where Taehyun remains, then glance back at Yeonjun, reading his expression carefully and gasping, “was Jake Taehyun’s old roommate?”

Yeonjun nods, as though the news wasn’t earth-shattering to you.

“After a while, I guess Taehyun just didn’t feel like keeping up with the fast life… I don’t blame him though.” Yeonjun shrugs, his eyes beginning to drift behind you, drawing you to turn around at the sound of the crowd on the dance floor cheering and yelling obnoxiously— and sure enough, Jake can be seen in the middle of a circle, flashlights of phone cameras recording lighting him up clear as day— you wince at the sight of a random girl dancing up on him, the sight leaving you to shudder and wonder why you were even gonna give him the time of day.

Ah, right.

“I can’t believe I was about to rebound on him with an old friend,” you breathe out, bristling at the sound of Yeonjun’s laughter, whipping your head around to send him a harsh glare, “and you were going to let me!”

Yeonjun raises his hands up defensively.

“Hey, I was just being a good friend,” he says, but with the way he smiles mischievously, you don’t buy it a bit. “I support women’s wrongs, or whatever.”

“You prick,” you mutter miserably, gaze inevitably wandering back to where Taehyun remains; frowning at them now being visibly closer, Taehyun’s hand resting leisurely on the girl’s waist as they talk.

And again, his eyes flicker back to meet yours.

“You know, he’s only here for you,” Yeonjun murmurs in your ear, watching your interactions like a spectacle, “he doesn’t care about that girl— probably just trying to get you jealous.”

“Stop lying,” you say, but your voice is weak and your brain is susceptible to his words; you tell him to shut up, but the way you perk up with interest is saying otherwise.

“If I’m lying, then why is he giving you fuck me eyes?”

As if on queue, Taehyun glances back again— his gaze is dark and inviting, scanning you slowly before he turns back to the unknown girl— and his eyes soften; they’re less intense, aloof, clearly uninterested. The final piece of your resolve crumbles to pieces.

“I think I’m about to do something stupid,” you say sheepishly, eyes still glued on the man across the room; beside you, Yeonjun chuckles.

“Do it,” he says, giving your back an encouraging push, sending you stumbling forward, “I support it.”

You don’t bother looking back at your friend for one last word of reassurance— your feet have begun to take you before you could even stop and think.

You’re pushing through bodies; it’s crowded and hot and sweaty, cringing and jumping at the feeling of hands brushing against your bare skin— whether it be intentional or not, you try not to dwell on it, honed in on your goal instead.

It takes a moment for you to finally find yourself on the other side of the crowd— but you’ve lost Taehyun, eyes darting back to where he was just a second ago, frowning and scanning the area for the familiar man— he’s nowhere to be found.

You’ve begun to wander around— exploring the layout carefully, eventually abandoning the living room and making your way into the kitchen instead— and like before, you’re unable to find Taehyun, growing increasingly frustrated the longer it takes to find him; it isn’t until you’re making your way to the back porch that you finally spot a familiar, broad frame leaning against the railing.

“Taehyun,” you call out, the said man not flinching at the sound of his name; his back remains turned to you, but he listens to the sound of your nearing footsteps and your jingling jewelry, the scent of your perfume following soon after; you’re standing behind him, hands undoubtedly on your hips and a pout on your face as you speak. “What are you doing here?”

He huffs out a soft chuckle— his relaxed, slouched posture only serves to annoy you, going to stand next to him so you can get a good look at his face— you try to hide the shock that’s blooming on your face, but then again, you’ve never been good at hiding your emotions.

Taehyun cracks a small, lopsided smile; your eyes are wide and you seem like a deer caught in headlights, watching with fascination as Taehyun continues his attempts to light up the joint caught in his lips— your mouth is falling open to say something, but you’re closing it immediately after; this proceeds to repeat for a few seconds more, only able to find your words once you’ve watched Taehyun take a relaxed, languid hit.

“You… you smoke?” you ask softly, unsure of what else to say as you stand staring at Taehyun dumbly— he raises a brow in amusement, pulling the joint away from his lips and turning to blow the smoke out into the night— it’s a slow, deep sigh, and you’re left in awe as you watch the smoke fall from his parted lips and disappear into the air; his eyes fall back on you, and you gulp.

“Yeah?” he says casually, turning so that he’s leaning his side against the railing, tilting his head and drinking up your every reaction eagerly. “What about it?”

Now that you’re before him, you’re finally able to get a proper look at Taehyun— a good look, unable to stop your eyes from wandering; he’s wearing that usual baggy tee and cargo pants combo that he’s so fond of, but even so, everything just feels so different; his undercut is styled cleanly, his nimble fingers glint with the aid of silver rings, a chain hanging from his neck to match— his tan skin glows under the single light placed on the porch and fuck, has he always smelled this good?

“Nothing, it’s just—” you stop yourself, biting your lip and thinking carefully over what to say; Taehyun quirks up a brow curiously, bringing his hand back up to his lips, taking another slow drag from the joint, watching the end light up before he pulls away— and you huff, hands gesturing hopelessly as you find yourself unable to properly articulate your thoughts, not when he’s staring at you so intensely, “Where did all… this, come from?”

Taehyun doesn’t answer; he simply stares at you with amused eyes. So, you continue.

“You’re always judging me for going to parties, now you’re here? And—” you stammer, pointing at the joint between his fingers in confusion, “I’ve always asked if you wanted to smoke together, and you always said no.”

Gently, your voice trails off— and suddenly, any confidence you had when you initially approached Taehyun is wilting, your gaze averting as you begin to recount his behavior, his words, everything.

“Do you hate me or something?”

Your words are accusatory and petulant; the question is meant to be lighthearted, but Taehyun can tell there is some genuineness to it.

It’s silent; you’re tense. Your gaze remains glued to some distant irrelevant point, finding yourself too nervous to look up at Taehyun’s reaction to your sudden outburst— but nothing happens. Seconds feel like hours, and after what feels like eternity, a hand is gently reaching to tilt your chin up; your gaze meets Taehyun’s, and he smiles— his other hand slowly comes up your face, the joint centimeters away from your lips.

“Wanna hit?”

His evasion to your question is not lost on you. Bitterly, you chuckle, reaching up to take the joint from him— but he’s pulling it away from you before you can grab it, tutting softly and placing it back at your lips; you reach for it again, but this time, Taehyun grabs your wrist to stop you. He taps the joint against your lips and raises his brows expectantly— what he’s asking of you finally clicks in your mind; your lips part, and he holds the joint for you as you inhale.

Taehyun watches you with dark, intent eyes— as though analyzing every move you make, from the way you lean your head forward to the way your eyes flicker up nervously to look up at him— your face is oddly innocent and shy, feeling a lot smaller under the man’s gaze as you finally pull away; you’re exhaling slowly, your mouth slightly bitter from the taste as your swallow nervously.

“So? Are you just gonna ignore all my questions?” you ask softly, suddenly feeling a lot weaker as you lean on the railing, crossing your arms and watching Taehyun bring the joint back to his lips— the edges of his mouth quirk up at the sticky feeling of your lip gloss that lingers on it.

“Well… first of all… I’ve been like this, you just met me during the time I decided to back off and change my ways,” Taehyun jokes, the joint still caught between his lips as he speaks, hanging precariously, “and second of all, I definitely don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” you ask hopefully, doe eyes lighting up and your hand subconsciously reaching out to ask for the joint; he chuckles and hands it to you, shaking his head and watching you take a long hit with a raised brow.

“No. You’re just annoying,” he mutters, watching the way you bristle with annoyance, “what? It’s true. You drive me crazy, always forcing me to take care of your reckless ass.”

“Seriously? I literally don’t do anything to you— you’re the one who always decides to get involved,” you sneer, your snarky attitude finally back as you glare at an unfazed Taehyun; your eyes run over his appearance once more, unable to control your childish mouth as you continue, “even now— you come here out of nowhere and suddenly you’re all badass.”

“Are you trying to prove me wrong? You gonna go find some girl to bring back to the apartment?” you pout at him, taking one last hit from the joint and smiling wickedly, “I wouldn’t mind if you did, there won’t be anyone else home anyway— I have the same plans as you tonight, remember?”

Your back is suddenly pressed against the railing; Taehyun is close, he’s pressing against you, caging you in and looking down at you with a gaze that makes you feel small— your skin warms and your eyes widen, unsure of what else to do but stand there and take the way he smiles meanly at you.

“Yeah? Where is Jake, anyway?” he asks, taking the joint from your hands and placing it between his own lips, hand steadying himself against the railing as the other suddenly lands on your bare thigh, just below your ass; you jolt at the feeling, his eyes flickering down at your outfit, at the tiny pieces that barely leave any room to the imagination; his skin is warm but his rings are cool against you, fingertips barely digging into the flesh, “or wait— is it not your turn yet?”

Your body flushes with an unexpected heat; his voice is downright degrading, his eyes filled with pity, telling you things that his mouth doesn’t have to— look at you, all dressed up for a man who hasn’t even looked your way tonight.

He looks at you as though you were nothing short of pathetic; it makes your knees feel weak and your stomach flip with an unexpected need.

“Jake isn’t worth my time,” you confess, watching as Taehyun raises his brows as though to say oh really? “I can easily find someone better than him.”

“You could,” he muses, voice mocking and coy, taking another small hit before he speaks, “but who?”

“I— I’m sure there are plenty of other guys here right now,” you breath out, heart thundering in your chest; Taehyun’s face is close, so close, your bodies slowly beginning to get firmly pressed together— your brain is starting to feel foggy, your limbs suddenly much heavier and tingly; your eyes feel heavy and you’re beginning to list off names absentmindedly, all of men who you spotted in the party, all with a reputation as equally notorious as Jake’s.

“Heesung’s in there… and Sunghoon… and…” Taehyun is giving a big nod to every name you list; he’s patronizing you, staring at you with deceivingly big puppy eyes as he hums a soft mmhmm, and who else? His eyes never leaving yours as you both try to pretend that you don’t notice his lips inching closer to yours, the way every exhale of smoke from him goes directly into your parted lips, your voice breathy and weak as you hold back a whimper that threatens to slip through, “And… fuck, and Beomgyu’s in there too… he wanted to come to the party together, y’know. Said we should go to his place after.”

“Hmm, you’ve got quite a few options lined up,” Taehyun hums, his voice sweet and light to your ears, a shuddered sigh leaving you as his hand squeezes your skin teasingly, caressing it softly and wandering up and down, up and down; he tilts his head, low lidded eyes glued to your lips as he murmurs the last part so softly you almost missed it, “but would any of them be able to fuck you right?”

Your mind reels; your chest is heaving with shallow breaths, the two of you stuck in a state of limbo as you feel yourself get lost in the feeling of him, unaware of the way your eyes have begun to gloss over, your hand reaching out to steady yourself on his bicep— your fingers wrap around the thick muscle, and his hand slides up your leg, bold and strong as he squeezes your ass— a soft whine slips out.

“Well?” he asks again, unable to hold back a lethargic, fond smile at the way your other hand reaches up for the joint that’s still between his lips, putting it between your own, pretty glossed lips begging to be devoured— after a second, you shake your head softly, turning your head to the side and sighing slowly; with your eyes averted, you finally decide to bite the bullet.

“No,” you say softly, “don’t want any of them anyway.”

“Then who do you want?” he asks oh so softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss at your jaw; goosebumps erupt all over your skin, and you shudder at the way he hums softly in question, persisting after seeing you get hesitant to respond— after what feels like forever, you turn to look at him; his low lidded eyes, his plump lips— and your nails dig into his bicep subconsciously.

“You.”

There’s no chance for you to take back your words; Taehyun’s lips are rough and desperate against yours, all teeth and tongue as he groans at the feeling of your sticky gloss transferring onto him, your soft whines only aiding him to press himself more against you, to really cage you in and keep you right where he wants you. He’s biting your lip teasingly, sneaking his tongue in and toying with you, feeling him smile lazily against your mouth, wandering hand continuing to caress your skin, fingertips venturing under the hem of your tight denim skirt.

After a while, it becomes too much— your body feels hot, your hand is gripping onto him tightly, as though he could escape if you let him go— your lungs burn and you’re barely able to keep up with him anymore, but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind; you’re whining and crying softly at the way he continues to squeeze your ass teasingly, jolting at the way he suddenly slaps it— your fingers jump up to tangle themselves into his roots, tugging roughly at them in hopes of getting him to part from you; he seems to understand what you want, but he continues to ravish you for a few seconds more before he finally pulls away.

In Taehyun’s eyes, this is the best you’ve looked all night; out of breath and flushed, pressed between the railing and his body, his cock already half-hard as he wills himself to not rut against your soft exposed skin like an animal— his hand leaves the railing to grab onto your waist, the other reaching for the joint that is still in your weak hold— he inspects the half-smoked, almost extinguished item before he looks back at you; a small, mischievous grin spreads on his lips, and he slips a thigh between your legs.

“Taehyun…!” you gasp, bouncing up as Taehyun presses the firm muscle against your poor dripping pussy; your panties stick to your cunt and quickly create a wet patch on Taehyun’s jeans, and he can already feel the warmth of you through the denim— your thighs close around his own shakily, your free hand grabbing onto his shoulder for support; the glassy, wide eyed look you give him is almost enough to make Taehyun lose it and fuck you then and there.

“Hmm? What’s up,” Taehyun asks apathetically, fishing in his pocket for his lighter, letting go of your waist to relight the joint with a dark, concentrated gaze; his thigh continues to move against you, flexing and bouncing against your cunt, and all you can do is cry softly and plead for him to stop teasing— his lips quirk up into a mean smile, and his eyes flicker back up to your hazy, fucked out face, tucking the lighter back in his pocket and tilting his head curiously at you.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks softly, bringing the joint to his lips and taking a long, slow hit, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Please… please stop teasing,” you whine, and judging by the way Taehyun raises a brow at that, it’s not enough; his thigh has stopped moving, so you resort to grinding pitifully against it, eyes shining with a desperation that intrigues him, “not enough… need more.”

He huffs; his hand comes up to grab your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to open— you follow his command without a second thought, the last thing you see as your eyes flutter shut being Taehyun leaning in, his own mouth an inch away from yours as he exhales the smoke directly into your mouth.

“Oh yeah? Want it?” he murmurs, feeling you nod in his hold, “tell me then. Tell me how you want it.”

“I— I…” words seem to have escaped you; it’s hard to find the confidence to tell him what you want, the world around you a blurry and lethargic mess, your senses heightened to only feel Taehyun, his skin on yours, his rings that dig into your cheek, his warm thigh that you grind against— peeking through your low lidded eyes, you watch him shake his head disappointedly, taking another hit and proceeding to blow out the smoke into your awaiting mouth once more.

“C’mon baby, use your words. I know you can,” he insists patiently, clicking his tongue and scolding you as you proceed to blank out once more; his fingertips dig into your cheeks roughly, blunt nails threatening to leave indents as he forces you to look at him.

“Want it rough? Want it hard?” he spits out, listening to your whiny mmhmm, mmhmm! with narrowed eyes, and he laughs— it’s mean and condescending, just like his next words, “fucking slut, ‘course you do.”

He’s capturing your lips in another harsh kiss before you can protest; the joint in his hand is snuffed out on the fence and tucked away, his hands falling onto your hips as he begins to press you firmly against him, guiding your pace entirely and forcing you to ride his thigh; you whine and you moan against his lips, fingers tugging at his hair as you grind your soaked cunt against his jeans— when Taehyun pulls away, your lips chase his without a second thought, hands tightening your hold against him in fear that he’ll leave.

“You want it?” he asks once more, bouncing his thigh against your messy cunt, grinning at the way you yelp, “Tell me baby, go on, say it; tell me you want it.”

He won’t let you go quite easily this time. Sharp, intense eyes prying the words out of you, brows furrowing together at the weak, quiet attempts that come from you, fingers leaving a bruising grip on you as he silently commands for more.

“Taehyun, c’mon…” you pout, an embarrassed heat rising up your face, not used to seeing this side of him— you didn’t even know it existed, to be fair, “I want it, please, stop being a tease.”

Taehyun has you regretting your words in the blink of an eye; hand pressing the small of your back, forcing you to arch and proceeding to land a harsh smack on your ass that has you gasping, the skin stinging from the feeling of the rough metal of his rings landing on it— but his hand doesn’t fail to caress the place soothingly, a total contrast to the ruthless glare he gives you.

“A tease?” he sneers, landing another, gentler smack, as though the words are enough to get him angry all over again.

“You mean like when you were showing off this cute little skirt to me? Hmmm? Bending down and showing me your panties? Or when you were talking about getting fucked by my friends?” he can feel you tremble against his hold, your mouth opening to retaliate— but you’re not quick enough, Taehyun’s smart mouth running faster than yours, “Or how ‘bout when you force me to watch you run off to parties and bring a man over to your room, just to have me take care of you in the mornings? Is that what you mean by a tease?”

You shake your head, scrambling to come up with a response; Taehyun seems to have gotten quite fed up with you, because his hand is coming up to wrap around your neck, adding a subtle pressure that leaves you light headed and mushy.

“What, can’t talk now? What happened to that mouthy girl I had here earlier?” Taehyun says, his voice mean and dripping with venom, “tell me you want it, or I’ll leave you here— you said you had some other toys to fuck with inside, right? I’m sure they could help give you what you want.”

“No, no, please, I want it, need it,” you cry, attempting to chase any pleasure and grind your cunt against him; you’re quickly stopped by his firm, bruising hand, “Taehyun, Taehyun, please, please fuck me, I want you, please?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters lowly, eyes glued to the way your hips buck and cant, trying desperately to break free from his hold that prevents you from moving, “think you deserve it?”

“Yes,” you immediately sigh, body restless and hot and overwhelmingly needy, feeling as though you’ve gotten tunnel vision for the man before you; your hand slips from his shoulder and down his chest, finding the hardened bulge that has been pressing against your body with ease— his jaw clenches, and his face remains stoic— but that doesn’t mean you don’t notice the way his lips part or his hips press against your palm reassuringly, “yes– give it to me, want it, only wanted you from the start.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, heavy eyes locked onto the way you look up at him so prettily, your hand palming and rubbing at his clothed cock only serving to cloud his thoughts further, “C’mon.”

He’s stealing one last slow, messy kiss from you before he pulls away; fingers intertwined with yours, stepping back and proceeding to tug you along— you stumble at the sudden action, your airy self giggling softly at the way you tumble into Taehyun’s broad back; he sends you a fond smile, squeezing your hand reassuringly before he’s opening the door to the house and leading you back inside.

It feels as though the whole environment of the party has changed; the neon lights, blasting music and humid air is a little more welcomed than it was before, unable to contain the dopey smile that grows on your face as you allow Taehyun to lead you wherever; you trust him.

“Wherever” leads you to a bedroom upstairs— Taehyun is slamming the door shut and grabbing your waist, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall before you can even react; his face is inches from yours as he mutters a safeword for the two of you, waiting for you to nod and repeat it back before his lips are back on yours— but this time, he seems to want to take his time with you; plump, swollen lips beginning to trail along your jaw, wandering until he’s peppering kisses along your neck, teasing mouth nipping and sucking at your jaw until you’re holding onto his shoulders and begging for more.

Slowly, he begins to walk the two of you backwards; lips never leaving yours, hands caressing your skin and toying with the hem of your shirt as he sits down on the bed, making you stand between his legs— pulling away, you put your hands on Taehyun’s firm shoulders, sighing shakily at the way he looks at you; as though he were holding back from devouring you entirely, a fondness that makes you weak in the knees undeniably there in his pupils.

“Fuck, pretty girl, pretty body,” he breathes, leaning forward to pepper kisses wherever he can— pushing your shirt up to expose your chest, burying his head in your tits and placing open mouthed kisses, biting teasingly at the flesh, chuckling at the feeling of you jolting and jutting your chest out, your body much more reactive and sensitive— and he trails down slowly, down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, lingering there for a bit as he kisses and sucks marks into the vast canvas; his hands trail up and down your sides, pulling you in every time you try to squirm away.

“What, you getting shy on me now?” he tuts, nipping at your side and listening to the squeal that escapes you— his hands tighten and he’s forcing you forward, leaning back until he’s laying down and you’re straddling him precariously; your knees dig into the mattress and you’re trying your best to remain stable, but Taehyun doesn’t seem to be satisfied yet— you frown in confusion at the feeling of him trying to tug your hips up more, resisting the motion with a tilt of your head; Taehyun pouts.

“Don’t be like that,” he groans, hands shifting from your hips to the back of your thighs, one cupping your ass and the other falling just below— and you yelp, Taehyun’s muscles flexing as he moves you up forcefully, much too strong for you to retaliate; you’re tumbling down, face burning and planting into the mattress as Taehyun shifts below you— your dripping cunt hovering just above his face, skirt riding up and bunching at your hips, any whines of protests falling on deaf ears as he begins to press soft kisses on your inner thighs.

“T–Taehyun, wait, you don’t—” you stutter through moans, fingers gripping onto the sheets below you as you feel him beginning to trail up, your body revealing just how much you don’t mean your words, “you don’t have to— mmh–!”

His hands are coming up to your middle, pulling and signaling for you to sit up; you do, partly from your own efforts but mostly from his, easily moving you as though you were nothing but a doll— and your cunt is hovering over his face, hungry eyes flickering up to meet yours— he sees the hesitation on your face, the way you’re beginning to ramble once more, and he scoffs; the smack that lands on the back of your thigh is enough to get you to stop mid sentence.

“Just shut up and let me taste you,” he says sternly; his fingers dig into your hips and he’s tugging you down, sneering at the way you continue to hesitate, only allowing yourself to hover over him— he bites at your inner thigh in retaliation, the sensitive feeling bringing out a cry from you, hips bucking and thighs squeezing around his head for a second, “C’mon baby, sit on my face— I can take it, you know I can.”

The hesitant hum you let out is enough for him; he rolls his eyes, and with a strength you forgot he possessed, he forces you to plant your cunt directly onto him.

It feels like a switch has flipped within him. Fuck, you think, your lips parted in a silent scream, a hand scrambling to tangle itself in his hair, fuck!

He hasn’t even bothered to move your panties to the side; he’s eating you out through them, tongue pushing into your hole and lips kissing and sucking at your clit like a man starved, groaning and praising you with a muffled voice; his fingers dig into your ass, making sure to keep you planted firmly on his face as he eats you out.

You think you’re losing your fucking mind.

Just when you thought it was too much, that your body felt like it was buzzing with electricity, filled with a euphoria and pleasure that had you mewling and crying desperately, Taehyun’s nimble fingers finally push the ruined cloth that covers your pussy to the side— and oh, oh, your eyes are rolling back and your mouth is stuck open, Taehyun’s hot tongue lapping and fucking into your hole and his nose pressing firmly into your clit— he’s panting and sighing against your cunt, slurping up any arousal that leaks from your poor hole— his head shakes from side to side, humming into your pussy, and the last bit of resolve within you shatters.

“Taehyun— oh my god, Taehyun—!” you cry, hips grinding down into him, thighs closing around his head; you can feel him fucking smiling lazily into your pussy, rough hand slapping your ass and guiding your movements against him, as though to silently reassure you and ask for more. “Please— oh god, oh— fuckfuckfuck, m’close, I’m close, hnng—!”

Your words are nothing but fuel to the man beneath you— his tongue is flattening against your hole, licking up and flicking at your clit before he begins to suck on it; two fingers prod at your clenching entrance, proceeding to push in without warning, curling expertly and finding your sweet spot with ease; your body shivers and you wail, muscles growing weak as you fall forward once more— burying your head in your arms as you cry about how close you are, the new position only allowing Taehyun to move your hips firmly against him, rocking you back into him; his fingers pull out of your cunt in favor of shoving his tongue back in instead, following every buck and twitch of your hips with ease— his nails dig into your skin as he holds you still, eliciting a dull feeling of pain, and everything falls apart.

Too much, too much! you think— maybe you say it out loud, your mouth open and gasping as you grip onto the bed sheets, feeling as Taehyun continues his same, intense ministrations; letting you ride out your orgasm but not stopping, even after you’ve begun to sniffle and cry about how sensitive you feel— after a while, Taehyun finally gives in, pulling away from your cunt to lick you clean, pressing firm, sloppy kisses against your hole and puffy clit, smiling at the way you twitch with each one.

You feel as though your bones have all melted; you can’t move, face burrowed into the mattress and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath— beneath you, Taehyun moves, slipping out from under you and hovering behind, hungry eyes taking in the sight before him eagerly; ass up and back arched, glistening hole on display as you continue to shudder and breathe shakily— you hear the sound of clothes rustling behind you, followed by the feeling of the bed dipping— Taehyun’s hand rubs at your ass fondly, and you jump at the sudden sensation, eyes screwing shut and a quiet whine leaving you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Taehyun sighs, biting at his lip and stroking your skin, up your back and to your shoulders, leaning over and kissing gently at the nape of your neck as he whispers, “think you can take more?”

“Yes– yeah, please,” you beg quietly, unable to feel an ounce of shame from how immediate your response is; you can feel his cock rubbing against your ass, the stickiness of his tip that ruts against you subtly— you look over your shoulder with a hazy eyes and a soft, blissful smile, meeting Taehyun’s equally fucked out gaze as you push your hips back, “wanna feel you inside— I’m on the pill.”

The sharp breath of air Taehyun sucks in isn’t lost on you— his cock jumps from the way you grind against him, no longer able to keep up that cold and uninterested facade he’s kept up since the moment you two met up for the first time— he wants you, bad. And to his delight, you seem to feel the same.

“Jesus, you drive me so fucking crazy,” Taehyun breathes, the soft giggle you let out not helping him remain calm; he sits back, a hand grabbing at your waist and the other wrapping around his length— he’s squeezing the base, pumping at it slowly, the gruff sighs and moans you hear behind you enough to have you clenching around nothing— just when you think you’ll have to beg again, you feel his thick tip begin to prod at your entrance.

You think you could cum from the feeling of him stretching you out alone— a broken moan leaves you at the feeling of him entering inside you, so thick and big that you think he might just break you; your head drops back into the mattress and your hips are pulled back against Taehyun’s, soft cries leaving you at the feeling of him bottomed out inside you.

“P-perfect, so… damn perfect,” Taehyun rasps out, head falling back and eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of you clenching around him— you’re so tight and sensitive, walls fluttering around him and sucking him in, tempting him to lose control and pound you straight into the mattress; he has to take a deep breath and concentrate on not cumming then and there, because the way you’re beginning to whine for more like a cockhungry bitch is really getting to him, “shit– stop— ugh– stop squeezing me like that princess, won’t fucking last long if you do.”

You can only whine in protest at that; it’s so hard to remain still, your hazy mind already fucked out beyond belief from your first orgasm— but even so, you still want more, you crave it, you need it; you make sure that Taehyun is aware of it, too, whiny and breathy as you cry and cry for him to fuck you.

“Tyun, come on,” you pout, impatiently moving your hips back, in search of any stimulation you can get, “please, wanna get fucked already, want it hard, don’t tell me that was all talk earlier.”

If there’s one thing you’ve figured out about Taehyun, it’s that he hates when you try to act up on him— because as he tightens his fingers into your plush skin and slowly begins to pull his hips out, you realize quickly that he’s most definitely not all talk.

“Ah—!”

Your body is being driven forward with each thrust— Taehyun is fucking you hard, muttering angry words that you can’t even pick up over the sound of your own moans; his cock is thick and his hips are angled so his head bumps against your sensitive spot with each thrust, harsh pace not allowing you any reprieve as you simply fall limp, unable to move your hips back in tandem with his pace; if anything, Taehyun is doing it for you, rough hands bringing you back against him like it’s nothing.

“Fucking slut— got such a dirty mouth, should make sure you to fuck you good so you can’t talk back to me,” he growls, feeling you clench like a vice around him, even more when he stops thrusting in favor of pulling you back like a doll for him to use, “Oh, you’d like that huh? Like it when I use you like a toy? Stupid pussy’s nothing more than a fucking cumdump for me— yeah, c’mon, move your hips, thaat’s it, just like that.”

His mouth continues to spew filth, a stark contrast to how Taehyun usually is— he’s always been quieter during sex, but the sight of you trembling and struggling to take his cock is enough for his mouth to run faster than his mind— that, and the aid of his high that seems to have gotten rid of any self-control he usually exhibits.

Your movements have become sluggish and weak— you’re getting tired, he can tell, so with one last slap to your ass that has you yelping, he finally decides to take control again.

“God, can’t even fuck me for more than a few minutes? Where’d that cocky girl from before go, hmm?” He asks, voice patronizing as he begins his harsh thrusts— only pulling out halfway before he’s sinking in all the way, hips slapping against your ass creating a lewd sound; your cunt only tightens and gushes around him, hiccupped moans leaving you as he picks up his pace, watching as your arms give out beneath you and your face gets planted into the mattress; he huffs out a laugh, and reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair— yanking your head back, you yelp, left to his mercy as he begins to pound into your ruthlessly.

“Taehyun, wait– slow down…!” you cry, scratching at the bed sheets and feeling tears prick at your eyes— and he does, for a second, waiting for you to say something else, for the safeword you both agreed on— but you don’t, and the laugh he lets out after catching on is enough to have your face burning with humiliation— and his pace picks back up— no, he’s meaner than before, degrading you below his breath and pulling at your hair, pulling you back against him, a hand sneaking down to place sloppy circles at your clit— you’re keening and clenching like a vice around him, a sharp hiss leaving him at the feeling.

“Mmmh, too… too much,” you manage to say softly, immediately given another harsh tug at your hair in response, your eyes watering at the feeling.

“Too much?” Taehyun repeats, and you can practically hear the pout on his lips from the patronizing tone, “thought you wanted it hard? Don’t tell me it was all talk.”

He’s spitting your exact words back at you, watching with amusement as you try weakly to prove him wrong.

“That’s right. You’ll take it like a good girl should,” he grunts, slowing his pace down and punctuating his words with rough, deep thrusts, “Fucking. Take it. All.”

You’re close, he can feel it, he can hear it— and the thought of watching your pretty face screw up into pleasure and bliss is enough to send Taehyun’s mind reeling, not hesitating to pull out and let go of your body— his lips quirk up with satisfaction at the way you’re immediately falling limp, fucked out face peeking behind in confusion, about to complain about why he stopped when he begins to move you.

It feels dizzying, the way he’s able to manipulate you and force you into any position he likes; you’re sure Taehyun can read it all over your face, because he smiles meanly at you, patting your cheek fondly before he begins to busy himself with your clothes.

“Don’t think I never noticed you staring, pretty,” he grins, tugging your skirt and panties down swiftly, eying the soiled underwear before he throws it off to the side, landing directly on his discarded pile of clothes— and he sends you another sleazy smile that has you bringing your knees up and closing your legs shyly— it’s all futile though, because he’s immediately kneeling before you and spreading your thighs open with his warm, large hands, holding onto the underside of your knees as he scoots closer to you, “always getting so touchy with me, grabbing onto my arms and thighs— dumb little thing, bet you thought you were getting away with it each time, hmm?”

“Shut up,” you whine, resisting the urge to cover your face and hide away— but you really can’t, especially with the way his thick cock ruts against your pussy, tip sliding up and down your slit as he teases you by putting it in, only to pull back out again, “Taehyun…”

“C’mon, grab onto me,” he muses, slipping the tip in once more before he begins to slide in slowly, watching your mouth fall open and your eyes grow glassy, “wanna watch you cum on my cock.”

This new position practically has you seeing stars— Taehyun hovers over you and watches intently, chain hanging over your face as he presses your thighs against your body, fucking you straight into the mattress; you tremble and you gasp, a fire festering in your stomach as you beg for more— “m-more, please, faster, harder, s-shit—!”

Taehyun listens to your every request intently— his stamina is impressive and ruthless, and his cock is reaching and hitting places you never knew were there— your back arches and your hands scramble to grab onto something to stabilize yourself, inevitably falling onto Taehyun’s body in the end; one on his shoulder, the other on his bicep that flexes from the effort of keeping your squirming body still.

“So… fucking… pretty,” Taehyun groans, watching your chest heave and your eyes blink away tears, leaning down to suck and bite at your breast, frowning at the bra that still covers them— throwing a leg over his shoulder, Taehyun pulls your bra up roughly, hips continuing to pound against yours as he latches his mouth onto your pretty nipples— you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you begin to cry to him, good, s-so good, fuck!

“Shit, I’m close,” he says after a moment, pulling off your breasts with a lewd pop! That has your eyes rolling back; he moves up to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, murmuring your name sweetly and waiting for you to respond. “I’m close baby, so– so fucking close– where— hah, where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you immediately mewl, hearing him groan unabashedly in response, “Please, pleasepleaseplease, inside, inside—! Fill me, want your cum, wanna be full—!”

“Okay baby, okay,” he says sweetly, kissing at your neck and wandering up to your ear, “gonna fill you up good, just like you want.”

“Oh, are you close too?” he asks, and you nod furiously, watching as he goes back to hover over you, watching every change in your expression intently, “I can feel it, pretty cunt’s squeezing me so good– c’mon, cum for me baby, wanna see it, wanna watch your pretty face, will you let me? Yeah, only for me to see— gonna cum, fuck, make you mine, you’re mine only, okay?”

His words are enough to send you over the edge; you let out a long whine and scratch at his skin, crying out his name desperately as your nails rake down his back, down his arm; he hisses at the feeling, the pain enough to set him off and join you right after; his hips stutter and his face screws up from the pleasure, brows knitting together and teeth gritting together as he lets out soft moans— but his eyes never leave yours, deft fingers circling your clit as he lets you ride out your orgasm— your legs tremble under his hold, eyes rolling back and face smoothing out from the pure euphoria you feel.

“Yours… just yours,” you sigh out, feeling his hips finally still, thick cum beginning to leak out from you, falling onto the sheets and ruining them completely; you pant and try to regain composure, but it’s really, really hard— you feel like you’re on cloud nine, words tumbling past your lips before you can second guess them, “y’have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

“Really?” he asks; the panic you feel in your chest is short-lived, because as soon as you see the soft look in Taehyun’s eyes, you melt.

“Yeah…” you say softly, suddenly a lot more shy under his gaze, “this was like. Attempt number one hundred of me trying to get over you. Or make you jealous.”

“Hmm… well, you don’t have to do that anymore. I’m all yours,” he mumbles, swooping in to steal a slow kiss from you; you can’t control the giddy laugh that leaves you at that, lazy hands tangling into his hair to keep him close.

“Good,” you murmur against his lips, “I was running out of guys to use against you.”

His hand squeezes at your hip in warning— you smile coyly.

“Joking, of course.”

Nipping at your lip, Taehyun sends you a half-hearted glare.

“You better be.”

You give him a giddy nod; after tonight, it wasn’t like anyone would be able to compare to him, anyway. Shifting underneath him, you wince at the feeling of your sweaty body rubbing against the sheets— Taehyun is able to read your face before you can get anything out.

“Wanna go home?” he asks softly.

“Please,” you say, giving him a shy smile that has his heart flipping pathetically, “will you carry me?”

He laughs, placing a chaste kiss on your lips and sneaking his arms under your figure.

“Always.”

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun ff #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #taehyun x reader #taehyun fanfic #taehyun fanfiction

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months

Text

howdy, honey!

part I

older!cowboy!Eddie x honey!reader

foreword: idk what this is. other than the start of a new series I may or may not have time for lmao. just… love the idea of honey!Reader and wanted to show the origins of cowboy!Eddie into their life <3 honey!Reader is a bit of an abrasive spitfire but I heart complicated women and Eddie is the right amount of gruff to put up w/ that bratty ass <3 I’m sorry if any truck stuff is wrong I swear I researched a bit but dear god I am not a car girly plz forgive me

cw: Appalachian no magic AU, cowboy!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is at least 40, R implied as younger), R is on the run from a Troubled Past ™, R has breasts (non-sexual mention) and a tattoo (no skin tone/color mentioned), smut planned for following chapters, as always +18 mdni!

wc: 5.3k

The last thing you want to hear behind you approaches: a vehicle slowing down, tires crunching to crawl at your walking pace in the gravel ditch of the road.

Maybe it’s just a concerned citizen. You soothe yourself internally, even as your guard surges up to take stock of the environment, to calculate the quickest route to safety.

To your left- a rusting red pickup, its unknown driver, the flat expanse of tarmac and heat lines rising blearily for miles on end.

To your right, just a sprint away- the line of a lush, thick forest, unfamiliar birds calling amidst the Appalachian wilderness.

Then, an even worse sound of the truck's window being rolled down.

“Not interested, pal,” you call out, in a tone you hope is commanding. “My thumb ain’t out. Keep driving.”

“I just-” it’s a man’s voice, because of course it is, who else would stop in the middle of an abandoned road to harass a young thing like you- “It’s about a hundred degrees out. Hotter than a two-buck pistol and you’re hiking in it.”

“Mind your damn business.” You don’t know this guy’s angle, but you don’t really care- if there’s anything you’ve learned from the past two weeks on the road, it’s Don’t trust strange men and keep your wits.

Heart thumping an unsteady rhythm, you swallow the fear and hike your duffle bag higher onto your aching shoulder, resolute, even as the guy sighs. As if he has the right to sound weary. “Darlin’. I don’t wanna see you die of dehydration, is all. Got some water in the back, ‘least let me offload some onto you.”

The offer is tempting enough to still your steps- your canteen is empty, ran out about an hour after being filled at the last town’s hostel. Constant thirst has been an unfortunate side effect of this journey; so far it seems you've been the only one desperate enough to actually be outside in this unrelenting heat.

The man must take your pause for acceptance because he rolls to a stop just ahead of you, brake lights giving one quick flash before the engine cuts out. Both boots hit pavement at the same time, revealing a tall, lanky figure in dark denim and a cut-off tee.

As he rounds to the trailer bed, you notice a smattering of tattoos- bats flying up one arm, a lariat and a floral piece on the other, some sort of mythological creature sitting over his heart (only spotted as he bends to unhook his truck bed’s latch, shirt shifting forward to reveal a pale expanse of skin beneath).

He’s a confusing, delightful mix of punk and cowboy- jeans just a touch too tight for working, silver hoops lining the shell of his right ear. You’d probably get a better sense of his age if his hair wasn’t hiding in a bun too shadowy to see properly, nestled under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

Eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate but kind and calm turn towards you, observing silently with crossed arms in the ditch a yard away. He closes the gap, wiping his palm on the black bandanna lining his pocket before stretching an appeasing hand towards you. “Waterin’ time.”

A laugh would signal comfortability, and you prefer to keep your cards as close to your own chest as possible, so you smother the noise, turn it into a disapproving twist of your mouth before taking his proffered hand.

He’s stronger than he looks, pulling you up to the road with an easy flex of his forearm; his other hand automatically fits to your low back to steady you as your pack shifts with the climb, but he drops all points of contact as soon as you’re stabilized.

There’s a thunk from the nearby truck, the sound of something dull hitting into the metal. On instinct, your hand snaps to the butterfly knife tucked into the front of your bra band, hidden by the extra padding but close enough to whip out at a moment's notice.

A dog sits eager and obedient in the truck bed, black and leggy and long-snouted- some type of Shepherd, if you had to guess. His long feathered tail hits the wheel with each enthusiastic wag, oversized ears perked forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Adrenaline leaves you feeling sticky and strung-out, even more than the heat. Between your breasts, the knife sits waiting, metal cool to the touch and reassuring through the fabric of your tanktop. You hope it just looks like you scare easily, hand over your heart with nerves and jumpiness instead of trained defense mode- cards to chest, and all that.

Safer for you, to be underestimated. Always harder to see a hit coming from someone unexpected.

This time, though, you aren’t fixing to hit. The back of your hand, like some gravitational force, draws you to the mouth of the truck bed.

A slash of pink tongue splits the all-black dog’s mouth when he licks you, thumping tailbeat picking up speed.

The man who owns both truck and dog leans a hip against the wheel, watching as you smooth your palm over the silky head of his companion. “Name’s Goblin.”

“So, your parents were hippies, I gather?” A joke slips out before you can catch and wrestle it back to be the most unassuming version of yourself.

The man laughs- full and rich, crow’s feet bursting like sunbeams, dimples springing into his cheeks- the action knocks a decade off his face.

You’re transfixed, unable to look away, Goblin nudging your hand for more pets while you memorize the way this stranger looks, laughing on the side of the road in the middle of goddamn nowhere.

“The dog is Goblin,” the man says, humor twitching at the corners of his plush lips. He takes off his hat to rest against his chest, chocolate eyes still twinkling. “I’m Eddie.”

In the truck bed next to Goblin, there’s a bulky case laying sideways, a handle on one end for carrying. It’s the last push you need, apparently, as the logic part of your mind speaks with finality: Ted Bundy never played guitar.

So you give Eddie your name. Your real one. You haven’t used it in weeks, opting for anonymity and the comfort of a pseudonym at the seedy spots you’ve been staying.

As soon as you say it, something loosens in your chest, flutters free into the bright blue sky as Eddie repeats it like something precious- like he’s known you for ages.

“Well.” As if a matter has been settled, Eddie puts his hat back on (you weren’t quite done memorizing the long pattern of his curls, shot through with grey, pulled taut against his skull to settle in a bun at the nape of his neck). “More’n welcome to take the water and send me packin’, but now that we all know each other’s names, how about a lift to town?”

Eddie scratches Goblin behind the ear, absentminded as he adds, “Could even sit in the back, ‘f you wanted. That way you could just jump on out if you think I’m tryna pull something.”

Your shoulder suddenly aches with the weight of your duffel; you let the straps slide to the crook of your elbow, then set it next to Goblin who seems happy for something new to sniff.

Unfortunately for Eddie, you’re starting to like him, which means the filter for your sarcasm and teasing has completely eroded. “Ri-ight. Like I’m gonna just sit in the back of your truck when you could floor it and fling me over the side like a ragdoll.”

Those big, doey eyes of Eddie’s roll skyward. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only on days that end in Y.”

“All right.” There’s something in his tone that makes your spine straighten- not from fear, just… something else that you’re trying hard not to analyze right now. “So sit in the damn front and put a seatbelt on, since you’re so worried ‘bout my driving.”

Eddie shuts the pickup’s gate and mutters all the way to the driver’s side door, some comparison being drawn between you and one of his cows that gets herself stuck in the fenceline, refusing sesnsible help.

The air in the cab is stale and still, warmth from the cracked leather seats soaking into the back of your shorts and bare thighs as you get in and buckle up. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately you need a shower, being in an enclosed space and next to someone with (presumably) a working sense of smell, but luckily Eddie’s already rolling down the windows.

“Air’s broke,” he says by way of apology, waving in the general direction of the AC vents before reaching to open the sliding rear window.

Something cold and wet presses against your ear- Goblin, saying hello. By the time your giggle is over, the grumble of the engine has kicked on, and the dog has found a headrest in the form of your pack, his tongue lolling into the fabric with rhythmic panting.

“Radio?” You ask, already reaching to twist at the knob on the dash- a crackle of static, and then, bliss. Johnny Cash croons from the speakers.

In trying to keep your delight casual, you slip up, telling Eddie as he straightens out the wheel to pick up speed- “God, I haven’t heard music this good in months, not since-”

Fortunately, whatever system in your brain still holding on to good sense chops the sentence in half. To cover, you clear your throat, cross your arms, and keep your eyes fixed forward when you change the subject. “So, you play guitar?”

If Eddie notices your lapse he doesn’t comment on it, picking up conversation with an easy charm. “Nah. That’s just a cover for if Sheriff Hop gets me for speedin’. That case is filled with coke and guns and all sorts’a contraband.”

You fix the side of his head with a glare, and even without seeing it full-on Eddie sputters a chuckle and admits, “Fine. I play guitar, sometimes.”

While Eddie’s eyes stay on on the road ahead, you let your own gaze linger on his face in profile: the slope of his nose, the freckles that scatter across the apple of his cheeks and neck, the tail end of another tattoo winding up his collarbone.

Eddie catches you staring, this time, jolt like an electric shock coursing through your whole body when you lock eyes for a moment, before he flicks back to the road. “Looks like you got some ink, yourself.”

He must be doing his best to remain respectful, because he doesn’t ask what the J stands for, even as your other hand jumps instinctually to cover the breadth of your wrist, hiding the little inked letter from view. “Yeah. I get one every time I kill a man. In remembrance.”

Amusement twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth when he asks, “Yeah? Only one so far? Would’a thought you’d be racking up your letters by now. Fierce as you are.”

“Well, we’re in public. I can’t very well take off my shirt to show you all the rest.”

This earns you another laugh, and even with the wind whipping through the cab, it fills every inch of the space. Rattles into you like a thunderstorm, knocks dust off some deep part of you kept dormant ‘til now.

You like that he called you that. Fierce. You’re loath to admit it, but you also like the pet names. Most boys are condescending or double-edged with their diminutives, but when Eddie calls you darlin’ with that Southern drawl, it feels… endearing.

Equal parts terrifyingly disarming and captivatingly charming. That’s how you’d categorize Eddie, so far, though you’re not sure what to file away about his arms- stretched out at ten and two on the Ford’s big wheel, soft white underbelly of his forearms fading into a natural freckled tan, smattering of dark hair over both.

For now, you file it under Trouble and focus on the upcoming road sign.

It looks like someone stripped a big tree and cut out a thick middle piece just to drive it at a slant into the ground. The hand-carved words appear to have been painted over many times, discolored and weathered, obscuring some of the letters.

WELC ME TO C LINE

”It’s a nice town, Celine,” Eddie says conversationally as the sign gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Small, but good community. Lots of farming folks, like me, some strays and stragglers, like you.”

Johnny Cash gives way to an unfamiliar folksy number; you drink in the ramshackle buildings that make up the heart of the town. It’s reminiscent of old cowboy movies you grew up watching with your brothers- flat roofs, red brick, clapboard. A hitching post outside of a General Store, a group of kids tearing around on bikes in the empty lot of the movie theater.

All that’s missing is a lone tumbleweed flipping lazily end over end across the road.

Eddie pulls his truck parallel with a stretch of curb outside a long building, another handmade sign that reads Celine Public Library. He leaves the engine running but shifts the gear to park, pointing to the phone booth just beyond your window.

“Phone’s just there, if you got someone to call. Figure’d here’s as good a place as any, if you wanna part ways now.”

Oh, right. Eddie offered you a ride to town, and he made good on it. Now is the part where you get out, collect your duffel, and wave while pretending to make a phone call until his truck has disappeared.

But you don’t. There’s lively guitar plucking over the speakers, twining with the purr of the engine. Eddie’s hands flex and unflex on the wheel, horseshoe tattoo on the first segment of his middle finger rippling with the movement like he’s working up the courage to say something,

You’d better not stick around to hear it. Fighting the thing that’s sticking you to the seat, you reach for the door handle. “Well, thanks, Eddie. ‘Preciate the lift.”

Your fingers are just grazing the handle when Eddie speaks again. “Wait-”

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t-

His eyes are just as beautiful as before, when he’d laughed- and now they’re on you, longing and hopeful and a little unsure as he speaks, gaining speed as if from nerves- “I’ve got a spare room. Spare shack, technically- it’s not much, but I used to live in there real comfortably ‘til my uncle moved and I got the house. Please come stay, at least for the night. Please?”

With a hand still on the door to your other, safer option, you pause; though the main emotion that washes through you is one of relief and gratitude, you sink your teeth into the little flare of irritation, pulling it up to the surface like one last play. “I don’t want charity.”

”Do I look like the church-goin’ type?” A bright flash of Eddie’s teeth as he grins (he knows he’s got you, goddammit). “And the shack door locks from the inside. Deadbolt. In case you’re worried about… I’m not askin’ anything from you. Just- please.”

Your hand drops from the door, falls limply into your lap as you breathe out. “And you’re not in some… weird, cowpoke-Satanic cult where you’re gonna use me as human sacrifice?”

“What part of deadbolt do you not get,” Eddie retorts, pleased, hand at the gear shift. “And my cult only meets on the full moon, so. You’ve got a few weeks of safety, at least.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up out of you, and the smile that Eddie fixes you with would’ve knocked you sideways had you been standing.

You’re both relishing in the moment too deeply to notice the bicycles approaching from behind; Goblin gives an excited yip, front paws planted on the lip of the truck, wagging up a storm as the group squeals to a halt, surrounding you and Eddie on all sides.

One of the kids, a boy with a curly mop of hair who looks on the young end of 15, slams a hand down on Eddie’s open window. “Hey!”

Eddie is the one to nearly jump out of his skin this time, hand flying to the top of his hat and cursing. “Fuck. Christ, Henderson. Whaddya want?”

“Do you require our assistance at the market this weekend?” The kid speaks in a funny, oddly formal tone as Eddie sighs and sets his hat on the seat between the two of you.

“Unfortunately so.”

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t be like that.” The boy is practically leaning through the window at this point with eagerness, one foot on the ground to keep his bike from tipping. You smother a giggle at the way Eddie’s jaw ticks. “School’s out, we’re bored as hell, and-”

He stops mid sentence when he spies you in the passenger seat, eyebrows jumping up to the curls covering his forehead. “And who might this be?”

“None of your damn business,” Eddie grits out, but you ignore the all-bark-no-bite tone to stretch across and offer your hand in introduction.

“I’m Dustin,” the boy says, in answer to your own name, and rapid-fire points at the various figures loitering around the truck, naming his friends too quickly for you to store them long-term. “Now, Edward, about our payment…”

There’s a girl with red braids near your window, the only one not on a bike. When you give her a friendly smile, she glowers and plants a sneakered foot on her skateboard, rocking it aimlessly up and down the asphalt.

In the back, Goblin is basking in the attention of the rest of the group; another boy with a close-cropped Afro rubs the dog’s head lovingly, while a girl with serious brown eyes and shoulder-length curls (Eddie’s relative, maybe?) makes tentative strokes down Goblin’s side.

There are two other kids- boys, you think- near the back of the trailer, but their backs are to the group, close as two people can be while still on their own bikes. Dustin’s conversation floats back into your comprehension- he’s making a valiant attempt at twisting Eddie’s arm where ‘payment’ is concerned.

Untwistable, Eddie shakes his head. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, curling around his jaw with the overdramatic move he makes to throw the gear shift into drive. “All right, enough, ya scoundrel. Round up your crew and go be a pain in someone else’s ass.”

Unperturbed, Dustin straightens, grasping his bike’s handlebars with one hand and wrapping a tight fist around the metal of the truck’s side mirror.

This seems to be some sort of signal, because the rest of the group latches on like some choreographed play- hands, one from each kid, coming up to grip at any free space left on the truck, shoulders hunching forward as if preparing to be shot forth like a rubber band.

“Damn kids,” Eddie grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice as he lifts his foot from the brake.

The truck lurches forward, and with it, the extra wheels; Goblin’s revved-up barking joins the excited chatter and whooping of the kids hanging on, a joyous cacophony of sound as you all head further down the empty street together.

Eddie picks up speed; there’s a twinge of fear as you watch the speedometer tick up to 10- and then he honks, once, and in perfect synchronicity all the kids let go. Some of them pedal furiously to keep up the momentum, others- like the girl on the skateboard- take advantage of the added speed to simply coast.

Soon enough, their cheerful waves and laughter recede into the distance along with the rest of the town as Eddie keeps his boot on the gas.

The heat in town was dizzying, so you’re relieved when the road dips and bends into the comfort of shade- courtesy of the wild forest flanking either side.

It’s about a ten minute drive to Munson Farms, and on the way, Eddie tells you all about it. You learn that his Uncle Wayne raised him, taught him how to work and live off the land- when Wayne retired and moved a few miles down the road, Eddie took over.

“Not really a lucrative venture, farming,” he says, trees passing in a blur as he navigates the road curves with ease. “But the end of summer Town Fair pays well, ‘specially for sheep penning demonstrations. Got a couple of dairy cows, chickens that won’t stop laying- between that ‘n Wayne’s orchards, we got more than enough to get us through the winter months.

And then there’s the hives-”

“Bees?” Unable to help the interruption, your head whips in his direction, interest piqued.

“Yup. Got about six hives right now in the southern pasture. Don’t know much about ‘em, truthfully- got a friend named Chrissy, comes once a week or so to make sure they stay maintained. I mostly just help come harvesting time, and try to stay out of her way for the rest.”

There are about a thousand other questions you want to ask- what kind of bees? Are they near your garden plot to promote pollination? Any bears in the area?- but you tamp down your excitement, settling on a neutral, “Cool,” before looking out the window again.

The sign for Munson Farms is handmade, too, but upkept much better than the one in town- it swings gently in the breeze on metal links as Eddie turns down the adjoining dirt road. About a quarter mile in, you start to see signs of life- fence lines running through the trees and the shush of a nearby water source- and then, a house.

It’s small, probably no more than a bed, bath, and kitchen inside. There’s a red brick chimney separating the straight lines of the blue-painted wood planks, ivy crawling up one side to frame the eastern-facing window.

On the covered porch, a big, long-haired white dog lifts its head at the sound of the truck pulling in. Goblin gives a greeting bark, practically tripping over his oversized paws to launch out of the truck even as Eddie gripes at him to “Be careful, dammit!”

As you follow Eddie out of the truck and to the porch, the white dog shambles over on a stiff back leg, ignoring the playful jumping and licking Goblin gives in favor of coming up to sniff you.

“This is Rosie,” Eddie says, patting her greying muzzle with a gentleness that twists something in your stomach. “She’s near older than me, was a great livestock guardian ‘til her age caught up. Been trying to train up Goblin to take her place but between you ‘n me I think his head might be full of rocks.”

As if he’s aware of the insult, Goblin gives an indignant yip and paws at Eddie’s knee; he gets laughed off by the two of you, zipping away with a deep sense of importance into the nearby forest while Rosie shambles back to her cozy porch spot.

It smells incredible, here, surrounded by so many trees- you take a deep breath, inhaling the rich pines, the verdant underbrush. Just past the house, there’s a fenced-in area with various plants spilling out of raised garden beds. You can almost smell the summer strawberries and crisp veggies.

On the other side of the fence is a plastic-sheeted greenhouse, LED lights inside making the whole thing glow artificial purple. Eddie catches you staring, then gives a wink, laying one long finger to the side of his nose. “Don’t go tellin’ the Sheriff on me and I’ll give you a joint for your troubles.”

“Deal.” Wasn’t a hard sell at all- at the rate this is going, you’re dying to get high with this man.

Eddie grabs your pack out of the truck bed and leads you across the dirt road, pointing out the fence lines in the distance, and a barn that you can just make out through a gap in the trees.

“Sheep, cows, horses, all that way. This way-” his hand rests between your shoulder blades, steering you towards a boot-worn path, “-is the guest shack. Beehives’ll be just down the hill from where you’re stayin’.”

He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at you- “I’ll take you to see ‘em tomorrow. Promise. I just don’t want you goin’ by yourself and getting stung to death, y’hear?”

Not for the first time today, you wish, desperately, to tell him things you shouldn’t. I was actually an apprentice beekeeper for a year, I know my way around a hive. Studied entomology and agriculture in college before I lost myself in the worst mistake of my life. You know that pesky little J I’ve got on my wrist…?

But if you start talking, you won’t stop. And besides, you’re not planning to stay here long enough for your secrets to matter.

So instead, you press your lips into a line, looking solemn, nodding in agreement until he’s satisfied and continues on.

The dirt path leads right to the shack, and Eddie opens the door to let you in. It’s about the size of a studio apartment- wood stove and sink next to the bathroom door, twin bed draped with a thick quilt budged up under the single window. Small, but homey and clean.

As you take it in, spinning in a slow circle, Eddie sets your duffel next to the bed and runs a hand over the top of his head, haloed frizz of his hair springing back into place. “Ain’t much, I know- usually just host the town rascals; they bring their sleeping bags and fight over who gets the mattress. But the sheets are washed, and-”

“Eddie.” You stop his rambling with a hand to his arm. “Seriously, it’s great. Better than great. I was probably gonna end up sleeping on the streets tonight, and you saved me from that. So… thank you. I mean it.”

The vulnerability in your own voice catches you off guard, but you decide to lean in to it. Eddie’s been nice for no reason- or, rather, because he seems to be a kind person- and you want to make sure he hears how grateful you are for a place to stay.

He’s staring down at your hand on his bare arm, eyes clouded with something you can’t parse out; you draw your hand back, which prompts him to speak- “Shit, darlin’. It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you like.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insist, arms crossing over your chest, rocking back on your heels. There’s a sudden swell of panic rising like bile in your throat; this morning, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now, you think it’ll kill you not to stay.

“Listen-” Eddie’s eyes snap up at the urgency in your voice, but you manage to push through- “I know I didn’t tell you much, about where I came from, or what I did to end up…”

On my own. The words stick in your throat, tears pricking threateningly at the corners of your vision. “...out here. But I grew up on a farm. I’m used to working livestock, riding horses- I can be helpful. Can earn my keep over the weekend, at least, doing whatever you need-”

Eddie interrupts with a shake of his head, your stomach plummeting until he says, “Got enough farmhands as it is, honey. Don’t need you getting your pretty hands dirty.”

“There has to be something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can clean-”

“Hey.” Eddie’s tone of voice slips into a low, soothing register, like you’re a spooked animal caught in a trap. He steps closer, and when you don’t flinch, he settles his big hands on the tops of your shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said earlier- I’m not expecting nothin’ from you. Okay?”

There’s gotta be some sort of magical effect happening, an old Celtic carving under the floorboards, maybe a witch's spell braided in with the dried herbs hanging on the far wall. You’ve never felt so looked at before, like you’ve swam beyond your depth and Eddie’s hands are a life raft.

His eyes flit around your face, taking in the expressions you’re surely flickering through before he says, quietly- “If you want, how ‘bout you stay ‘til the end of summer. Help out where you can, and come Fair time, I’ll deal you in on the profits.”

You open your mouth to argue, and smooth as butter, his right hand slips up your shoulder, tattooed fingers wrapping firm around the back of your neck, thumb tapping the pulse point under your jaw, insistent- “This way, you’ll have cash enough in your pocket to go anywhere you want. It’s a good deal and you damn well better take it.”

You wonder if he can feel the jackrabbit pulse of your heartbeat under his thumb. When you nod, he gives a dimpled smile, satisfied. “Good. Now I’ll let you settle in and get washed up for supper. Come on over to the main house when you’re ready.”

Before the door shuts behind him, Eddie adds, “And don’t get too excited. I ain’t much of a cook, neither.”

After his footsteps have retreated down the path, you collapse onto the mattress, springs squeaking. You flip to stare up at the ceiling, running your fingertips over the ghost of his touch branded against your neck, almost nauseous from elation.

A whole summer. On Eddie’s farm. With Eddie.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, you get up to unpack your duffel, then fold your meager clothes supply neatly into the top drawer of an old oak dresser in the corner, still room enough for your canteen.

The last thing in your bag is a twine-wrapped leather pouch. Your butterfly knife makes quick work of the knots, and then, the last of your most precious things in the world are laid out on the bed.

A certificate of completion from Indiana U’s Beekeeping Department, folded and creased but still valid, signed by your last field mentor.

A driver’s license with your old address, square photo of a younger and more hopeful you smiling back.

And lastly, an engagement ring. Gold, with a teardrop-shaped diamond center and sparkling accent stones trailing up either side of the band.

It twinkles when you hold it up to the evening sunbeam streaming through the window; reflective pinpricks of light scatter and dance across the quilt.

In quick succession, you slide everything back into the pouch, securing it with the drawstring before burying it inside the hidden pocket of your bag.

Then, you shove the duffel under the bed until it hits the wall, and turn away to wash up for dinner.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #cowboy!eddie #cowboy!eddie x honey!reader #cowboy!eddie x reader

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pantherxrogers · 4 months

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Pookie since you’ve made a sugar daddy Yunho version, might as well do a Seonghwa. Plss pookie 😩😩 I’m on my knees. 💵💵💳💳I’m begging youu

blurb: sugar daddy!Seonghwa x fem!reader

🖤 pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader

🖤 warnings: slight angsty, reader is kinda bratty, mostly fluffy/cute, a little suggestive

🖤 summary: even though she failed her driver's license exam, Seonghwa can't help but spoil his wife 🤭

🖤 a/n: POOKIE!!!! I’m so sorry that this took so long 😭 it’s been a busy week for me. I hope you love it! Thanks for your request! 😘

Seonghwa gives husband material, so he's a sugar husband lmao. Enjoy!! ☺️

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

The soft chime of the alarm system makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nestle further into the duvet, ashamed to face Seonghwa.

But, of course, your husband already knows. His heart aches when he sees you, a ball under the covers, used tissues littered across the silk sheets.

"Hi jagi, you okay?" He hums, sitting next to your swaddled form.

"I am an idiot." It comes out muffled, your face buried in the bedding. The rational part of you knows he'd never be upset with you, but you can't help feeling ashamed.

"You're the smartest person I know," he coos, slowly pulling the covers away from your face. His heart shatters when he takes in your features.

Your eyelids are slightly puffy, obviously caused by tears. Your lively curls are smushed down, a blatant sign that you've been in here for hours, stewing in your despair.

"I'm an adult who failed a driver's license exam," you cry out, feeling the tears well up again.

"You're my sweetheart who failed a very difficult driving exam in a foreign country," he tries to reason with you, wanting to take away your sadness.

“I’m never going to be able to drive anywhere,” you sob, nestling further into Seonghwa’s warmth. He pulls you into his lap, his suit be damned.

He almost chuckles to himself, knowing that you won’t be driving anywhere regardless. Your personal driver takes you wherever you please, but he knows how important this is to you. So, it’s important to him too.

The only sound in the bedroom are your soft cries and sniffles. Seonghwa’s hands draw slow circles on your back, doing his best to comfort you. Of course it’s working.

He’s always had a naturally calming energy. It’s what drew you to him in the first place. Eventually, your breaths level out, chest rising and falling in time with his firm one.

“I've got an idea,” he murmurs, standing up while cradling you in his arms.

“Hwa, I don't feel like shopping right now,” you cry out, hiding your face in his neck. Inhaling his cologne is almost like a grounding exercise. The woody, clean scent brings you comfort.

“I know, baby. I know.” He’s walking you down the hallway now, towards the front door of your estate.

"Then, where are you going?" you mumble, not in the mood to fully articulate anything. Normally, shopping would be a quick fix, but not even a new pair of shoes can help you now.

He ignores your question, still making the long journey towards the front door. Finally, arriving at the bottom of the marble staircase, his heart leaps in anticipation of the surprise. He's sure this will be able to pull you out of your funk.

“Fine, ignore me then,” you grumble, but sink further into his hold. It’s nice to have a change of scenery, even if he is just walking you through your home.

“You smell good, jagi,” he hums, making a show of sniffing your neck, inciting your giggles. “Maybe I should just take you back to the bedroom,” he grunts.

“Well, now I want to know what you were planning!” You huff, knowing he’s joking but also wanting to see this surprise. He chuckles in response, finally reaching the front door handle.

Once outside, Seonghwa gently places you on your feet, your Versace slippers protecting you from the hot stone. “I can’t see,” you whine out, already feeling agitated from the heat.

Seonghwa instinctively raises his hand above your brow, shielding you from the sunlight. The simple gesture warms your heart, prompting you to place a kiss on his shoulder.

It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the bright day light, but Seonghwa’s makeshift shade speeds up to process.

He falters when you let out a high pitched shriek, chasing after your smaller form running towards the new car in your driveway.

“You got me a PORSCHE 911?!” You exclaim, eyes locked on the smooth, red paint. It’s the car of your dreams. Sporty, sexy, sleek and perfect.

“Anything for you, jagi,” he hums, pleased by your reaction.

“Hwa, it’s beautiful!” Your voice is still louder than normal, but you can’t help it.

The bad mood from the failed test is a distant memory. Your mind conjures up images of driving around in the car, curls blowing in the wind while Seonghwa’s hand rests on your thigh.

Warm, strong arms embrace you from behind, Seonghwa nestling into your neck to place a soft kiss.

"I'm glad you like it, beautiful," he murmurs, inhaling your scent. His nose traces along your neck, the light sensation causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.

"I love it," you breathe out, overwhelmed by the feel of him. The way his lean body shields you from the sun, wrapping you in his love makes your heart beat faster. The excitement from the new car is still there, but your mind clings to your love for your husband.

"Then, let's take it for a spin," he hums, reaching into his pocket for the keys. The reminder of your failure almost dampens your mood, before Seonghwa leads you over to the driver's seat. "No pouting, jagi."

"But-"

"Get in, please," he commands, opening the door for you. "I'll make sure you pass that test."

He closes the door softly, walking around to take his place in the passenger seat. When you start up the car, you feel a warm hand on your thigh, making you smile to yourself.

Maybe you won't be sailing down the streets with the top down today, but you're certain your husband is going to help you accomplish that soon.

#𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

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angel-eyes05 · 1 year

Text

the scent of you

pairing: fem!hispanic!supervillain!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after chasing him for so long, you've finally caught him. the infamous spiderman 2099. and now you were going to show him what it was like to be in your grasp

warnings: nsfw, dom!reader, sub!miguel, he's kinda bratty too ngl, bdsm, bondage (miguel is being tied up yet again the poor guy), p in v unprotected, reader's a bit of a psychopath lmao, lots of blood lmao reader has blood manipulation powers so you can imagine how that goes for someone whos constantly compared to a vampire, no use of y/n, no use of miguel's name cause you don't know it lol

word count: 2.0k

notes: im literally writing this at 1 am as a desperate attempt to get my activity back up since no one's reading bite the hand lmao. so of course my first resort is actual porn. also, im aware miguel isn't actually a vampire but i just wanted to give him some vampiric tendencies...just cause lmao its more fun like that. this was fun lets do it again some time lmao

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You’d always enjoy the hunt. In your line of work, one of Kingpin’s subordinates, it was the main thing you did. Catching those he sent you after, knowing you would always finish the job. Yeah sure, most of the time they were nobodies, but damn if you didn’t love the terrified look on their face just before you went for the kill.

Dea Tacita, the Roman goddess of the dead, was the name you were given by your victims. You earned it due to your silent killing style, just like how she was also nicknamed as “the silent goddess”. But while you might have been silent, your victims certainly were not. Your ability to manipulate others and your own blood led for particularly painful deaths indeed. Either forcefully ripping the ichor from their body, or slowly raising the temperature of it, basically boiling them alive.

This most certainly was not the life you had planned for yourself, but you’d grown to deal with it. Hell, sometimes you even loved it. You got high off of the final breathes of your victims once they were gone.

You were especially ecstatic today. You were put on the task by Kingpin a few weeks ago. A strange figure in a blue and red electronic suit had been popping in and out of Alchemax, stealing tech, and making his getaway in a neon orange, hexagonal portal. It sounded intriguing to you. It became even more intriguing after you saw his massive build for yourself during your first encounter. His tall stature, broad shoulders, and incredibly toned physique. It’s no wonder he beat you within your first couple of battles, even with your powers. But you didn’t mind.

Losing only meant that you got to see him again. And that he got to pin you down to the floor whenever you two were finished throwing fists at each other. But this was strange. You had gone up against him so many times and had lost, again and again and again. But you had gotten word from one of your own subordinates a few hours ago that he’d finally been caught. Why? Was he giving himself up? No way. You had to go see him for yourself. And then after, you would finish the job.

You strutted down the hallways to the containment room where he was supposedly being kept. You even caught yourself fixing strands of your hair and pressing down on your outfit, dressing up for the occasion. When you opened the door, your knees nearly went weak. The man was sitting there, on that chair that was definitely too small for him, unconscious with his head leaning back behind him. Plus, his mask was off, so now you could finally get a glimpse of that beautiful face of his. Sculpted cheekbones, wavy and slicked back brown hair, and slight gray streaks going through his hair. That wasn’t even the best part. The best part was what was around him.

Rope. Black strings of rope tying him to the chair, carving out each and every one of his muscles, put on by your lackeys, almost as if they knew. His beautiful pecs sitting there so pretty, almost calling out to you, and his legs spread wide open due to his unconscious state. You walked fully into the room, shutting and locking the doors behind you. You leaned on the table that sat in front of him, admiring his beauty. Once you were done undressing him with your eyes, you clenched your hand to get his blood flow to start moving faster, slowly waking him up.

“Hey there Tiger,” you said once his hypnotic, crimson red eyes finally fluttered open. He groaned in response. “Where the hell am I?” he asked, his low drowsy voice sending butterflies into your stomach. “Don’t worry, that won’t be a problem for you soon enough,” you responded, getting up from your lean to walk up closer to him. He squirmed around lightly in his bondage. “You’ve been a little thorn in Kingpin’s side for the past couple of weeks, haven’t you now?” “If thorn in his side means protecting the people of this city, then yeah I guess I have,” he said back, a little strained. You walked up behind him, one hand on his shoulder, and the other knitted into his hair, massaging his scalp. His eyes closed, soft sighs leaking from his lips as your fingers intertwined with his hair. “Mhm,” was all you responded with.

A quick whimper escaped him when you abruptly yanked his hair back so he could look you in the eyes. “That means you’ve been causing trouble for me too, Tiger.” His breathing was heavy as he stared up into your eyes. “So why don’t we just take care of this nice and quickly, hm?” You pushed his head back forward.

“Would you mind elaborating on tha-.” He was quickly cut off with a groan as you attached your mouth to the crook of his neck, pressing warm kisses into it and light sucks. You made your way all along his neck to his collarbones, finding your way to sit on his lap in the meantime. You could feel his already rock hard cock underneath you. So he did plan this, you thought to yourself. You decided to play along into his little game. You separated your lips from his chest, wrapped your hand underneath the ropes, and yanked him up to you. “Your suit’s digital right? So you can control it with your thoughts?” you asked gently. He nodded. “Take it off.”

His facial expression didn’t budge. “Or what, huh?” You smirked. His expression quickly changed though when he felt his body getting hotter and hotter. It changed again, a strained whimper coming from him, when you yanked his hair backwards again. “Take. It. Off.” Next thing you knew, his tan skin was peaking out from where his suit used to be. The suit must have been a thin layer, because his bare cock underneath your ass now felt just as hard, if not harder, than before.

You smiled at him. “Much better.” You grabbed his face, but instead of doing what he expected, which was to smash your faces together, you leaned in slowly to him, lips just barely grazing, before you pulled away again. You kept doing this, until he eventually started whining, even going as far as to reach his face forward to yours, getting a chuckle out of you. “Ay coño mamita, would you just get it over with already?” he whined. You smiled at him. “Paciencia querido, paciencia. Mal recompensa que más tarde.” You confirmed this with him once you lifted up your ass and dragged one of your hands to his cock, teasing the tip ever so slightly.

Though even that made his hips jerk forward into you. You stood up, leg on each outside of the chair, teasing at both his cock and his lips. His whines were driving you crazy as you edged him on. After getting tired of it all, the man was finally able to get a hold on your lips. Once he smushed them together with yours, hands still tied back to the chair, you didn’t reject it, and went all in. One hand on his cheek, the other at length, you slipped your tongue in between his lips. You quickly pulled away though when you felt a hard bite down on your tongue. You removed your hand from his penis quickly as you inspected your tongue. “¿Qué mierda?” you asked, agitated. “Ay, discúlpame. Pero no pude evitarlo,” he said, almost as if biting you was on instinct. You wiped your now bleeding tongue with your thumb, admiring the maroon liquid that you had grown attached to. You used your power to collect it all up into the air, elongating it into a stream of blood.

You had noticed though, that the Spider-Man’s gaze was pinned on the the ichor. That’s right. The man was basically a vampire. Driven by an unnatural thirst for blood. It was something pulled right out of a 1930s horror movie. And right now you were tempting him, waving his food in front of his face. “You want it, hm?” His eyes didn’t even move away from it when he nodded. You let out a low chuckle, then released your clutch on it, letting the blood fall onto your lap. Once you see his eyes dart down to your thigh (him even going as far to reach his mouth down to it), you yank his bondage towards you and put a hand back down to his crotch, strongly twisting his balls.

He grunts and moves his eyes back to your low eyes. “Only good boys get fed. Are you gonna be a good boy for me, Spider-Man?” He didn’t respond, probably out of embarrassment. You then give a cruel squeeze to his balls. “Ok, ok, ok, I will!” he yelped out. “You’ll what?” you teased, hands still squeezing. He sighed. “I’ll be a good boy for you, mommy.” You smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

You connect your lips back to his, and he slips his tongue in almost right away to lick off the rest of your blood from your tongue. You slip off your underwear, and sit down on his cock, using one of your free hands to guide it into you. You both moaned into each other’s mouths as he entered you. You preferred to have teased him for a little longer, but to be honest, you were starting to get a little antsy for him too.

You thrusted, hard, onto his cock, making sure to get his tip onto all your sweet spots. He moved his mouth down your neck and collarbone, leaving sweet kisses and hickeys where his mouth once was. It took everything out of him to not sink his teeth into your neck. He even seems to make his way down to your chest, using the open boob window in your dress to stuff his face into your breasts, almost seeming to get lost in them as he motorboats you. It’s slightly immature, but you were too busy indulging in the ferocity of his cock to care, as he made your pussy his own.

He eventually moves back up to your mouth. In between kisses, you manage to get out, “Why did you get caught.” “¿Qué quieres decir?” he sighs out. “I mean, I tried, ngh, to beat you. How did they catch you, and n-not me.” He takes a while for his answer, more focused on trying to figure out how to get himself further in you. “Because, I needed to see you again.” “Why?” “Your smell.”

You sighed into his mouth as a question. “You smell like blood. Overpowering. Intoxicating. Casi como un hechizo.” You pull away to look him in the eyes.

“I couldn’t just leave without knowing what your pussy feels like, mi reina.”

You chuckled a little bit. “Eres una puta.” He smirked. “Sólo por ti, mamita.”

You both were finally starting to reach your climaxes. He decided to take the fall and finish first. He let out groans, grunts, and whimpers as he came in your sweet pussy. Once he was finished, you let out your orgasm, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and moaning into his bare chest for leverage. Once you both finished, you slowly remove yourself from him. You use your fingers to clean up and taste the mess below you by your dripping cunt. Miguel lets his suit come back onto him, his head leaning forward and panting.

Realizing you can’t let him out, you clench your fist again to slow the movement of his blood, putting him back under. You fix your hair and press down on your outfit. But before leaving the room, you turn back to look at him. He looked so pretty sleeping there. You quickly walked up to him, and planted a deep, soft kiss into his scruffy cheek.

As you left the room, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t kill him. You couldn’t finish the job. It would’ve been so easy to do it right here right now. You didn't even know his name. There was zero connection between the two of you, other than what just happened. This had never been a problem before. So why was it now?

Why?

-----------------

a/n: im so tired its currently 4 am i need sleep lmao im so tired i have got to stop going to bed at 3-5 am

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spiderman

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chuluoyi · 2 months

Note

After reading sylus fanfic and searching about him in internet. I understand why girls on knees now. I can see vision what you want, chuu. Oho. Sylus is being rough, rougher, throwing you into bed, taming your bratty attitude, being sassy to you...

But Gojo can do it too, I am convincing myself that he can do it too *hugging fuwago tightly* —'this is your weak, right?' — His hysteria side will prevent me from falling into another man's chest T.T

Sylus eng voice is handsome btw, I imagine he is voicing sylus fanfic while reading it. Chuu is being bratty challenger so sylus can give his bold jealous treatment on bed. I see vision 🍼😌

HEHE milk nonnie now you see what my vision is🙂‍↕️ but don’t expose me🫣 rough rougher and throwing you on the bed is just—😋

he can he can🙂‍↕️ from everything i’ve seen in gojo x reader tag, any kind of smut is possible 💁🏻‍♀️ LMAO

and sylus’ jp voice is also so delicious!!!😭 omg it’s so deep and at first he sounds so completely evil but it’s clear when he starts getting softer for the mc :’) i personally love the jp voice more actually

#—chu’s mailbox 📬#💌: 🍼#there’s this one voiceover after his battle that goes like:#‘are you up for a joyride later?’#and the mc is like ‘where are you taking me?’#and he responds with ‘guess’ but in jp voice it sounds so tempting like :’)#or it’s just me who’s down bad JEJSJ

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thepuckishrogue · 2 years

Text

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: What You Want, What You Need

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | f!reader | m!reader ||

|| javier m.list | rdr m.list | writing blog ||

↠ Requested By: The absolutely unreal levels of thirst I have for this man ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: So very NSFW ((is2g, if I see any minors interacting with my stuff it’s ~on sight~)) ↠ Chronology: In the here and now because it’s a Modern AU ↠ CWs/TWs: There a lot, but the biggest are mild exhibitionism, m!dom/sub dynamics, rough treatment/sex (Reader receiving), jealous Javier (but make it non-toxic), light choking (Reader receiving), and orgasm denial/control (Reader receiving). For a complete and more detailed listing see the note below the cut. And if I missed anything, please let me know!! ↠ Betas? Lmaoooooo… ↠ Total WC: 7.5k~

“Oh fuck you, Escuella.” “You’d best watch that mouth of yours, mi amor. Just because daddy-dearest can’t take you over his knee anymore doesn’t mean your papi won’t.”

A Modern AU in which you take your teasing a little too far at a friend’s party. In return Javier will make sure that you get what you deserve before you get what you need.

He’s using papi SARCASTICALLY ffs lmao

‼ PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM NO LONGER POSTING NEW WORKS TO THIS ACCOUNT ‼

The only reason I’m putting the GN version on here is because it doesn’t make sense to break them up. If you want to keep up with my work, head over to my writing blog, linked above. ((that’s where the link for my rdr m.list will take you, btw))

Anyways! Sorry it took me so long to write this. I have no excuse aside from being lazy and not wanting to cringe my way through reading my old writing lol.

Also! I’m trying something new, as far as translations go. Instead of having them all at the top of the post, they’re now directly under the paragraph they appear in. Imo this makes for an easier read, but if it’s having the opposite effect let me know; if enough people are having problems with it I’ll go back to the old format.

((also, also—I’m naught but a basic ass English speaker and thusly all translations are still internet-sourced, so if they’re wrong please refrain from coming for me lol))

💦 Tags: Reader uses they/them pronouns || Reader has ambiguous anatomy || Reader is POC friendly || M!dom/sub dynamics (with Reader being a low-key bratty sub until they sweeten up) || public teasing, but make it ~sexy~ (Javi receiving) || fingering (Reader receiving) || orgasm denial (Reader receiving) || penetrative sex (Reader receiving) || rough treatment/sex (tho not overly so) || one SARCASTIC use of “daddy/papi” || lots of pet names (including that “good baby” type beat, Reader receiving) || Reader purposefully making Javi jealous (in a playful, non-toxic way lol) || Charles is an accomplice in the aforementioned foolishness (there’s an… implied understanding there*) || naturally that means there’s a certain level of exhibitionism but it’s all R-rated stuff || arm binding via a scarf (Reader receiving) || light choking (Reader receiving) || lots of praise (Reader receiving b/c that’s Javi’s jam) || voice kink stuff (goes both ways) || ((write that off to OP being a self-indulgent shit once again lol)) || orgasm control (Reader receiving)

*So basically after fucking around Reader finds out that Javi’s not one to be teased after he winds them up only to leave them wanting. Reader, wanting to get back at him for not finishing the job, utilizes one of their mutual friends (Charles) to stoke a little jealousy, but I swear it’s not as toxic as it sounds lmao. It’s less about actually making him jealous and more about fraying his ironclad sense of control by triggering his possessive streak… Which, okay, still sounds bad I suppose, but there’s being possessive and then there’s being possessive in a hella toxic way; Javi is the latter. What’s more it’s implied that the three of them have an understanding of sorts, so it’s all in good fun.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?” ((my love))

Yes, your body screams as his hand works against your center, the drag of his callouses creating a delicious friction with every pass over the hot, sodden flesh. Your hands grip at his shoulders, hard and nearly tight enough to bruise, as you grind up into his touch.

You know you must look thoroughly debauched right now—head thrown back to expose more of your neck to his care, lips slightly parted under pants and half-formed curses, skin flushed and sweat-slick, and eyelids weighed down by the weight of your lust—and that’s saying nothing of the state of your clothes. Items have been hastily tugged and rearranged to get the most needed parts exposed in the quickest amount of time possible. You clearly look like you’re in the process of being ravished, but Javier…

The man couldn’t be more put together if he tried.

There’s not a hair out of place, and despite the desperate hold you have on his shirt, the damn thing hasn’t even so much as wrinkled. The only sign that he’s even the least bit affected by all of this is the tent in his pants and the desire that darkens his gaze, but you suppose that’s to be expected. If he wasn’t so damnably good at keeping his composure you wouldn’t have bothered with doing the things that have led you to this moment.

An ‘accidental’ brush of your fingers against his crotch, whispered filth as you casually rested your weight against his back, the instant transformation of a simple spoon into something far more erotic once it passed your lips—nothing was off limits, not when you were so hell-bent on breaking him. It’s all consensual, this game the two of you play. Sometimes the teasing is mutual, other times it skews a bit more against one of you, but the end goal is always the same: to bring the other so close to the edge that they willingly hurl themselves over it.

Today’s party had been the perfect excuse to indulge in a bit of play, and your man had been all too willingly to serve himself up as prey. This, of course, was due to the fact that he was more than confident in his victory. The thrill of the challenge was the only thing that gave the get-together any allure; sure, Karen and Sean do hold the crown for best house parties in your friend group, but you’re not always sure that they’re worth the (usually hangover induced) headache.

You’d brought you’re A-game, starting with wearing an ensemble that you know he couldn’t resist. His mind had clearly gone blank when you first emerged from the bedroom, though he quickly rearranged his face into something cavalier before telling you to “–get your cute ass in the car so we can get gone.” Your fingers played along the inseam of his pants for the entire length of the ride, but aside from an initial arching of his brow he was annoyingly nonplussed. You had stepped things up considerably once you were inside, but despite essentially giving a plastic spoon a blowie (just out of view of an unsuspecting Arthur and Lenny) the man hadn’t done so much as smirk in your direction.

After a good twenty minutes got you nothing but an ache between your own thighs you finally gave up and decided to try to enjoy the party. With a cup of something mixed and fruity in hand you headed off to join your friends, but before you could make your way into the living room a familiar hand was curling itself around your arm and dragging you off in the opposite direction.

It just fucking figures that being ignored would be the back-breaking straw. You would’ve been mad at it if it wasn’t gonna result in yours getting blown out.

Neither of you said anything as Javier led your deeper into the house, not that there was much to say anyway. It was pretty damn obvious from the set of his jaw and the hunger in his eyes that you had won, and it could never be said that you weren’t a gracious winner …self-satisfied smirk notwithstanding.

His lips were on yours before the door had even fully shut behind you. You had laughed a bit at his eagerness, but the taunting sound soon morphed into a moan when your back slammed into the wall just beside the thing. Eyes smoldering and smile wicked, he groped at your clothed form in a way that had you writhing and grinding against him within seconds. It was only once you were a panting mess that he finally, finally bypassed the layers to touch you properly; hot and wet, proof of your arousal met his questing fingers, electing a groan that was nothing short of orgasmic. Things had moved quickly from there, and the rest…

“I said—‘is this what you wanted?’”

The words are growled against your ear, though the harsh pant of the breaths that follow travel downwards until he’s nipping at the corner of your jaw. A broken mewl pushes past your lips at its sting, and though the sound leaves him shuddering against you, it’s clearly not enough to sate him. His free hand connects with your ass in a resounding slap, one that while not overly hard is still enough weaken your knees considerably.

“Yes,” you groan out, the word catching in your throat as his thumb rubs a fresh pearl of precum over your sensitive flesh. “Fuck! Javi, yesss…”

Hot, bothered, and more than a little desperate you rut against his hand with hard little jerks. Your borderline frantic movements and needy little sounds leave him chuckling darkly as he works you over with practiced ease. His tone is condescending as hell as he pulls more and more out of you with lascivious words murmured in a husky timbre. He’s playing you like a goddamn fiddle, but you don’t care, can’t care—about this or anything else that’s not your impending release.

“Baby, I need, fuck, I need–”

“Shhh, I know.”

And you don’t know how he knows, just that somehow he always, impossibly does, and now is no exception. He descends to his knees with a smoothness that only repetition can bring, nudging your legs wider so that you’re more fully on display for him. He looks up at you then, wanting to make sure that you’re watching—as if you could ever be looking anywhere else. His eyes flicker with a familiar mischief as he runs the flat of his tongue over your heat and you damn near scream at the wet, warm trail it cuts.

“Careful now, cariño, you don’t want them to hear us– Oooo…” The word fades into a rolling chuckle when your hips give an involuntary thrust forward that has him amending his statement. “Or maybe you do? Mmmm… You like that, huh? You like the thought of them hearing what I do to you? Hmm, mi bebé travieso?” He all but purrs the last word as he presses a kiss to your quivering thigh before putting his mouth to work again. He alternates between gentle sucks and teasing flicks of his tongue against your most sensitive areas; meanwhile his fingers gather up a measure of your moisture before pushing inside of you to start up a lazy pace. This treatment lasts for a few glorious seconds only to come to a stop so abrupt that it leaves all of your muscles seizing up in confusion. ((sweetie || my naughty baby))

You know what he wants—an answer to a question, that if he were less petty, he wouldn’t expect a real reply to—just as you likewise know that he won’t start again until he gets it. And so you take a shaky approximation of a breath before managing to stutter out, “J-just… returning the favor.”

Laughing, he takes your meaning instantly. With as many times as you’ve been forced to listen to Karen and Sean go at it on various occasions, it does only seem fair. Of course, your reply is more copout than actual answer, but thankfully he lets it go. For now. You’ll definitely be talking about this again at some point in the future—probably later on tonight, actually—but for right now he’s content enough to go back to ruining you with his deft fingers and talented mouth.

You’ve always been fascinated by Javier’s hands. They’re slightly larger than what you would expect from a man his size, and yet somehow they don’t seem out of proportion to his body. They hold so much potential, both to create and to destroy—a point that is mirrored in the tattoos and scars that cover the dusk of his skin. You love to see them in motion, whether he’s doing something as mundane as tuning his guitar or something more perilous like playing with one of his many knives; the former is a particular point of fascination as you cannot help but to wonder if the skill transfers over to more carnal activities. The way his stroking thumb works in time with the bob of his fingers into your heat you’re inclined to say that yes, yes it does.

And his mouth…

Holy fuck, his mouth.

It doesn’t matter where it is he’s kissing you, having his lips pressed against your skin is always enough to leave you weak. Warm and pillow soft, they glide over you leaving a feverish trail of desire in their wake. Calloused fingers continue to work you open, adding to your pleasure in a way that sees your voice scaling higher, louder, as any lingering worries about being overheard are vaulted clean out of your head.

In this moment his only goal is to see you coming undone, and under Javier’s touch you’re a rapidly fraying thread. He’s loving every minute of this, you know he is, but—“If you can’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours quiet, amor, I know my cock can.”

“Oh my god.”

The throb your core gives is almost painful in its intensity as you imagine having him face fuck you until tears are spilling past the corners of your eyes before bending you over and absolutely ruining you, and you have to wonder just what this man has done to you. You were never this damn kinky before—or maybe you’ve always been a closet freak—either way since getting with Javi you have been turned completely out, and you’re not even mad about it, honestly. What you can do without, however, is his smug little laugh. Like yeah, he totally has a right to it, wrecking you the way he is, but still. Any saltiness you feel is quickly forgotten as the spooled pleasure in your stomach wrings itself tighter. Your bodies work in tandem creating the perfect rhythm, so fucking perfect, and you’re so fucking close, just a little more and then—and then he’s pulling away?

What?

“Nooo! Javier, why–”

“Orgasms are for good little loves,” he tells you simply as he rises back to his full height.

“You cannot be serious right now.”

But looking at him you know he is. Honestly you should’ve been expecting something like this—you had been teasing him for nearly twenty minutes before this all began—but you’d thought that your punishment was going to come in the form of him gagging you with his dick before fucking you until you screamed. But this… Well this is the other side of the coin that you’d forgotten to consider. Yes, he’s hard and yes, he wants this just as badly as you, but Javier’s more than willing to deny his own needs if it means winning this little game of yours. He’s petty like that, and what’s more he has the will to see it through.

Well fine then, you think with a pouty twist of your lips. If he wants to be that way I’ll just finish myself off and–

Fingers close tightly around your wrist before you can properly touch yourself. “What did I just say, bebé?” ((baby))

“And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do to and with my own body?” you ask with an arch of your brow. The bite of your words would be more effective, you’re sure, if they weren’t so damn breathy, but there’s little for that.

“Oh, mi amor,” he starts with a chuckle as he pins your hand to the wall beside your head, “you know exactly who I am.” He kisses you then, long and deep, and you find yourself melting under it despite your annoyance.

Damn this man and his silver everything! The thought drags its way through your sex-addled brain as your free hand twists itself in his shirt, though whether the action will lead to you pushing him away or pulling him closer you’re not sure yet, and before you can decide he’s breaking the kiss.

“Get dressed, cariño, we’ve got a party to get back to,” he breathes against your lips before pecking at them again.

“You can at least let me err, calm down some and clean myself up a bit–”

He shakes his head as he pulls away from you. “No, I don’t think so. I want you just like this, baby—all leaky and throbbing and wanting. I want you aching just as much as I am. It’s only fair, after all.”

Eyeing the bulge that’s seriously testing the tensile strength of his zipper you’re inclined to agree, reluctantly though it may be done. After all you are the one that kicked things off. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that you’re left to live with the consequences? Yeah, not so much. Fair’s fair, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Pouting all the while, you quickly set yourself back to rights—well mostly. Thanks to the hasty tugging of your prior urgency your clothes aren’t hanging like they’re supposed to and won’t be again until they’ve been washed and re-ironed, but there’s nothing to be done about that in the now.

You’re left to silently lament the fact that you’re about to take a mini walk of shame that hasn’t been entirely earned since you didn’t actually get any. Cutting your eyes over at the reason you’re in such a state you find that, aside from his very obvious arousal, the fucker looks as put together as ever.

“You suck, you know that?”

He snorts as he snakes an arm around your waist, guiding you towards the door. “Yeah, I do. I also lick and nip and tease and you love it.”

“Oh fuck you, Escuella.”

“You’d best watch that mouth of yours, mi amor. Just because daddy-dearest can’t take you over his knee anymore doesn’t mean your papi won’t.”

“Promises, promises,” you snark back, though there’s no denying the longing seated in your words.

His only reply is a dark little chuckle that leaves you throbbing with want and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. What’s worse is that you’re about to walk through a party full of all of your friends, and while it’s not the first time they’ve seen you flustered and frazzled like this the situation is still less than ideal. Thankfully the thought of having winks and suggestive comments tossed your way is enough to kill off any lingering lust, but this is going to be a long night either way—or is it?

A plan starts to come together in your mind as you hear Charles’s laughter floating in though the backdoor; he rarely ever laughs loud enough for it to be heard so far away, so you can only imagine what’s been said or done to garner such a reaction. Though his mirth usually runs on the quieter side of things, the man does have a mischievous streak that can almost rival Sean’s, and it’s only common sense and general kindness that keeps him from tapping into it more.

Tonight, however, he’s going to step outside of his self-imposed restrictions—you’ll make sure of it.

After all, your plan relies on it.

“What’s got you laughing so hard, Chuck?”

Charles doesn’t even bother with correcting you as he knows that you’re already well aware of how much he despises that nickname. You’re just looking to get a rise out of him, but unlike your boyfriend, he’s not so easily bated. Though to be fair to Javier, it did take you a good twenty or so minutes to finally break him—maybe more as whatever game it is you two are playing more than like started long before your arrival–

And is set to carry on for a while longer, if the state of them is anything to go by.

He’s hardly surprised to find that the pair of you are looking more disheveled than last you were seen. While Javier’s only slightly mussed, it’s more than obvious that you’ve been taken through your paces. There’s a wrinkle in your clothes that hadn’t been there before and your lips are plush in a way that says you’ve been kissed thoroughly and with a level of enthusiasm that would have left you moaning into the ministration as you grinded into your lover’s palm with needy little ruts of your hips…

He quickly averts his eyes as soon as the thought manifests lest you pick up on the way you’re affecting him—have always affected him, if he’s being honest. And it’s not just you. Javier is dangerously alluring in his own right, and he finds himself falling into his orbit more often than not. He’s never allowed himself to explore whatever it is he feels for either of you as you and Javier have always been a thing, though there’s no point in denying that there’s an attraction there, and a mutual one at that. Javier’s always been the more flirtatious out of the two of you, but when you have a mind to you can fluster him like nobody else. None of you have ever seemed truly interested in taking things beyond that level—yet.

Charles cannot help but to feel that one of these days there’s going to be a shift. The signs are all there, after all; the way you all gravitate towards one another, trading lingering touches and longing looks. Things that he would usually consider an invasion are much welcomed advances when they’re coming from the pair of you and he often finds himself reciprocating without any conscious thought. It’s all so confusing and thrilling and catalyzing that he cannot help but to crave more. Arthur has told him on several occasions to bite the bullet and make a move, but given that he’s dealing with an established couple he’s more than willing to follow your lead on this one.

In the now he gives you a response in the form of a nod towards one of the party’s hosts. Sean is just now scrambling his way back onto the deck (quite literally as he’s opted to climb over the railing instead of using the stairs like a normal person) after an overly-dramatic retelling of one of his more daring exploits had sent him tumbling off of it. Luckily for him the fall was a short one into relatively soft grass, so really it’s only his pride that’s been bruised. Seeing that his audience has increased by two he starts his story from the beginning and the pair of you listen with rapt attention–

Or, rather Javier does. You, however…

It starts out innocently enough, with you slumping against him and resting most of your weight against his shoulder. Charles contemplates draping an arm around you—it wouldn’t be odd of him as it’s a position that you’ve been in countless times before, but he doesn’t want to presume—but before he can think himself into a circle you’re snaking your arm around his waist. Your hold isn’t particularly tight, only really pressing in enough to keep you connected. After a few seconds you start to feather your fingers up and down his side in a move that he would’ve considered innocent if not for the wicked little smile on your face. There and gone in a flash, he finds himself looking at you more fully to be sure of what he saw; all he receives for his troubles, however, is a playful wink that leaves him batting down a burst of nerves.

It seems as if he’s unwittingly become a participant in whatever it is the pair of you have going on. He’s surprised, but he can’t say he’s opposed.

Steeling himself with a sigh, he finally allows his arm to drape across the breadth of your shoulders. The movement catches Javier’s eye from where he stands on Charles’ other side, as does the continued skittering of your hand. His expression as he takes this all in changes by degrees as he assesses you both separately; when looking at you there’s a knowing tint to his gaze that’s clouded with a banked lust, though when his eyes meet the taller man’s stare that knowingness sharpens into appraisal. Had the desire there dissipated Charles would have backed off immediately, but thankfully that isn’t the case. Javier gives you both a smirk that leaves Charles flushing in a way that gives him one more reason to love the dusk of his skin.

It’s apparent that Javier’s happy to let the two of you play, so Charles is content enough to let you do as you will. Your hands move higher and higher with each pass over the waffle-knit of his top until clever fingers are dancing up the back of his neck to gently tangle themselves in his nape. Nails scrape upwards into the loose wave of his hair in a move that nearly has him moaning out loud. He’s just able to bite down on the sound, but there’s nothing to be done for the way the rest of his body betrays him with a shiver. Having his hair played with has always been a weakness of his, but one that not many know of thanks to the boundaries that he’s set in place. The number of people who can say they’ve had the pleasure of obtaining this knowledge are few, and those who’ve gotten such a visceral reaction out of him because of it are fewer still.

Sounds seem to fade away as you continue to lull him with your ministrations, with not even the combined drunken yelling of Sean and Lenny’s conveyed anecdote being enough to pull him out of the stupor. He allows his mind to wander as you work; the images that flash through his head are ones that he usually reserves for hours far later than this one, when he’s alone with an ache between his legs that cannot be abated by anything but imaginings of the only two people who could reduce him to such a base state. His grip on you tightens unconsciously, forcing you more firmly against his chest and you’re quick you mold yourself against him.

Your pace is languid as you work him over with the repetitious scrape. It feels like he’s under the sweetness of your care for a small eternity, and he’s more than happy to stay lost for another eternity still, so when your fingers curl and tighten against his locks and tug there’s really no way for him to stop himself from crying out. Luckily the story has finally reached its end to a cacophony of laughter that’s just loud enough to drown out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a yelp of surprise and a moan. Thankfully everyone’s too drunk and-or preoccupied to notice the way his chest heaves and his eyes darken as he looks at you through heavy lids–

Well, everyone except for Javier. He’d honestly forgotten that the other man’s still here—that anyone’s here, really—but now his presence encompasses all of Charles’ attention.

“Alright, amor, you’ve had your fun,” he tells his partner. His tone speaks of mild amusement, though there is a sliver of something there—something dark and wanting, ravenously so—that leaves their breath hitching. To Charles, “It wasn’t very nice of them, starting something they know they can’t finish– Not tonight, at least. But don’t worry, ‘mano—next time, we got you.”

The words feel like they’re caught somewhere between a promise and a threat, but Charles finds that that only adds to their appeal. The pair of you say your goodbyes then, first to him and then to the group at large. A chorus of wolf-whistles and teases are given in response, with everyone having a pretty good idea of why you’re cutting out early, but if they suspect his role in things they’re kind enough not to mention it.

As Charles watches your retreating forms he runs a shaky hand through the length of his hair only to find that the motion doesn’t bring him the stability that it usually does. How can it, when he can still feel your phantom touch, the exquisite bite of your nails against the sensitive skin of his scalp…

These memories will continue haunt him, he’s sure—unable to be exorcised in full until he’s lying sweat-slicked and sated between two equally worn-out bodies.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?”

Javier’s thrusts can only be described as punishing, more so due to depth and force than speed. Your body jolts forwards with every snap of his hips, but the firm hold he has on the scarf that binds your arms keeps you from going too far—not that you want to be anywhere else but here, completely laid bare and at the mercy of the man at your back. The word ‘mercy’ used very loosely here as he is being absolutely ruthless and you’re loving every second of it.

Face down and ass up, he’s had you bent over the desk from nearly the moment you stepped into your bedroom, only stopping long enough to tie your arms behind your back. In all honesty you’re pretty sure this is the true reason he pushed so hard for its inclusion in the room—there’s definitely more appropriate spaces for it—but whatever. It’s not like you can complain when it gets such frequent use.

So yes, this exactly what you want, what you need…

“I asked you a question, baby, and I expect an answer,” he continues on in a low, demanding tone.

You try to reply, you swear you do, but whatever it is you manage to slur out between moans isn’t an adequate enough reply. Javier’s voice drops to something just above a true whisper as he leans more fully against you—close enough that you swear you can feel the beat of his heart against your back, close enough to feel the pant of his breath ghosting over your skin—with the sinuous roll of his hips slowing further.

“Forgot how to use your words already?” he tsks against the shell of your ear. “That’s okay, cariño. I know you wanna be good for me, so I’m gonna help you out…” Taking your confused sounding whimper for the question it is he chuckles before saying, “How? It’s easy—Imma fuck the answer out of you.” ((sweetie))

Before you can fully process his words he’s unwinding his hand from the cloth, pulling back, and pounding into you quick and hard. The feeling has you gasping out his name followed by a babbled yes-yes-YES that leaves him growling out his approval. He calls you his good baby then and the small bit of praise makes your brain fizz as your body reacts on instinct. Eager hips throw themselves back to meet his thrusts; though your positioning doesn’t really allow for much traction your efforts do earn you a few moans and curses of approval, at least.

“Mierda. Look at you. You like being fucked hard, huh? Like me taking you like this?” The words are little more than a rumble with how low his voice has dropped, and the change in timbre leaves you clenching up around him more. “Fuuck babe—that’s it, that’s– Fuck. Yeah, you love this shit. That why you were being such a little tease, yeah? Did you want me to fuck you ‘til you remember who you belong to?” ((shit))

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer this time, choosing instead to take your jaw in hand. His grip is just this side of bruising and well at odds with the gentle way his thumb strokes over your bottom lip. Your tongue snakes out mindlessly to flick at its calloused pad and you hum at the slightly salty taste of his skin. Javier hisses out a curse as you continue to lave over the digit, and you can practically feel his narrow-eyed stare from where it’s sure to be drilling into the back of your skull. Unwilling to relinquish even the least bit of control just yet, his palm slides downwards until it’s resting firmly against your neck. Long fingers easily encase the column, and while he doesn’t squeeze nearly as hard as he had been before there is a definite and steady pressure there. You know he’d sooner hurt himself before he would ever risk truly hurting you, but there’s still something undeniably alluring about feeling like you’re on the edge of something so dark and dangerous.

Your moan is slightly strangled as you lean more heavily into his hand, with your hole clenching especially hard as the oxygen vacates your lungs. In turn Javi grunts at the sensation even as his fingers squeeze just that little bit tighter, and in that moment you’re sure that a death of a different kind is close at hand. Spanish is falling from his lips much faster than your addled mind can ever hope to translate, but when he does finally switch back over to English he’s hardly saying anything you want to hear.

“What?” He gives a particularly hard thrust as you croak out the word, leaving you to damn near choke on it.

“You heard me, amor—don’t. You. Cum. After the shit you pulled tonight did you honestly think I was gonna let you cum so easily?”

Your replying whine is pitiful indeed, not that you actually expect to receive any sort of reprieve at this point. Still, that doesn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder and giving him your best pout. For his part your man mimics your expression, giving your neck a few soothing strokes before allowing his lips to pull off into a devious little smirk.

“Aww, look at you. There’s no need for all that, baby, I’m gonna give you what you want—not that you’ve actually earned it, not yet. You’ve been especially bratty lately; playing all these games, teasing me… I can’t just let that shit slide, so here’s how this is going to work: I’m gonna keep fuckin’ you good ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep, and you’re gonna take it for as long as I say. When I decide that you’ve learned your lesson I’ll let you cum, and if you go over the edge before then there will be consequences.”

And you know he’s as good as his word.

Despite him saying all of this between pants, sharp curses, and a few breathy moans there’s no way in hell you actually stand a chance of outlasting him. Even if his stamina wasn’t god-tier and his will just as solid, pure pettiness would see him holding out if it meant keeping you on the edge. And as for those ‘consequences’, you cannot even begin to guess at what they may be, but a part of you really, really wants to find out. You’re positive you’ll enjoy it—maybe not as much as him, but you’ll still have your fun.

Before you can make up your mind about whether or not your defiance would be worth it, his hand is leaving your neck to hold your hip steady. You gasp slightly, already lamenting the loss of pressure, only to have the breath knocked out of you by his next thrust. The force of it sends you reeling, with the only thing keeping you from face-planting being the hold your man has on you. Instead your sweat-slicked body is shoved further up the desk in a move that would’ve been extremely uncomfortable if you weren’t already so gone.

Wanting a bit more agency, Javi grabs up the length of cloth that dangles between you; his movements do not falter as he shores up his grip with a few twisting motions before pushing into you again and again and again. He sets up a brutal pace that sees his hip bones digging into the plush of your ass and his balls slapping against you with every forward push. This is the only bit of attention that anything other than your hole has received since leaving the party and you damn near sob at the brief flashes of stimulation.

You’re not even sure what nonsense is pouring out of your mouth at this point, but if it’s anything like the disjointed garble that’s currently floating around in your skull then it’s one flaming wreck of a mess. You can hardly go by Javier’s reaction as you’re pretty sure that you could be singing lullabies and he’d still be into it. He just loves to hear you—it doesn’t particularly matter what sounds you’re making so long as he knows they’re a result of the pleasure he’s bring you. You’re much the same honestly, though listening to him turn the velvety syllables of his native tongue into growls and groans in the heat of his passion is its own type of torture. His voice is already an aphrodisiac in its own right, but when he’s fallen as deeply into his lust as he has into you it becomes something otherworldly.

Your man’s words slowly begin to shift from admonishments for your earlier behavior into praise for “–taking your cock like un buen pequeño amor,” and you can only hope that means you’ll get what you need sooner rather than later. ((a good little love))

Time stops making sense as he continues to take you. You’re both hyperaware of its passage and not, with seconds impossibly feeling like hours, but the minutes they bleed into hardly even registers. Your need for release becomes this all-encompassing thing that dictates your every move, breath, and thought. It creates a thrumming want that invades all of your senses until there’s nothing outside of it. Even Javi’s voice becomes little more than a cluster of sounds that you’re just barely able to perceive, though one phrase breaks through the haze every time he says it:

“Don’t you cum, cariño.”

His words are both boon and bane.

They’re the only bit of sense to be found in the symphony of needy sounds and hammering hearts and the repetitive meeting of flesh, and yet at the same time they are the very chains that hold you back from the one thing you need most. Your body is demanding, screaming, begging for this to end one way or another, and soon. You’re sure that each new thrust will bring about your end, and yet you hold yourself back even as your legs shake from exertion and your arms ache from the strain. Those four words will not allow you to do any less.

When the tension in your arms lessens you honestly think the limbs have finally gone numb, but then you’re being pulled up against Javier’s hard chest and you realize he actually let go of the scarf. The jarring pace he’d been keeping up slows to a gentle roll that makes you grind into him with a desperate whimper before he stills his hips altogether. His lack of movement has you rutting against him like some crazed beast, but the only thing this nets you is a throaty chuckle that makes you throb all the more.

“Tan ansioso,” he breathes against your ear as well-toned arms pin you flush against an equally muscled chest. This leaves you unable to do anything more than whine, much to your annoyance and his continued amusement. “You really want to cum, don’t you?” ((so eager))

“Fuck! Javi, you know I do–”

“Then say the word, mi corazón.” ((sweetheart))

“Please.”

“‘Please’, what?”

“Please let me cum.”

The moan he lets out at your words comes from somewhere deep in his gut making you shiver with your want. The only thing better than hearing him make such deliciously wicked sounds is knowing that you’re their cause. He’s always so quick to tell you that he’s the only one that can make you feel the way that you do—and it’s true, he definitely gotten you addicted to his particular brand of carnality, but it’s fine since you know it goes both ways.

Javier presses a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your nape before nipping the skin there. “So good,” he purrs as his left hand snakes up to rub at your steadily leaking core. “Un bebé tan bueno para mí.” ((such a good baby for me))

His hand passes through the mess, smearing your arousal further until he’s zeroing in on your most sensitive area; all the while your hips wiggle against him in a desperate bid to rut into his palm properly. Unfortunately the movement does little for either of you aside from frustrating you further.

“There you go, teasing me again.”

“‘M not trying to,” you tell him, “just wanna feel good—wanna make us both feel good…”

Your trailing sigh turns into a moan when he thrust against you again. The movement is spastic, an involuntary response to the way that your walls flutter around him. He swears lowly before releasing you completely and pulling out; the sensation of his thick cock leaving you is good for all of two seconds before you realize that he’s not pushing back into you. For one panicked moment you think that he’s going to leave you tied up and aching, but before you can even form the first syllable of your plea he’s freeing your arms and turning you to face him. It’s the first time you’ve gotten a clear look at him since being bent over the desk and you’re pleased to find that he looks just as much of a mess as you do. Hair mussed, lips parted ever so enticingly, cheeks flushed, and dewy skin glistening so prettily under the warm-hued lights—he’s sex personified in this moment and the sight somehow makes you burn for him all the more.

Javier is drinking you in just as readily, being, as always, especially taken with your mouth. Heavily lidded eyes track your lips movements as you wet them, and when you bite into the plush skin he lets out a shuddering breath. A muttered “Fuck” is all the warning you get before his lips are crashing into yours while hands eagerly grip at your hips to pull you flush to him. The heat of his cock is like a firebrand between you, and the press of it against your skin has you instinctively writhing against it.

Your movements leave him shivering as he exhales harshly—the first sign that his self-control is starting to slip.

“Get on the bed, mi amor—wanna look in your eyes while I fuck you, wanna see you fall apart…” He breathes the words against your lips before taking the bottom one between his teeth just as you had a moment ago. The sting of his bite is soothed away by a swipe of his tongue before he’s kissing you again.

Somehow he has enough presence of mind to get you both moving and soon you feel something solid, yet yielding hitting the back of your legs. You’re just wobbly enough for the disturbance to take you off of your feet and Javier readily follows you down. So close to the one thing you both want, need, the kisses grow sloppier and more hurried. It takes a few moments for you both to get into a more settled position, but as soon as you do he’s lubing up again before pushing into you completely with one long stroke.

Your breath catches at the feeling of being full once again while he lets out a sound that’s half contented sigh, half growl, with the latter completely overtaking the former when you roll your hips up to meet his. The pace he sets is far less grueling than it had been when he was taking you from behind, but it’s no less maddening for the change. Long, deep strokes end with a languid snap that has him hitting something inside of you that leaves you damn near sobbing every time. It doesn’t take long for you to get back to that same level of torturous pleasure that you’d been drowning in minutes before and soon you’re clawing at his back and calling out his name like it’s the only word left in your lexicon.

All the while your eyes are locked with one another’s, mostly at his insistence. When he said that he wanted to see you fall apart he meant it; a firm hand against the side of your face keeps you from turning away while tutting words part your lids whenever they flutter shut for longer than a few seconds.

“You’re doing so well, mi amor, so good,” he tells you. His words are slightly slurred and you know he’s just as drunk on you as you are on him. The thought leaves your walls clenching and he hisses at the added tightness. His pace quickens as he drops his head down into the space between your shoulder and your neck. Kisses, nips, and sucks carve a path upwards until the warmth of his breath is ghosting over your ear. “Touch yourself for me.”

It’s an order that you’re all too happy to follow.

Your fingers quickly move down to work against your sloppy sex and you can only hope that the whole ‘no cumming until I say so’ thing is no longer in effect because if not you are in so much trouble. With everything going on you’re only gonna be able to last about a literal minute and that’s being hella generous and rounding way up, honestly. Javier knows this, knows you and your body damn near better than you do some days. He sees it in the way your eyes glint with desperation, can feel it in the way your whole body tenses just so, can hear it in the pant of breaths that come quicker, shallow. Part of you worries that he’ll drag things out just to punish you further—or worse yet, leave you wound up and wanting—but a bigger part of you knows he’s not that cruel. Javier always makes sure to give you what you need and right now you need to cum, badly, and so does he if the fevered look in his eyes is anything to go by.

“Yes, babe, yes. Just like that, fuck me back—Joder! Tan buena…” His muttered praises become more and more scattered as his hips begin to meet yours faster and faster until— ((fuck! so good))

“Do it for me, mi amor. Cum.”

Your body doesn’t hesitate to follow the simple command, and the orgasm that rocks your frame is almost blinding in its intensity. A wordless cry rips itself from your throat as bliss—white-hot and all-consuming—skitters across your every nerve setting them alight. All the while you hold on to the man that still hovers above you as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this plane, and for all you know he is. After all, you’re pretty sure that one cannot experience something so world-shattering as this and not ascend to some higher form of consciousness, if only for a moment.

For his part, Javier shudders and bucks his way through his own release just as you’re coming to the end of yours. Your nails follow the length of his spine as you watch him fall apart—eyes pinched shut, chest heaving, lips parted under hard pants—he rarely looks more beautiful than when he’s cumming and the sight is one that you’re positive you’ll never get tired of seeing.

Kisses are traded between shaky breaths as you both work your way through the last of the aftershocks. They’re sweet, lingering things that are seemingly at odds with everything that preceded them—only not really as he’s always like this once your games have come to their end. All loved up, he likes to keep you close so that he can dote on you as much as you’ll allow him to. Feeling safe, warm, and sated, gentle strokes of his hands against your cooling flesh and murmured declarations of love are the lullaby that sees you drifting off into slumber.

© thepuckishrogue/TheViperQueen, 2019-2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws))#here comes the fiiiiic~ lol #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x gn!reader #javier escuella x gender neutral reader #javier escuella x you #javier escuella x y/n

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 3 months

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hi hello my anglest angel!!! now that i have uh caught a breath from the knight!sugu fic (i went insane btw) i am here to talk about the songs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY'RE SO GOOD!!!!!! i know you said that you have Thoughts about them and now i am beggggging to hear more about those!!! please please please more knight!sugu n brat!reader crumbs i loved them so much

THE SECOND GOODBYE MY DANISH SWEETHEART STARTED PLAYING IT JUST CONJURED UP THE PRETTIEST CASTLE AND I WAS ALREADY IN THE STORY I LOVED IT SO MUCH

there’s nobody better than you // it took me a while till i knew // but you knew from the start it was us, didn't you? // it just took me a while till i knew

sad face emoji sugu the all-knowing-one sighhhhh oh i adore him so much ari i nEED TO HUG HIM

I LOVE RISES THE MOON AAAAAAAA I LOVE IT SO SO SO MUCH i think it fits the reader so fucking well. it's such a good pick for them. the little lamb the little fox. sigh they're very dear to me already.

btw i just realized that i asked moss a while ago for their knight!sugu songs and "tongues and teeth" was one of the songs!!!!!! idk if u happened to see that but if not then this is a very cute little coincidence it's the knight hivemind!!!!

i’ve grown a mouth so sharp and cruel // it’s all that i can give to you, my dear // and when you come in quick to steal a kiss // my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH THIS FITS THEM SO WELL WHAT

no but overall all of these songs were perfect for them i listened to the playlist multiple times and then i listened to classical music lmao don't ask it fit surprisingly well OKAY BUT NOW DON'T HOLD BACK ON ME!!!!! (THREAT!!!! VERY SERIOUS THREAT!!!) I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING YOU'RE HIDING IN YOUR BRAIN ABOUT THEM LAY IT ALL ON ME SWEETHEART I'M GIDDY I'M EXCITED I'M READY!!! LOVE YOU ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS<33333

- @softgirlgonehaywire

MICKEY I’M HERE I’M HERE I’M FINALLY HERE 😭😭😭 pls ignore the fact that i’m many months late ok my brain refuses to cooperate with me sometimes but i’ve been soso excited to answer this properly!!!! this got . Extremely long. like. actually. i got VERY carried away . i’m sorry i genuinely can’t stfu when it comes to them <///3

anyway !!!!! knight!sugu & bratty royal!reader our beloveds :333

first off!!!! i’m sooo glad to hear you enjoyed the songs 🥺🥺🥺 and that you got knight!sugu/royalty!reader vibes from them too!!!!! i’m just gonna get right into it bc we have . a Lot to discuss 😭😭 i really didn’t hold back in the slightest AND ON THAT NOTE pls just know that there’s literally zero pressure to reply to this at all, esp since it’s so late!!! i’m so happy just knowing you think of these silly little guys 🥺 i love you soooo much my sweetest little kitty cat mwah MWAHH <333

goodbye, my danish sweetheart

MY FAVORITE MITSKI SONG EVER EVER EVERRR and honestly i think it fits the fic more than any other song on this list . like. just the vibes + instrumentals alone are sooo perfect for a royalty au…. it sounds nostalgic and bittersweet and very tender . and the LYRICS 😵‍💫😵‍💫ohhhh my fucking god mickey . i’m gonna need to go through them one by one but they just … make me think of royalty!reader so much . how they just want to be accepted. the feelings of inferiority …. the belief that nobody can love them as they are . :(((

there's nobody better than you // it took me a while 'til i knew // but you knew from the start it was us, didn't you? // it just took me a while 'til i knew now i lay as i study a blank wall // would you spare me your voice if i call? // ’cause you waited and watered my heart 'til it grew // you can see how it’s blossomed for you

THIS IS SOOOO READER @ SUGU. he’s the one who keeps pushing and fighting for a connection between them and reader keeps resisting until they just . can’t. and they really do think there’s nobody better than their knight !! nobody stronger or kinder. they love him sm :(((( every time they call for him he’s there. and he waters their tiny little heart until it’s not afraid to flourish anymore…..

there’s some kind of burning inside me // it’s kept me from falling apart // and i’m sure that you've seen what it's done to my heart // but it's kept me from falling apart

AND THEN THIS . oughhh . :(((( this is both royalty!reader AND knight!sugu…… they both keep their true self at arm’s lenght to protect themselves. and they both cling to something rotten to keep themselves intact. in reader’s case they cling to the idea of themself as a spoiled, bratty, scummy royal — cling to the anger and bitterness they feel . and suguru clings to knighthood. it burns him but it makes him feel alive. it’ll turn him to ashes but he doesn’t mind. etectc.

strawberry blonde

aaaand then another mitski banger :33 i picked this one mostly based on vibes !!! the instrumental just sounds like it could fit into this au … the more peaceful scenes between the two . but the lyrics are also just brimming with devotion and adoration..

i love everybody because i love you // when you stood up, walked away barefoot // and the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape // i looked over it and i ached i love it when you call my name // can you hear the bumblebees swarm? // watching your arm // i love it when you look my way

IT’S PERFECT BECAUSE . i think the lyrics work both ways !!! i can see both sets of lyrics being from reader’s pov; loving suguru makes it easier for them to love the world . they want him to call them by name. but it also works well from sugu’s pov…. he aches for them and yearns to follow them . he loves it when they call his name, too. they’re both yearners…. what can i say…..

rises the moon

ANOTHER VIBE-BASED SONGGG i also love this one mickey … it’s so beautiful and soothing :((( i imagine it playing during the scene where suguru shares a bit of his past with reader . sitting by the windowsill in their room as the moon glows….. and then he carries them to bed and tucks them in :) i can picture him humming them to sleep with this song.

oh-oh, close your weary eyes // i promise you that soon the autumn comes // to darken fading summer skies you’ll be visited by sleep // i promise you that soon the autumn comes // to steal away each dream you keep breathe, breathe, breathe

and the lyrics are just ???? soooo incredibly soothing. i think knight!sugu brings a lot of peace into reader’s life . they feel very safe with him. and the mentions of dreams and seasons feel fitting, since those are motifs in the fic :3

honestly !! i associate a lot of my character/reader pairings with seasons …. especially this one though. i’m also always thinking about your little knight and prince and how he’s the summer to their spring :3 in my case i think suguru is probably reader’s autumn!! a bridge that softens the gap between summer and winter…. he gives them stability and comfort. and they give him both summer and winter. he meets them right in the middle <33

tongues & teeth

HEAVY BREATHING …… this one is a Must for any knight character or pairing . any character who views themself as a monster . I DID SEE THIS ON MOSS’S PLAYLIST TOO AND THEY’RE SO BIGBRAINED FOR THAT !!!!! it’s just… oughh. i think i mostly associate this one with suguru’s rampage after reader gets kidnapped but the lyrics are more readercoded !!!!

i’ve grown a mouth so sharp and cruel // it’s all that i can give to you, my dear // and when you come in quick to steal a kiss // my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear oh, i will ruin you // it’s a habit, i can't help it // i know that you mean so well // but i am not a vessel for your good intent i will only break your pretty things // i will only wring you dry of everything // but if you're fine with that // if you're fine with that…

IT’S ABOUT . the violence . and tenderness. a person who thinks they’ll bring this brighter, kinder, more ”pure” person nothing but pain . reader assumes they’re too much for anyone to handle so they keep everyone at arm’s lenght . i think they view the people they admire as paintings. and they’re convinced they’ll smudge the canvas if they get too close . but deep down they want to be accepted, claws and all :(((

and suguru does!!! they both accept each other as they are . a fox and a wolf. suguru will let reader bite and hiss and claw at him as much as they need. he won’t love them any less . and reader sees suguru covered in blood, manic and frenzied, and still only thinks about how beautiful he is . how nice their name sounds when it’s falling from his lips . they don’t love each other despite their flaws or because of their flaws . they just like each other. scratch marks and all . i’m normal abt them btw

the garden

THIS ONE 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 MICKEYYYY HOLD MY HAND. this one is almost TOO perfect . i love the crane wives and so many of their songs would fit super well into this fic …. but this one is just . insane . the album cover even has a little fox 🥺 BUT AAA JUST . the instrumental and the LYRICS … i’m gonna need to really pick them apart because they’re so unbelievably perfect for royalty!reader i’m going to. scream.

the crows in the garden are laughing at my expense // drowning out all the lies that i might have told instead

OK SOOO . crows . are a bit of a motif in the fic. crows remind me a lot of suguru maybe that’s why. then there’s also the garden, which is mentioned a lot in the fic too!! all the flower imagery…

but . here’s the thing. royalty!reader is a Liar. they lie. they wear a mask. they’re not honest with their own self and not with anyone else either. and they assume everyone is looking down on them. i can picture them looking out into the garden, seeing those free crows, and imagining their cawing as mocking laughter . it drowns out the sound of their own lies . (crumbles to the floor)

my stone // my shield, my steady hand // hold your light // to the darkness in my head

AND THIS ONE . THIS ONEEEE

mickey ….. grabs your shoulders. i know you’ll see the vision. this is royalty!reader @ knight!sugu and it makes me . Ache . very deeply. he’s their stone. their shield, their steady hand. he holds a light to the darkness in their head!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oughhhh they make me insane 😔😔😔 i think reader holds a light to suguru’s darkness too though . it’s more subtle with him but i wrote the fic with the idea that reader saves knight!suguru from his destined doom. he grows to care more for them than knighthood, which saves him from his fate, which is. breaking under the pressure of knighthood. you Get me. you must choose love Every Time.

put your ear to my heart or set your teeth against my throat // give me something pretty to wear beneath my blood-stained clothes

this one is just . really fitting right??? i guess this one is more knight!sugu coded though . i can imagine him returning to the castle after a bloody duel and getting patched up by a worried little reader :((( they give him a clean blouse . maybe bite his throat a little . who knows .

…. i think they also really love the sound of his heartbeat. it helps them sleep :3

get on your knees and // dig up the garden // won’t you throw down that spade and // dig up the garden, darling? // get your hands dirty and // rip up the garden // won’t you cut down that apple tree for me?

and finally This …….. i think the garden is like. a Metaphor . you know how it is . something something reader is a flower growing under the soil…. suguru has to dig their heart up…. etcetc. but i also love the devotion of it all . the loyal knight gets on his knees and digs and digs at his lord’s request. he’s eternally devoted to their joy.

my love is sick

dies . explodes .

mickey this song …. this goddamn song….. oughhh i love madds buckley sm :((((( she’s so good!!! i adore this song and i think it fits very well for both of them but especially royalty!reader…. it goes back to the whole thing where . they think they’re unloveable. their love is ”sick.” but they still crave tenderness and companionship……

my love is sick // it’s messy and wrong // but i pray for a bit of contagion // hands without fingers // like spoons at the source // coat evenly // oh, won’t you touch me? you’re an infection // i am keeping // no matter the sepsis // you are staying my love is sick // it’s taken me whole // i’m simply a host to a haunting // ghosts without corpses // still linger in flesh // holding on to a love they keep wanting

THESE LYRICS ARE JUST . soooo good. so good. the idea that they view their love as messy and wrong but still want him to touch them . they view him as an infection because intimacy scares them so much but they still don’t want him gone.

and then the final line ….. ”holding on to a love they keep wanting”…….. yeahhh . suguru and reader are both afraid to bare their hearts to one another but they keep holding onto that love anyway.

anything, anything, anything

aaaand then finally!!! another madds buckley song :33 this one is ADORABLE and it’s just . dripping with devotion and adoration !!!! i guess i see it almost as a post-fic song ??? like. after the final scene. the culmination of their relationship. it encompasses their love for each other really really well and the lyrics are just so sweet 🥺🥺

honey, i hate wine // but i’d gladly down a bottle of your name // just to get another taste of you // a single drop not on my tongue would be a waste and i hate mornings // but i like waking next to you // you always wake up before i do // so i can sleep in your embrace and i hate time // the minutes shared will never last enough // no amount of time will ever be too much // and parting leaves a bitter taste

THESE LYRICS ….. soooo royalty!reader. they’re a little sap but they don’t want to admit it!!!! i think their love comes down to making Exceptions. like. suguru is their exception. they hate wine but they’d drink some if he brewed it for them. they hate mornings but wake up early just to get a glimpse of his sleeping face . they hate time, but cherish the clock-ticks they spend with him. they’re a little softie and i love them :(((((

we burn like gentle firewood // we yearn like vines and leaves // and we settle in the comfort of // the bones that rest beneath // and i’d stop staying home and wasting time // to keep your soul with mine

THIS IS BOTH OF THEMMMM. they burn and yearn and settle in the comfort between each other…… they’d stop staying home and stop wasting time to keep each other close .

i’d do anything, anything, anything // anything, anything, anything…

this is really like . the Core of the fic i think. especially on knight!suguru’s side . he’d do anything. there’s something very gentle and tender about this repetition and it makes me wanna cry. sniffle . i adore them mickey :((((( he’d do anything for themmmmm

BUTTTT OKAY . songs aside…… the reason it took me so long to answer this (faulty brain aside) is that i really wanted to include some siken poems for you too :’3 since his poetry inspired me sooo much when i was writing the fic!!! and so many of them are knight!sugu +/ royalty!reader coded….

i’m just gonna go through the ones that remind me of them the most !!!! :33

the way the light reflects

title of the fic was snatched right from this so ofc i had to include it 🫡🫡

the paint doesn’t move the way the light reflects, so what’s there to be faithful to? i am faithful to you, darling. i say it to the paint.

i think this. encompasses the fic. i really do. the paint and the light. the Faith. what’s there to be faithful to? well, the knight by your side has something to say. if reader is faithful to the paint then he is faithful to Them. he’s made out of it. and all reader wants is for someone to have faith in them. they’re the paint, and suguru’s the light.

i paint in his face and i paint it out again. there is a question i am afraid to ask: to supply the world with what?

and this … royalty!reader is really . confused i think. to supply the world with what? what’s their purpose? what good can someone do when they’re stuck in a castle? they don’t know, so they keep painting. and maybe that’s enough.

…. i can’t remember if i mentioned this to you before but. i imagine that reader paints suguru a Lot once the events of the fic are over. as in…… eventually a corner of their room is dedicated to him and no one else . he’s very embarrassed about it. cutie <333

portrait of fryderyk in shifting light

THIS POEM . richard siken when i fucking catch you. it’s one of my absolute favorites of his and it…. really really REALLY helped me write some scenes 😭 especially the one where reader is painting. the writing is just so beautiful and flows so well. and it fits the themes of the fic perfectly !!

i sussed the gesso into foam and white roses, stalling. i troubled the shadows and silvered his edges. what can you know about a person? they shift in the light.

silvered his edges …. something something royalty!reader @ knight!sugu . BUT MORE THAN ANYTHING …. what can you know about a person? they shift in the light. that’s another quote that really gets to the core of the fic i think….!!! both sugu and reader aren’t what they seem to be. they shift in the light!!!

i find the parts that overlap with mine and light them up in clayd and creams, yellow music singing pink, the flicker of his mouth a purple rust. his face congeals as he settles in. his hair is bronze in here, not gold: walnut, bark, and cinnamon, chipped brick tipped in ink.

OUGHHHHHH AGAIN I’M JUST . so . enamored with the way he writes 💔💔💔 the colours…. the paint……. this is what goes through reader’s head when they’re painting suguru

difficult, to be confronted with the fact of yourself. opaque in the sense of finally solid, in the sense of see me, not through me.

SEE ME NOT THROUGH ME 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 yeah. reader wants to be Seen but not Discovered. suguru does both. he sees them and sees through them and stays anyway. it’s difficult to accept yourself but he does it for them. he sees the wolf and the lamb and the little fox beneath !!!! and reader sees him for the kind wolf that he is :333

litany in which certain things are crossed out

h … heavy breathing …. another of my favorite siken poems . this one was my absolute fav for a while….. it’s a really long one and there are just . soo many lines that reminds me of them!!! :((((

of course, she wakes the dragon. love always wakes the dragon and suddenly flames everywhere. i can already tell you think i’m the dragon, that would be so like me, but i’m not. i’m not the dragon. i’m not the princess either. (…) okay, so i’m the dragon. big deal. you still get to be the hero. you get magic gloves! a fish that talks! you get eyes like flashlights! what more do you want?

THE DRAGON/PRINCESS IMAGERYYYY. LOVE ALWAYS WAKES THE DRAGON !!!!!!! reader views themselves as The Dragon while suguru views them as The Princess . he’s The Hero obviously. i think reader is bitter towards suguru at the beginning for a Lot of reasons but one of them is jealousy. knights are domesticated creatures so they aren’t exactly Free but . they have more freedom than a chained royal . they get to run around in the forest and by the sea and they get to see the world :((( what more could he want?

you said i could have anything i wanted, but i just couldn’t say it out loud.

throws up blood . yeah . the knight offers his lord anything they wish for but they can’t say what they truly wish for . they can’t push the words out of their mouth .

forget the dragon, leave the gun on the table, this has nothing to do with happiness.

EXPLODES !!!!!!!! one of my favorite siken lines Ever. idk it’s just the vibes . i know you’ll understand mickey!!!!!!!! forget the dragon, this has nothing to do with happiness……

i want more applesauce. i want more seats reserved for heroes. dear forgiveness, i saved a plate for you. quit milling around the yard and come inside.

🥺🥺🥺 this line is so…. pretty. and hopeful. it makes me think more of knight!sugu than reader because i think he’s done many things he can’t forgive himself for . but the forgiveness he yearns for is just within reach . all he needs is a push. and i think reader more than anyone wants the better things in life — for themselves and for their knight.

suguru is passive in his suffering, but reader is willing to reach for what they want. and i think that inspires him. quit milling around the yard and come inside!!!!!! stupid silly knight >:((

unfinished duet

this is knight!suguru’s anthem . boy oh boy do i have thoughts about this ……

he wants to be tender and merciful. that sounds overly valorous. sounds like penance. and his hands? his hands keep turning into birds and flying away from him. him being you.

heavy breathing …. he wants to be tender and merciful. sounds like penance. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i have …. soooo many thoughts about knight!suguru but the center of his character really is Guilt. shame. he wants to repent for things he can’t remember doing. knights are meant to be ashamed . it’s the catholic in them i think

then there’s the bird line ….. as much as he pushes and pushes for that connection, he’s just as scared as reader is when it comes to intimacy!! his hands turn into birds and fly away from them . he’s afraid of crossing a line or boundary. i tried to show it in the fic but like …. he’s very particular about certain things . he’s willing to bend certain rules (esp later when his devotion starts sticking more to his lord than his knighthood) but he’s Very firm about other things . like not calling them by name at first . it’s a little… too much for him. knights really have to tiptoe that line.

…. there’s this one arthurian work that i love. that you’ve definitely heard about bc it’s so popular + they made a movie out of it and i don’t think it was a good adaptation but it was soooooo so good as a movie . gawain and the green knight….. I DON’T WANNA RAMBLE TOO MUCH BUT UM. i love the arthuriana :333 and i’m mentioning this story because gawain is tested on his value as a knight right. there’s a whole thing about how he kisses a man’s wife because it’d be impolite to deny the lady’s wishes (rejecting her would go against his honour as a knight), but he can’t sleep with her because that would go against … his honour as a knight. it’s a whole. purity thing. you need to be chivalrous but also chaste. so knight!sugu acts all charming and flirty but when reader wants him to cross the line between them he’s like 😳 yeah. he’s . a silly little guy .

what did you really want? someone to pass this with me. you wanted more.

cries . throws up . this is both knight!sugu and royalty!reader actually …. they limit themselves because they don’t think they capable of / allowed to have the thing they really want :(((( just having somebody by their side is enough for now….

was there no one else? his hands keep turning into birds, and his hands keep flying away from him. eventually the birds must land.

…. yeahhhh . 😔😔 yeah . sorry this poem is wrecking me a little . eventually the birds must land!!!! knight!suguru can resist and royalty!reader can resist in kind but one day that distance Will be breached. they’re doomed to fall (positive).

snow and dirty rain

and finally …. this beast . it’s the final poem of siken’s crush collection and it goes…. insanely hard. soooo many lines here remind me of them mickey :((((( it’s sickening actually . just a little push more and then you’re free 🫂🫂🫂 here is a drink for u to sip while reading i made it just for you ☕️

we can do anything. it’s not because our hearts are large, they’re not, it’s what we struggle with.

OUGHHH . yeah . knight!sugu and royalty!reader both have pretty small hearts but they’re kinda…. overfilled . i think . they both struggle with kindness despite wanting to Do Good .

my dragonfly, my black-eyed fire, the knives in the kitchen are singing for blood, but we are the crossroads, my little outlaw, and this is the map of my heart, the landscape after cruelty which is, of course, a garden, which is a tenderness, which is a room, a lover saying hold me tight, it’s getting cold.

….. i just realized every single one of these quotes is gonna wreck me entirely . I’M JUST???? THIS IS THEM?!????? IT WAS MADE FOR THEM?????? MY DRAGONFLY MY BLACK-EYED FIRE. MY LITTLE OUTLAW. the landscape after cruelty which is OF COURSE a garden which is OF COURSE a tenderness which is OF COURSE a room of sleeping lovers. tenderness is a garden . etcetc.

we have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero’s shoulders and a gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

just kill me actually . i wrote some of these lines here wayyyy back when you first sent this ask so being forced to read them again is . hurting me mickey 😭😭😭 FOR THE RECORD. this one is extremely knight!reader/prince!toru coded. the gentleness that comes not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it… yeahhh. you get me.

you said tell me about your books, your visions made of flesh and light and i said this is the moon. this is the sun. let me name the stars for you.

🥺🥺🥺 reader asks about his life and visions and dreams . and suguru tells them about the moon and the sun and the constellations ….. ”let me name the stars for you.” <- SUCH a sugu thing to say. i can’t stand him . he’s so devoted it hurts when i think about him

we were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so i said what do you want, sweetheart? and you said kiss me.

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😵‍💫😭😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 KISS ME . this is literally the final scene between them . under the stars. suguru asks what they want and all they want is a kiss. THE SWEETHEART …… lowkey his favorite petname. i’m partial to it. they go through all the suffering and growing together and finally arrive at the gold room. where they get what they want. and all they want is each other . (sound of muffled sobbing)

we are all just trying to be holy. my applejack, my silent night, just mash your lips against me. we are all going forward. none of us are going back.

and finally …… this 💔💔💔 it’s just . perfect. it’s so hopeful and it makes me so emotional. just mash your lips against me; none of us are going back. even though they were both born for doom there’s a bright future ahead of them :’3

OKAY I’M DONE . FINALLY . if you read all this then just know i’m smothering you in kisses…. i’m doing that regardless though . i love you!!!! thank you for loving them with me!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 i hope this was a fun read despite the wait </3

#i love you i love you i love youuuu #me and knight!sugu and royalty!reader are kissing you so sweetly <3333 #mr siken rlly said let me ruin ari’s life specifically #i can’t stand him (Lie)#i hope you have such a wonderful comforting and relaxing day today mickey <3333 #pls drink lots of water !!!!! don’t overheat!!!!!!!#mwah mwah mwah #ask tag ✩#mickey !! ✩

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