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#also I nearly said babies so that too lol
saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours
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synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too
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word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)
contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3
notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am
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satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.
how? you, of course.
“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.
“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.
“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”
suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.
“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.
“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”
“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.
and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.
“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”
“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.
but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.
satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.
“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.
suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”
“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”
“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”
“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”
“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”
“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.
“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”
“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”
“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.
it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.
you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.
“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”
“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”
“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”
“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”
you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.
“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.
you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.
“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”
“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”
“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”
“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”
“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”
“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.
it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.
“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”
“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”
satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.
your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.
satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.
“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”
“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”
“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.
if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.
right now, that’s satoru.
“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”
“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.
“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.
your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.
“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”
he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.
“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.
and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.
by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.
“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.
it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?
“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.
“yeah? heavier than suguru?”
“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.
“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”
“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”
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idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally
NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that
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thebearer · 3 months
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love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three
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prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.
or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)
contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+
“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 
Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 
“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 
Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 
“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 
“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 
You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 
“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 
You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 
“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 
You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 
Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 
“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 
“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 
“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 
MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 
Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 
Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 
You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 
Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 
The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 
“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 
You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 
Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 
Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 
“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 
Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 
You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 
“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 
You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 
Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 
You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 
“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 
“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 
Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 
“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 
“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 
Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 
“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 
“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 
“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 
“-No, no, I swear-” 
“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 
Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 
“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 
“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.
 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 
“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 
“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 
“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 
“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 
“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 
“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 
“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 
Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 
“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 
“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 
Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 
“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 
“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 
“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 
“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 
You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 
“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.
“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 
“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 
“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 
“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 
“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 
“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 
Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 
“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 
“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 
“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 
You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 
Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.
“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 
Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 
“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 
Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 
Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 
You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 
Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 
Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 
“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 
“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 
“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 
“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 
“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 
The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 
Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 
Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 
“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 
“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 
You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 
“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 
You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 
Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 
“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 
You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 
Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 
His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 
Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 
“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 
Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 
“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 
Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 
Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 
Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 
Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 
“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”
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artdcnaldson · 4 months
Note
smutty patrick +art +reader request!!!! ->
smut where both patrick &y/n r dominant and are constantly competing against eachother with who makes art cum faster/moan louder LOL☺️☺️☺️ patrick is like a rougher dom and reader is softer and she keeps praising art while patrick IS SUCH A MEANIEEEEE but he also loves art too obv(and reader). UGH i love them
HEHEHEHE <3
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Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: SMUT!! Threesome ft. Dom!Patrick, Soft!Dom Reader, Sub!Art, handjob, blowjob, ruined orgasm
A/N: god tier request, truly. something possessed me when I wrote this
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Art Donaldson had never looked prettier than he did in that moment. The thin sheen of sweat that made his skin glisten, the pretty flush that burned pink down to his chest.
His back was pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around him soothingly. It was the perfect angle to watch all the ways Patrick was torturing your sweet boy.
His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath— each exhale shuddery and rough. You pet his hair, brushing soft curls out of his eyes.
“How are you, baby?” You asked softly, teasingly. “Is Patrick being too mean?”
He shook his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as Patrick’s hand moved faster and faster. A strangled moan slipped past his lips, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick brought him closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m just doing what he asked,” Patrick said with a grin. The sounds of his hand was slick as it moved up and down on the blond’s cock.. “He wanted me to touch him, and I’m touching him.”
You pressed a soothing kiss to his jaw and grinned down at Patrick. The brunet was a co-conspirator in the agonizing, delicious torture you put Art’s poor body through. You were just nicer about it.
“Close,” Art whimpered, his lips spit slick and bitten pink. “I— fuck— I’m close”
Patrick smirked like the cat who got the cream, but you just ran a soothing hand over the plane of his chest, teasing his nipples, making him whine pitifully.
“Yeah, baby? You’re close, huh?” Your teeth tugged slightly at his earlobe and he moaned, loud and pretty. “Be polite and ask Patrick if you can cum.”
Patrick’s hand didn’t let up— slick and relentless. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Art nearly sobbed.
“Please—“ was all Art could manage.
“Please, what, Donaldson? You’re a big boy, you know how to ask the right way.”
He groaned, shifting so he could squirm away from Patrick’s relentless touch. It was futile, though. Art was strong, but with your legs pinning his thighs and Patrick’s hand slung across the blond’s torso, all he could do was take it.
“Lemme cum— please let me cum,” he was practically begging, eyes shining with crocodile tears. It was so fucking cute. You wished your camera was nearby so you could’ve snapped a picture of how desperate he’d gotten.
Patrick met your gaze and smiled, like he’d just gotten the best fucking idea in the world. “Okay, baby,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. “You can cum.”
You could feel Art’s heart hammering against your palm, the surprise evident in his eyes.
“Hurry before Pat changes his mind, yeah?” You cooed in his ear. He nodded, face scrunched slightly as Patrick brought him closer and closer to finishing.
And god, Art could get loud. He had his tells here, just like in tennis. As soon as he went silent, you knew he was right on the precipice, ready to tumble over.
The second Art’s orgasm hit, Patrick moved his hand off of him completely. It was different than it usually was— Art was always messy. He’d shoot ropes of thick cum up to his chest, or his face if he was particularly backed up.
But then, he just whimpered pathetically as cum oozed out of his tip, leaving a puddle at the base of his cock. And— holy fuck— he stayed hard.
Art practically sobbed, his head lolling back against your shoulder. Tears of frustration welled in his pretty blue eyes. “What the fuck, Patrick?” He groaned pathetically.
“What the fuck did you do?” You asked with wide eyes.
Patrick sat back and shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I saw someone do it in a porn. He got to cum, he just didn’t get the good part.”
“Switch spots,” you said quickly. Patrick let you settle between Art’s thighs, eye level with his aching cock. It was red at the tip, aching for a real release.
When you wrapped a hand around him, he whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to escape the stimulation.
“You good, baby?” You asked, pressing your lips to his thigh.
Before Art could respond, Patrick sighed. “Stop babying him— he’s fine.”
You met Art’s gaze, and he gave a tiny nod. His chest was heaving as he drew breath after shaky breath.
The mess of cum surrounding his base made each slick pass of your hand sound pornographic. Almost as debauched as the whimpers and moans that were escaping Art’s lips.
“Mmm… fuck, fuck— ah!” Like a goddamn pornstar.
“Shhh… let me clean up the mess Patrick made, yeah?”
You pressed a soft kiss to his tip, and his thighs twitched with the need to buck into the warmth of your lips. Your mouth trailed down, peppering the hard length of him with wet, slow kisses. You could taste his release, salty on your tongue.
“Jesus, baby— please—“ Art, desperate and wanting, was your favorite thing in the world. Besides maybe Patrick, desperate and wanting in a completely opposite way.
“Quit whining, Art, or she’s gonna stop.” Patrick murmured in the blond’s ear. You could already see a collection of red spots on Art’s throat that would turn into bruises.
You definitely weren’t going to stop. You loved every single depraved noise you could wring out of him. You took mercy on him, easing his sensitive cock into the wet warmth of your mouth.
You’re too soft on him. He likes when you make him work for it. You could hear Patrick’s complaints already.
It didn’t matter. You liked taking care of your boy.
He pulsed against your tongue as you took him deeper, his thighs tensing where your hands rested against him. He bucked slightly, brushing the back of your throat. When you gagged around him, he made the same whimpery noise that he made on the tennis courts.
“Tell her thank you,” Patrick said in Art’s ear.
You moaned softly around Art’s length as you felt Patrick’s fingers grip onto your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, faster and faster.
“Art, I’ll make her stop. Say thank you.” Patrick’s voice was firm, no trace of any sympathy. The same way he’d bark corrections that Art needed to make when they practiced together.
“Thank you,“ Art gasped out, like it took all the effort in the world. Patrick used his free hand to rake his nails over Art’s abs, and the blond cried out and bucked into your throat. “Fuck—“
You knew he was close to finishing— still so pent up from the orgasm that Patrick had ruined for him. So sensitive that it wouldn’t take much more effort to have him spilling onto your tongue.
You pulled off slowly, jerking him off with slow, firm strokes. “You wanna cum, baby?” You asked, lips just brushing the sensitive head of his cock.
“Yes! God, need t’ cum so bad,” he cried, desperate and aching for release.
“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ greedy, Art,” Patrick goaded. The hand that was in your hair had moved to your cheek, where he stroked along your skin sweetly. “You think you deserve it?”
“Yes, you asshole,” Art groaned. Patrick laughed, a smile spreading across his lips. You raised a brow, looking at the brunet expectantly for permission. He nodded and you smiled.
“Go on, baby, I’ve got you,” you said, hand moving faster. “I won’t be mean, I’ll let you get what you need.”
He cried out as he finished, painting your tongue with thick spurts of cum. You worked him through it, taking every drop he could offer you, until the feeling of your touch became too much.
“Don’t swallow, c’mere,” Patrick said. You joined him at the top of the bed, kissing him deeply, passing Art’s cum between your mouths with slow laves of your tongues against each other.
Art whined, reaching for your faces, wanting you to include him. Patrick leaned down, kissing him deeply, so he could taste the efforts of both of your attentions. You leaned in, tongue brushing Patrick’s, and Art’s, and you felt warmth flutter in your chest.
“You’re too nice to him,” Patrick said after he pulled away. “I would’ve made him beg for it.”
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thank you for readinggggg <3 this was so fun to write 😁🩵
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ellecdc · 1 month
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Would you be willing write a Remus fic about that super blue moon that is supposed to be happening?? like maybe it’s so so bad for him and he takes it all out on reader and she’s really sensitive and you can go from there lol
that’d be great love but it’s okay if not, thanks!! <3
thanks for the request! decided to make this with our Black!sister reader since we've been having fun with her <3
Remus Lupin x Black!reader who he takes out his Super Blue Moon frustrations on [1.6k words]
CW: Remus was being mean/rude to reader but we don't really see the angst... just the consequences of the angst, hurt/comfort, big brother Sirius having absolutely NONE of the nonsense!
“Hey moons, have you seen my sister around lately?” Sirius asked nonchalantly as he entered their shared dorm room; noticing immediately the tension in Remus’ shoulders as he positioned his body away from the door. 
“How should I know?” Remus muttered darkly. “I’m not her keeper.”
And though Sirius had tried to be cool when he first realised his baby sister and best friend had less than platonic feelings for each other and vowed to stay out of their relationship, there were unfortunately some things that Sirius couldn’t let slide.
“Did she eat all of your chocolate?” He asked calmly, causing Remus to roll his shoulders in an attempt to pacify himself. 
“No?”
“M’kay.” Sirius agreed as he put his school books in his trunk. “Did she throw your books into the Black lake?” 
“Sirius.” Remus hissed warningly.
“Did she tell Snape to sneak out after curfew to the Whomping Willow one night so that he would come face to face with Moony, only for James to have to fight you off of him as Snape ran for his life? Oh, wait, that was me.”
“Fuck off, Sirius.”
“No thanks.” Sirius huffed as he closed his trunk with a thud. “Well, if she hasn’t done any of those things, why are you treating her like such an arse?” 
“I’m not treating her like anything, Pads. Stay out of it.” Remus nearly growled as he stood abruptly from his desk and moved towards his bed. 
“Shan’t.” Sirius refused, following his friend across the room. “You chose to date my sister, you have to deal with the consequences.” 
“Great bloody choice I made.” Remus muttered petulantly, yelping when a book hit him in the head.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He hissed as he looked at Sirius who was staring him down defiantly. 
“If you know what’s good for you, Rem, you will never speak about my sister like that again, got it?” 
Remus seemed to relent as he laid back on his bed and pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to bring his boiling anger down to a simmer. 
“I’m the first to admit that Black’s are not often a good bunch, but if a Black could be perfect, she’s about as close as they would come. And I don’t like seeing her this terrified.”
Remus sat up at that, narrowing his eyes at his friend in confusion. “She’s not terrified of me.”
Sirius shrugged in disagreement. “She tenses every time you walk into the Great Hall and can’t seem to make eye contact with you, which usually only happens after a crucio or two from mummy dearest.”
Sirius watched the fight leave Remus almost immediately as he looked down at his lap in shame. “She’s…sensitive, Rem. We all are, we-” Sirius cut himself off as he stared unseeingly at the stone wall behind his mates head. “We can’t handle these kinds of moods as well as some other people can; tension and anger always led to pain and punishment growing up.”
“It’s not her, Pads.” Remus whispered. 
“I know it’s not. Somewhere deep down she might know that too but…”
“I know.” Remus offered, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “It’s this…this fucking moon, I- it’s driving me barmy.” 
“I understand that, but you can’t take it out on her; it’s not her fault.” Sirius offered gently before retreating from the dorm to allow his friend to digest what he said; he may not like the fact that his best friend and sister found their way to each other, but he also knew that both of you deserved to be happy. If he could help you both achieve that by being supportive, well, supportive he would be. 
。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+*゚
Remus felt shame course through his body as he walked through the library in search of you. 
Between his senses being heightened this close to the moon, the additional magic at play with the super blue moon, and the fact that he knew you were a creature of habit and had a table you often frequented, it didn’t take him long to find you. 
“Mind if I join you?” He asked quietly, feeling his heart crack painfully when you did, indeed, flinch at the sound of his voice and sat impossibly straighter in your chair.
“Okay.” You whispered in response, not looking away from your book as he moved to sit across the table from you, though he could tell you were no longer reading as your eyes remained glued to one spot. 
“I’m sorry that I’ve been such an arse, Dove.”
“It’s okay.” You said quickly, still not looking at him.
“No it’s not.” He argued softly.
He watched your jaw tighten as you repositioned yourself in your chair in obvious discomfort. 
“It’s this moon.” You explained breezily. 
“Which isn’t your fault, and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you- dove, can you look at me? Please?” 
He watched your throat constrict as you stole yourself and brought your eyes up to his. They were glossy, but not like you were about to cry - glossy like you were hiding, like you were occluding. 
He hated it; hated that you were hiding from him, hated that you felt like you had to hide from him, hated that he made you feel like you had to hide from him, hated that you even knew how to hide inside your own mind at all. 
“Dovey, look at me.” He repeated gently in hopes that you’d let the walls down, daring to reach a hand across the table in invitation. 
He watched as your eyes flit to his hand and back up again and he tried to keep his face neutral; no pressure or force as he let you decide if you were willing to trust him. 
You placed your hand in his, but kept your gaze pointed at your joined hands. 
“I know better than to let my moods affect you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He pressed sincerely.
You scoffed and moved your gaze to one of the rafters above you. “I’m not some delicate flower you need to tiptoe around, Remus; I can handle a bad mood.” You shot back defensively. 
“I know…” He whispered as he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.
He knew you weren’t a delicate flower; on the contrary, you were one of the strongest people he’d ever met. 
You gave the entire Hufflepuff house a run for their money on who was the most loyal wix in the castle. You always looked out for your brothers, constantly playing referee, devils advocate, and a surrogate parent for the two young Black boys. You grew up making sure Sirius never acted too outlandishly or brought too much trouble onto himself, making sure Regulus wasn’t completely beaten down into nothing and grew up to be a semi-decent boy, and taking the blame when you were unable to do either of those things. 
And to top it all off, you put up with him; a foul-mouthed, poor, Welsh, anger-issue riddled boy who didn’t deserve you. 
“Baby, look at me, please.” He begged, reaching forward with his other hand so he was holding your one in between both of his.
You turned your gaze to him and it seemed to be taking everything in your power to hold his gaze.
“I’m so sorry, my love.” He whispered, bringing your hand to his lips to press a kiss to your fingers.
Your eyes tracked the movement before flitting back up to his.
You offered him a curt nod and chewed on your bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” You whispered, eyes turning glossy for a whole new reason.
Remus made a pitiful sound from the back of his throat and stood to move to the chair beside you, never relinquishing his grasp on your hand. 
“You didn’t upset me, dove, I was just upset. And an arse; don’t forget the part about me being an arse.”
You offered him a wet chuckle at that as you sniffed, returning his hold of your hand and giving it a squeeze. 
“I hate not being able to…help, to take any of the burden off of you, to make it at all less painful for you.”
“You do, sweetheart, you do. By being here, and being with me, and being patient even when I’m an arse, okay?” He insisted, punctuating each reason he was grateful for you with a squeeze of your hand. “I don’t deserve it but I’m so lucky to have you.”
“You do deserve it.” You murmured, bringing your eyes back up to his.
And he couldn’t help himself, really; he had always been powerless against the pull you had on him and this time was no different as he closed the distance between the two of you to press a lingering kiss to your lips. 
“The point of all this,” Remus said as he broke away from you and bumped your nose with his, “is that you didn’t deserve to be treated the way that I treated you this week, and I won’t let it happen again, okay?”
You gave him a sad smile and gave his nose a bump in return.
“How mad was Sirius?”
“Fuming.” Remus admitted immediately.
“Did he throw a pillow at you?”
“A book.” He corrected solemnly, earning him an astonished look from you. 
“Oh…you crossed a line.”
Remus nodded abashedly. “Honestly? I think it might be harder to get him to forgive me than it was to get you to forgive me.”
Remus relished in the surprised laugh that bubbled out of you at that, and he vowed to never ever let another moon cause him to go this long without hearing it again.
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sungbeam · 6 months
Text
𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧
nonidol!choi san x gn!reader (no prns mentioned)
turns out your upstairs neighbor has a cat who adores climbing through your window — oh, and said neighbor is also fine as hell.
3.7k words, neighbors au (2 lovers), fluff, maybe like two swear words, drinking, lots of mentions of food
a/n: low-key just read this like ur watching the highlight reel of a romcom lol but @jaehunnyy for u 💖 i hope u like it :'))
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It all started about seven months ago when a gorgeous Thai cat waltzed into your apartment via the open window. It was a late July afternoon, stiflingly hot and sticky, meaning you had your window opened and the mobile fan set up to blow cool air into the apartment.
You were, for once, not at work. Because the art museum you worked at downtown was currently undergoing reconstruction, you were stuck in your apartment trying (failing) to sell prints off your low-traffic Etsy shop while also trying (failing) to make popsicles.
“Why is this so complicated?” You grumbled aloud as you sat on top of your kitchen counter with your knees pulled beneath your chin. You scrolled down the recipe again on your laptop screen, nose wrinkled at the amount of convoluted steps listed. “Too fancy,” you decided, slamming your laptop lid closed.
Immediately, you hissed, lifting the lid to make sure you hadn't cracked the screen from closing it too hard. Thankfully, there were no cracks visible and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You could not afford a broken—
“Holy shit!” You nearly fell off the back of the island counter at the sight of a light gray cat with black tipped ears, paws, and tail seated on the floor before you.
The cat meowed an innocent greeting.
You pressed your hand to your hammering heart and shifted to get a grip on your position atop the counter. “How—? Where…?” Your eyes drifted to the open window.
Oh. Well, that would explain it.
You glanced back at the cat, who peered up at you once more. “Meow.”
Carefully, you climbed down from the counter as to not scare the creature with any sudden movements. “Hey, baby. Where did you come from, hm?” You cooed, extending your hand out as an offer to be sniffed.
The cat unfurled its tail out from around its body and crept toward your hand. With an experimental sniff, you were deemed safe, and the cat rubbed the side of its face affectionately against the back of your knuckles.
Your chest nearly exploded from the cute interaction. You lowered yourself to your knees, gently taking a peek at the silver charm attached around the collar. There you found the engraving of a star in the metal circle.
“I'm guessing this has something to do with your name?” You hummed, reaching up to scratch the feline behind the ears and head. At least you had an inkling that this little one belonged to someone. You just didn't know how to find out who they were.
“I guess you can hang out with me,” you sighed and stood up with your hands on your hips. You didn't mind the company, after all, and maybe this could be a point of inspiration.
About three hours later, the summer sun still hung relatively high in the sky and you were trying to figure out what to feed the cat when there came a sudden knock at your front door. Really, the “sudden knock” was a series of rushed, panicked DUDUDUDU sounds. You nearly jumped out of your skin for the second time in one afternoon, and even the cat seemed to leap.
Well, the cat only looked mildly annoyed that her nap was interrupted, but she seemed content to give a languid stretch and join you in seeing who was so alarmed at your door.
When you peered out the peephole, your eyes shot open.
There was a pretty man at your door.
You glanced down at the cat who looked back up at you. You mouthed to her, pointing at the door, ‘Do you know this guy?’
As expected, she did not answer. Lovely.
You weren't exactly in appropriate garb to see people. You had thrown on something cool enough to not make you melt like one of the popsicles you weren't able to make earlier, and enough to cover any necessary areas. You were sure your hair looked about as luxurious as a barn, and there wasn't a lick of cosmetics on your face.
It was fine, you told yourself. You probably weren't even going to see this guy ever again.
You opened the door. “Hello? Can I help you?” You asked through the chain linking the door shut.
The man flashed you a flustered, dimpled smile at you. His dark hair was damp, like he just came out of a shower, and he had on a muscle tee that was definitely doing its job, and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hi! So sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you've seen a Thai cat wandering around here about yea high—?”
“Meow.” The cat at your feet shoved her way between the gap you made with the door and out into the hallway.
Your eyes widened another smidge, until the man outside released a gasp of relief and bent down to scoop the feline up into his arms. You unlatched your door and opened it fully now, the man holding the cat to his face as if he was communicating with her telepathically.
“That's the cat, I'm guessing?” You mused.
He tucked her back into his arm and his smile became sheepish. “Yes, I am so sorry about her. I came back home from work and she wasn't in the apartment, but thank you for dealing with her for however long she was here.”
You waved off his concern with your hand, sending him a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it, really. She's adorable. What's her name, by the way?”
“Oh, this is Byeol,” he cooed, lifting Byeol's paw up to wave at you.
Swoon. Your smile widened as you waved back at them both. “Well, it was nice to meet you, both Byeol and…?”
“San,” he answered. God, he was gorgeous. That smile… “And you are?”
“Yn.” You shook each other's hands in the dim hallway light.
“Nice to meet you, too, Yn.” He lit up, pointing up to the ceiling. “Hey, I'm pretty sure I'm your upstairs neighbor!”
You opened the door to your apartment wider so you could show him your open window. “Well, that would definitely explain how she got down onto my fire escape,” you chuckled.
He whistled lowly. “Man, cats are scary sometimes. I'll definitely try to keep an eye on whenever she's near my window now.” He ran the back of his knuckles down Byeol's spine. “I don't wanna take up any more of your time, but thanks again.”
“No worries! Have a nice night.”
“You too!”
San began walking back toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, and you were about to close the door when you thought you heard him chastising his cat in hushed tones. You laughed to yourself as you locked up your front door. You wouldn't mind if Byeol came traipsing down your fire escape again.
And she would. About three times a week when San had a later shift at the boxing gym he worked at (yes, a boxing gym… good lord). Byeol oftentimes expected you to have your window open, and if you didn't already have it open, she would sit out on the fire escape until you did.
Two months into the fire escape escapades, you gave up and left the window open just enough for her to squeeze through while you returned to work.
San would always come down to your apartment to retrieve her, and at some point, decided to swing by your apartment on his way up instead just to make sure she wasn't already here.
By month four when the days were shorter and the nights dragged longer and colder, you couldn't exactly keep the window open, lest you wanted to freeze your ass off in the safety of your apartment. Byeol would hop down the fire escape in the evenings when you were back so you could let her in, only for her owner to come barreling down the stairs, dimpled cheeks flushed and exasperated.
“I swear she likes you more than me,” he guffawed from where he stood out in the hallway as he always did. He shook his head as he watched the Thai feline waltz around his legs once, then circle back into your apartment. He arched a brow at her. “Look at her strutting. She knows exactly what she's doing.”
You swore there was a dash of red gracing his cheekbones now.
You bit your lip through a smile. “Well, you're welcome to come in. I was just about to eat dinner and I don't really think I can finish this roast chicken alone.”
“Ah, I don't really wanna impose,” he drawled, scratching the back of his neck and peering at you from beneath those lengthy lashes of his. He knew what he was doing—he had to know what he was doing. If Byeol could strut, then so could Choi San.
He promised to take you up on your offer as long as you let him run upstairs to grab a bottle of wine to contribute.
The last thing you expected to happen was to hear a knock on your window less than ten minutes later. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, folding over in laughter when you saw him waving to you on the other side with cold-bitten cheeks and a red-tipped nose. He clutched a bottle of red in one hand and gestured furiously to the window latch. “It's fucking freezing!”
“Okay, okay,” you grinned, walking over to let him inside. “Just so you know,” you said as Byeol welcomed her owner into your apartment, “usually it's just cats who come in this way.”
“Well, you might have to get used to a cat and a human coming in now,” he teased. San presented you the wine bottle with a flourish. “Milady, your beverage.”
“Why, thank you, good sir,” you jested and accepted the offering. “Make yourself at home!”
What you didn't expect was for such a statement to be taken so literally, and yet, you had no complaints.
Three months further along—making it seven in total since that first hot July day Byeol came in through the open window—you and San (and Byeol) were cooped up in your apartment as usual. It was a Friday night with dinner on the table, a TV show playing in the background, and a pair of wine glasses for the pair of you. Over the past few months, sharing a dinner together had become a weekly event wherein San would come in via window, and the two of you would have the evening together.
Sometimes it was just dinner, sometimes it was dinner and a movie, and sometimes it was even dinner, a movie, and drunk Pictionary. But every Friday night was yours and San's night.
Plus, he turned out to be a much better cook, so you definitely couldn't argue when he somehow wrestled his entire Le Creuset pot down the fire escape to feed you the most divine lobster mac 'n’ cheese you had ever tasted. (As if you'd ever had lobster mac 'n’ cheese before…)
“I feel like it would just be more convenient if I came up to your apartment instead,” you said with enthusiasm, your free arm flailing around as you melted dark chocolate on a double boiler upon the stove top. While San had the right side of the stove for his chicken and gnocchi soup, you had the left to prepare tonight's mousse for dessert. If San made dinner, you figured you could at least learn a thing or two about a dessert course.
He chuckled, “I mean, I'm not opposed if you ever get tired of hosting. I'm kind of a creature of habit though, which is why I don't mind coming down every week, but it's up to you, sweets.”
Oh, right. And the nickname. You couldn't even pinpoint when that started, but again, you weren't complaining.
“I don't mind hosting either,” you told him, “it's just that it's either you leave your super expensive cookware here or I go upstairs. I don't think Le Creuset has fire escape insurance.”
“You're not wrong about that.” You felt his hand gently brush against your waist as he slipped past you to get to the spice cabinet on your left. “Behind you,” he murmured by your ear before grabbing the jar of Himalayan salt (also his) and returning to his station behind his pot.
You couldn't deny the pitter-patter of your heart around him either. Things were coming to a point that you didn't know how to label. But perhaps that was the beauty of everything slipping into place. You carried on, “I think I've seen your apartment once, and that was when Byeol wouldn't stop meowing until I followed you guys.” You laughed to yourself at the memory. That had been an interesting night.
“If it's any consolation, your apartment has much more life in it than mine.”
“That's a lie,” you said pointedly. “Yours is just more meticulous.”
He snorted. “Meticulous. Might as well be as barren as a clinic.”
You passed him a glance. “I offered to paint your walls…”
San beamed back at you, dimples creating divots in the apples of his cheeks. “And I never said no! But—I do think that it should be something the both of us do together.”
Your brows creased as you took the chocolate off the stove to fold into the other mixture you'd set aside. “You wanna paint with me?”
“Yeah,” he said, almost bashfully. “I think it'd be a fun bonding and learning experience. And it would be cool to see you in your element, besides when you're drunk.”
The latter comment had you turning away to laugh. “Fair enough.”
When dinner was ready to be dined, and the mousse was freezing in the fridge, you and San sat at the kitchen island with your matching bowls of hot soup and glasses of lemon water for the night. Neither of you had remembered to buy wine for the week (surprisingly), but one week without alcohol wouldn't hurt.
The two of you clinked your glasses together, toasting to another week survived.
You took a sip, then spooned the soup into your mouth, wiggling around on your stool in a little happy dance as the flavors did their own dance on your tongue.
San smiled around his own bite. He swallowed, then said, “You know, I always know I did well when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“That cute little dance,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it tastes good, is what I'm saying, sweets.”
Your skin warmed, and you managed to convince yourself it was the soup or the heater or something and not the beautiful man beside you. “Then get used to the happy jig, because everything you cook tastes divine. You should be a chef, San.”
“I could've,” he shrugged, “but I kind of like this little life.” He gestured to you with his spoon, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don't you?”
For a moment, you let the smile slowly unfurl onto your lips. You lifted your own spoon in agreement. “You're right. It's a lovely, little life.”
Now that you were in agreement, you fell into a comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your dinner in one another's presence. Byeol was hunched over her own bowl of food just by the foot of your stool, against the adjacent side of the island. You'd gone out and bought her a pair of food and water bowls, as well as her preferred food. San had been touched by the gesture, and Byeol most definitely appreciated it.
San wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, by the way, next week.”
You hummed. “What about it?”
“Are you doing anything?”
You perked up, eyebrows lifting to your hairline. “Why do you ask?” It was usually unsaid by now that Friday nights were set aside for the two of you to share an evening, which was why you were confused by his question.
And then he explained, “It's Valentine's Day, so I just wanted to make sure I didn't interrupt or assume anything.” He'd said it so casually and easily that you nearly missed the slight nervousness in his voice, or the minor intonation of hope. “I mean,” he fumbled, “if you do have something planned, then it's no worries, really. There are plenty of other weeks—”
You shook your head, finishing off your water after having scraped your bowl clean. “I'm not doing anything,” you said. “Well, besides what we usually do.” You chuckled to yourself, “To be honest, Valentine's Day completely slipped my mind this year.”
And if you were truly being honest with yourself, every Friday felt like Valent—no. You shouldn't think like that. It would only make things worse about how you felt for him now. Plus, these past few months with San felt far too casual, too domestic, to be like Valentine's Day. Was Valentine's Day not for grand gestures and romance? This wasn't grand… though, you could probably argue about the romantic part…
“No, I feel the same way,” he nodded. “My friend Wooyoung just asked today if I was up to go to a single's party, which was why I suddenly remembered.”
Ah. “Oh, are you planning on going?” Wine sounded pretty good right about now.
He grimaced. “Probably not. I—I was kind of hoping you wanted to still do dinner next week—but, like, it doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. If that's what you're comfortable with.”
It doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. What if you wanted it to mean more than how it usually was? There was nothing inherently wrong with how it usually was, but you couldn't deny that a part of you yearned for more. That part of you imagined what it was like if San didn't have to come see you via fire escape, and he was always in the same space as you.
There was a pause as you wrestled with your own conscience about how or if you were going to admit it to him.
He pressed his lips together. “I've made you uncomfortable.”
“No, you haven't made me uncomfortable,” you assured him swiftly. “I just…” You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead then returning it to your lap. “Of course, I would love to have dinner with you next week, but I’d like it to mean something else—if you are comfortable with that.”
You watched as that beautiful smile you'd come to grow more fond of blossom onto his face. “I'd be more than comfortable with that—I’d be really happy with that, actually.”
“Good,” you said softly, unable to bite your own smile away. “Then dinner next week, it is.”
There was something fundamentally different about this next Friday night compared to the others. Specifically, the context by which you and San went into the Friday evening of Valentine's Day was completely different. The apartment was aglow with the same warmth as it usually boasted, but there was a bouquet of blood red roses in a glass vase on the kitchen counter beside a bottle of red wine.
San was at the stove, finishing off the last bit for dinner before it needed to simmer for a good thirty minutes. You were in the living room portion of your apartment, flipping through the vinyl records to play before you pulled one out and set it up. As you moved the needle onto the record, you placed the empty cover back into its slot and turned toward the kitchen.
You froze in your spot, skin warming at the sight of San leaning over the island counter with an adoring look in his eyes as he watched you. “What?” You laughed, subconsciously adjusting the sleeve of your blouse.
“Nothing,” he smiled. “You're just—you’re gorgeous.”
You were sure if your face didn't give it away, there must have at least been hearts floating around your head. “You cannot just say that,” you chided weakly as you walked over to where he was, your expression growing shy.
His smile widened and he rounded the counter to stand in front of you, your back pressed against the edge of the counter. “I can, too,” he teased. He stepped back once and held his arms out, fingers flicking toward him to beckon you forward. “C'mere. Can you dance?”
“Some.” Your eyebrows arched upward as you stepped forward and took his hands in yours. “Dancing and romancing, Choi San? What magic do you hope to enchant me with tonight?” You joked, moving your left hand to his shoulder.
“Perhaps magic that will leave your window open for me on nights other than Fridays,” he said sheepishly as the two of you began to sway to the music waltzing out from the record player. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your fire escape—”
You let out a laugh, ducking your head toward your chests. He did the same, an embarrassed grin coming onto his face as his nose nudged against yours.
“That was god awful,” he winced in apology.
“It was,” you agreed teasingly, “but I'll let it slide because you're cute.”
He shot you a bright smile. “Oh? So I'm cute? I guess that makes two of us.”
You weren't really sure at what point you realized you had fallen for this man. It was sometime between the Himalayan salt lectures and the dancing like an old married couple in your kitchen, maybe. You thought about the day he showed up at your door panicking about a missing cat, and to a future where you might have found yourself in his living room painting murals on his walls. Or perhaps… not his living room, but both of yours.
As you danced with your chests pressed together, hearts beating rapidly in sync, you gazed into those beautiful, dark brown irises of his and sank further and further into those feelings. They were gradually making themselves a home in your chest.
“What're you thinking about, sweets?” He murmured as you tucked your head against his shoulder and the arm he had around your waist rubbed the small of your back.
The smell of his cologne made you inhale deeply. You could get used to this—his smell, the feel of his body under your fingertips, his presence intertwined with yours taking up space in the best possible way. “I'm thinking that Byeol is a good matchmaker.”
His chuckle rumbled through him and softly into your ear. “You're definitely right about that.”
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a/n: pls remember to reblog and comment if u enjoyed!
atz m.list
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wileys-russo · 7 months
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Matildas content has me in a chokehold for my fav aussie girlies! Would you consider something with kyra x r where the girls notice how easily r stops kyra’s annoying little sister behavior (rip mother steffy) maybe something along the lines of r being sleepy and Kyra being loud, a little “baby, im tired” and kyra’s basically 🤐 and the girls are just like this is all we needed for her to not be a menace lol!
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around her little finger II k.cooney-cross x reader
"mate she's killing me, i really don't know how you put up with her." caitlin grumbled with a huff, shoving kyra away who tickled at the back of her neck with a grin, all of you exhausted after a long day of travel.
"patience and practice." you smiled bumping your shoulder into the older girls who sighed and grabbed her bag, heading into the hotel before kyra could catch her.
there wasn't a need though as of course kyra's attention was on her most favourite person to annoy, steph.
"kyra get off you rat!" steph laughed, shoving kyra away where she tried to clamber onto her back, smacking the younger girl in the back of the head as she reached for her bags.
"ow! babe did you see that? she abused me." your girlfriend turned to you with a pout. "baby you abuse her on a daily basis, you asked for it." you patted her cheek softly as steph laughed loudly in her face and slung an arm over you.
"and this is why you're my favourite child." steph sighed happily as you shot your girlfriend a grin over the older girls shoulder whose pout had shifted into a grumpy scowl as she grabbed her bags and yours.
"not fair! you've known each other longer." kyra grumbled moodily, steph having played alongside you since your very first pro season in the a-leagues, having taken you under her wing from day one. "i'm also significantly more tolerable than you ky." you teased as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and mocked you under her breath.
"thats the understatement of the century." steph agreed with a hum, yelping as kyra kicked at the back of her legs and sent her stumbling forward nearly taking you down with her. "kyra!" steph growled as your girlfriend beamed and sprinted into the hotel.
"you can do so much better than her, you know that right?" steph sighed taking your face in her hands as you rolled her eyes. "you love us together stephanie don't lie, you meddled about to get us with one another in the first place!" you wagged a finger as she grinned and let you go.
"i do, i really do. she might be a massive pain in the ass but you two are adorable together!" steph cooed and pinched your cheek as the two of you stepped inside the lobby.
"yeah and you've got her on a leash! whipped." you turned around at the new voice as your face lit up. "lani!" you launched at the taller girl, wrapping yourself around her in a hug as the defender squeezed you tightly.
"no longer wanting to punch me now are we baby t?" the blonde teased as she dropped you back to your feet and you pushed her shoulder with a scoff. "one; i hate that nickname. two; it was a dirty tackle and you deserved a yellow!" you warned as the older girl simply grinned and pulled you into her side, the two of you catching up as you wandered toward check in.
"also you might hate it but you're branded with that nickname for life now." alanna warned patting your head as you pushed her away, the nickname in general being a shortened version of 'baby tillie' which you'd earned the day you rocked up for your first senior camp at only fifteen with boots one size too big and your training bib on backwards.
you made your way around saying your hello's, your girlfriend waiting patiently by check in with your bags at her feet already having said her greetings.
"so you finally did it then?" steph looked up and her face broke out into a grin at the sight of hayley, embracing the shorter girl in a very tight hug. "did what?" steph frowned a little as hayley nodded over her shoulder toward kyra who was watching you with a lovesick pining stare.
"oh yes! finally manipulated them both into admitting their feelings for one another." steph smiled victoriously, you and kyra only having been officially together for a few months now after clearly crushing mutually for years.
"i give it a couple more weeks till she gets sick of that." hayley grinned, nodding to kyra who had grown bored of waiting for you, now wrapped around caitlin trying to pull her into a headlock.
"oh that isn't a problem with them. in fact, its a solution! just you wait."
~
sure enough, the others didn't need to wait long to see just what steph meant.
with word of you and kyra spreading rapidly around the team it wasn't long until the teasing started which you just brushed off with a roll of your eyes and a smile.
kyra however took the opposite approach, bragging on and on about how much you were whipped for her and how you were the biggest 'simp' she'd ever met, a charming recount which really no one but kyra actually believed.
after a grueling morning of fitness testing in the hot abu dhabi sun and everyone was cooling down in the ice baths prepared by the coaching staff, protein shakes in hand as time was spent catching up.
"on your left darlin." you looked up with a grin as ellie jumped in beside you, inhaling with a slight hiss at the change in temperature and clenching her top in her teeth, slowly sinking down into the freezing water.
"well well well if isn't little miss le clean sheet!" you teased with a smirk, ellie shoving your head to the side as the media team started their rounds with the mini mic having already cautioned everyone about camp content being needed.
"who would play you in a movie about your life?" you oohed as it was your turn, ellie already answering as you paused to think about your own. "natalie portman?" you laughed, unable to really think of an answer.
"you wish!" ellie scoffed with a grin, a few of the other girls adding onto the teasing as you mocked them and pulled a face. "because you look so much like margot robbie!" you threw back at alanna whose face dropped as your girlfriend hopped into the ice bath with her.
"fuck off kyra!" the blonde groaned, shoving her away as kyra stuck her finger in her ear with a grin. "anyone else want to babysit?" alanna grumbled, huffing and smacking the midfielder who continued to poke and prod at her.
"ky!" your girlfriend paused to look over her shoulder toward you as you raised an eyebrow.
no further words needing to be said the brunette sank down a little deeper into the water, sipping on her shake and stopping pestering alanna who looked on in surprise as you returned to your conversation with ellie and claire.
hayley got to see everything first hand a little later in the day, everyone gathering together for a session in the gym now it was a little cooler and everyone had eaten lunch.
"kyra! you're fucking killing me here." caitlin groaned as the girl clung onto her leg like a child, refusing to let go so she could continue her workout. "kyra please go finish your own reps, burn off some energy or something." steph tried with a roll of her eyes as kyra ignored her and continue to cling on.
a few others tried but kyra just ignored them, caitlin trying desperately to shake her off and even threatening to drop a weight on her head had no effect on the midfielder.
"mini man help me out!" caitlin whined pointing to kyra as katrina held her hands up. "she doesn't listen to me!" the older woman laughed, knowing the younger girls willingness to annoy others much out drove her willingness to listen to them.
"ky, can you spot me please?" you appeared suddenly with a drink bottle in hand, kyra dropping from caitlins leg and immediately jumping up to her feet, following loyally after you like a puppy.
"well, would seem she does listen to someone." hayley scoffed, all of the girls bar steph's faces written with shock, watching as kyra raced off to fill your water up for you after loading up the bench press insisting you not touch a thing until she returned.
"see? told you ras, baby t's got her wrapped right round her little finger." steph smirked somewhat proudly, the girls all shaking their heads and returning to their own workouts, kyra hovering protectively above you watching like a hawk as you did your lifts.
~
if word spread quickly about you and kyra just simply finally being together, it spread even faster about just what an impact and a grip you seemed to have over the rambunctious midfielder and her pestering antics.
"no way! she's that much of a pain." mackenzie scoffed in disbelief at alanna's words about what happened in the gym yesterday and in the ice baths, caitlin adding in several experiences of her own from back in london.
like the time kyra was caught tying katie's shoes together and with one disappointed sigh from you she immediately untied them and raced to katie with an apology.
or the time she wouldn't stop spraying alessia with her water bottle for the entire training until suddenly you were thirsty and she was barreling over toward the taps to fill up about five of them which were ran right over to you.
or the time she stacked up a whole heap of the big black foam training blocks to prove to teyah she could in fact touch the roof.
but with one mention of her name and a raised eyebrow from you, the midfielder was clambering down and putting the blocks back, showering your face with apologetic kisses as you scolded her and warned she could have been seriously hurt had she fallen.
"you are lying! look at her she's a menace." mackenzie rolled her eyes pointing to where kyra was currently rolling around on the rec room floor wrestling with charli as teagan egged them on.
"what are we talking about then?" you hopped over the back of the couch they were sat on, wedging yourself between alanna and mackenzie. "comfortable?" the blonde raised an eyebrow as you tucked yourself into her side and stretched your legs out over mackenzies lap.
"very, thank you lanz." you grinned patting her knee as the older girl rolled her eyes affectionately but moved her arm to drape across you. "how you've got kyra wrapped round your little finger." caitlin chuckled in answer to your previous question.
"oh yeah, absolutely." you nodded with a serious expression as mackenzie scoffed. "there is no way, she's too much of a stubborn pest to listen to anyone." the goalkeeper shook her head as you shrugged, unbothered by the disbelief.
"game of uno?"
"ha! draw four, again." alanna smirked toward mackenzie who was fuming, yanking another four cards up and mumbling angrily under her breath.
"relax mac you're gonna burst a blood vessel in your forehead, at your age that could cause some serious winkle damage." you teased, both you and caitlin down to one card each as poor mackenzie now had at least twelve.
"unless you would like me to hang you upside down by your ankles again, shut it." the older girl warned seriously as you held hands up in defence. "that was so good i've gotta find the video of that again." alanna snickered as you pinched her leg with a glare.
"i didn't even deserve it considering i was framed and both of you knew and didn't say anything!" you huffed at the memory of the goalkeeper indeed hanging you upside down by your ankles when she thought you'd put honey in her gloves.
but really it was of course a much younger sam who didn't even come to your defence as you swore black and blue it wasn't you, mackenzie only letting you down when your face went bright red since the blood had rushed to your head.
"i said i was sorry and i threw sam in the ice bath, don't be a baby about it." mackenzie shrugged finally getting alanna back with a draw four of her own. "you never said sorry!" you argued with a scowl which quickly turned to a victorious smirk as you slapped down your final card with a whoop of success.
"three in a row, unbeatable." you grinned happily, all three girls around you moaning in annoyance and throwing their cards down. "i'm tapping out, leaving as a winner you know?" you flexed with a confident smile.
"goodnight!" you hurried to dart out of the way of alanna's hand which grabbed for your top as you wiggled your fingers at them over your shoulder.
your girlfriend in the meantime was on a winning streak of her own only it wasn't just her opponents whose nerves she was rapidly grating as she sat on a beanbag playing mario kart, yelling and jeering and poking at poor steph who was stuck in dead last.
"nah this is rigged! what have you done to it?" she shot the brunette beside her a fierce glare as kyra let out an over dramatic evil laugh causing a few heads to turn to her with scowls of annoyance at her volume in the shared space.
picking up on the rapidly frosty mood building in the room and not wanting your girlfriend to make too many enemies on her first night, as kyra crossed the finish line in first you decided to step in.
"ha! loser loser looser." kyra leapt up and chanted repeatedly at steph beside her who scowled and threw the remote onto the now vacant beanbag beside her as kyra continued with her obnoxious celebrations.
"anyone else game enough to face the champ?" the midfielder smiled smugly looking around the room but clearly missing the looks of disdain thrown back at her, even charli looking ready to call it a night.
"nobody? everyone too chicken?" kyra made a loud squawking noise and grinned. "just go to bed kyra! you are giving everyone a headache." caitlin groaned from the sofa as your girlfriend started to argue.
"ky." your hand grabbed softly at her bicep, cutting her off mid sentence as she looked to you with a raised eyebrow, the brunette now consumed entirely in giving you whatever you wanted.
"baby, i'm tired. lets head up?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, kyra nodding and immediately tossing the controller onto the beanbag without another word, grabbing your hand and following you right out of the room.
"see? around. her. little. finger!" caitlin smirked at the look of utter shock on mackenzie's face, most of the team looking on in surprise at yet again just how easily kyra would bend over backwards to meet your needs.
"ow! what the hell was that for?" steph huffed as hayley dropped down in the beanbag beside her and handed her one of the abandoned controllers.
"for not getting them together sooner!"
1K notes · View notes
ki-yomii · 8 months
Text
like i do | jjk
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➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.2k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues
➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘
➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
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Eavesdropping.
Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.
Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.
But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.
And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.
The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.
Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.
He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.
It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.
His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”
And Jungkook knows, okay.
He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.
If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.
For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.
However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.
Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.
Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.
And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.
All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.
What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby. 
It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.
The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.
When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.
Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.
You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.
Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?
Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?
Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.
The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.
So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.
Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.
That should be me.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He can’t lose you.
It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.
Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.
Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.
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Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.
He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.
It’s your first year anniversary.
He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.
You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.
Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.
He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.
“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”
“What’re you doing here?”
Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.
Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.
A lump grows in his throat.
“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.
Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.
The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style. 
“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”
“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”
It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.
Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.
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It’s been several days of radio silence.
No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.
If only you’d stayed.
Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.
He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.
The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.
“What are we even doing?” he asks.
Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.
There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.
It’s all my fault.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”
“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”
Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”
His intentions are pure, honest.
But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.
He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.
“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”
“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”
Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?” 
“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”
“Don’t even try to deny it.”
His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.
The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”
You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”
“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”
Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.
The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.
Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.
He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”
Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.
“Let go-”
“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”
Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”
In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.
A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.
Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”
The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.
You call to him softly.
He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”
“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”
Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.
A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.
Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.
“K-Kook!”
“Mm, that’s it.”
The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.
Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.
"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"
Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.
Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”
Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.
You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.
“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”
Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.
Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest. 
His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.
He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.
“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”
Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.
A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.
He groans.
“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”
Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.
Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir. 
“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.
He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.
When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.
“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”
Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.
He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”
Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.
“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”
You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.
Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.
“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”
“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.
Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.
You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.
“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”
God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.
“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”
A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.
“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.
Please.
He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss. 
You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”
“Tell me who you belong to.”
He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.
His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.
The answer will either make or break him.
Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.
“Tell me.”
“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”
Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.
Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.
Love you like you deserve to be.
Like only he knows how to.
The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”
Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.
Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.
“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”
The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”
2K notes · View notes
zepskies · 12 days
Text
Lesson Learned
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader
Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.
AN: Here we go! lol. This is the highly requested Part 2 to This One’s For You, over in the BMD-verse!
Word Count: 2.2K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, edging, teasing, fluff, and feels.
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
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You gasped, your nails raking through his hair. Your grip threatened to rip out a few strands as you panted into his neck.
“Ben, please…for God’s sake…”
“Please what?” he said. There was grit in his voice when he spoke into your ear, but he was all too controlled. Taunting.
Asshole.
He was relentless, dragging his fingers inside your quivering pussy, rubbing his thumb around your clit, but almost never where you wanted him. Your thighs were shaking on either side of his frame as he had you naked on your back, writhing in the middle of your shared bed. You’d sucked him off until his spine rattled and his eyes nearly crossed, swallowing up as much as you could of what he had to give.
Still, he wasn’t satisfied.
“I’m sorry!” you burst in frustration, but you also had to stifle your laughter. Your husband narrowed his eyes at you, spying the hint of your smile.
“How come I don’t fucking believe you?” said Ben. With his elbow digging into the bed beside your shoulder, his occupied fingers curled inside you, finally brushing against the sensitive ridge of your inner walls. It drew a faltering moan from your lips. 
“What exactly are you sorry for?” he demanded. He bowed his head and laid a biting kiss along your throat. “Use your fucking words.”
You exhaled roughly, gripping his hair tight again. Now that he couldn’t see your face, you could allow yourself to grin in amusement.
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Three Days Ago…
Ben was tired and more irritable than usual when he stepped into the Flatiron Building. The night before had been a battle of wills between him and his infant daughter, who’d been finnicky, having a hard time going back to sleep. He’d done his best to help her get back to sleep, since you had been dead to the world and unable to leave the bed (or so you’d seemed).
Now, he took the elevator up to the right floor and used his key to get into the office suite, where Butcher and the rest of your delinquent friends were already dicking around.
Some horrible French rap was playing on the Bluetooth speaker. Kimiko was flicking tiny pieces of paper across the dining table, into a “goal” made by Hughie’s hands. Frenchie wore a “Kiss the Cook” apron as he pulled a fresh batch of croissants out of the oven in the kitchenette, while M.M. swept the excess flour stains off the counter. 
Annie was trying to get Butcher to smoke his cigarette out on the balcony.
“Really, you had fucking cancer. You’d think you’d try a little harder to take care of yourself,” she said. Butcher gave her a wan smile, and blew a coil of smoke upward between them.
“Nice,” she said flatly.
But all that stopped when Ben strode into the room. They stared at him, each starting to smile, no matter how much some of them tried to hide it (like Kimiko, with a hand over her mouth).
“What the fuck’re you staring at?” Ben snapped. “We got a job, right?”
Butcher cleared his throat and recovered first. He dabbed his cigarette on an ashtray on the dining table and grabbed an iPad to give to the supe.
“Yeah, got us an escapee. Our little slumlord, Sapphire,” he said.
Ben frowned. Sapphire was the supe who nearly vaporized you a couple of years ago, after they broke up her drug ring. While he read the file documenting detailing her escape and what the CIA knew of her whereabouts so far, Hughie shared a look with Kimiko and Annie before he spoke.
“So, uh, how’s Lila doing?”
 Ben shot him a look through furrowed brows.
“Fine. She’s with her mother,” he replied. Hughie predictably asked about you, and again, Ben said you were fine at home with the baby.
“Lila’s almost a year old, right?” Hughie asked. “Aw man, that’s gotta be a fun age, right? I mean, fun, but challenging. All the crying, the diaper changing. Getting her to sleep through the night must be tough.”
Ben’s attention piqued at that, and not in a good way. His dark suspicion grew when his gaze flicked up to Hughie’s dumb fucking face, and then the rest of them, with their dumbass smiles. Biting her lip to stop herself from smiling, Annie pressed a button on her phone.
All of a sudden, Ben heard his own voice playing from the speaker.
“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?”
“Now ain’t that a lovely warble,” Butcher remarked. Ben shot him a warning glare, but the Brit raised his hands in amused surrender. He crossed his arms and continued to smoke as he watched the scene unfold.
Ben tossed the iPad onto the kitchen counter and strode over to Annie with menacing steps, intending to put an end to this bullshit. She grinned and tossed her phone over to Kimiko, and Ben glowered, changing directions.
“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”
Kimiko’s eyes widened at the angry supe heading toward her. She tossed the phone to Frenchie next. The phone bounced between his flour-stained hands as he yelped in surprise.
“Oh, shit,” he uttered, when Ben began stomping his way.
“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”
“A voice like warm butter,” Frenchie praised. He quickly tried to move from side to side to evade his attacker. “You should be proud, Monsiuer Grincheux! A man soothing his baby is a beautiful thing.”
“Shut your fucking cockhole,” Ben gritted out, but he still reached out when the phone sailed under his arm—only to land in M.M.’s hands. He froze with widened eyes, not wanting to be in the game. But it was too late, for him and Ben.
“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” his voice sang, more quietly, more tender, deep and baritone. “This one’s for you…”
A brief pause. And then—
“What the fuck’re you doing?”
M.M. managed to pause the video. A beat of utter silence, and then...
Everyone burst out into laughter. Hughie started it; he was damn near folded in half, leaning heavily on his girlfriend as he wiped a tear out of his eye. M.M. tossed the phone back to Frenchie, whose entire frame was shaking with restrained glee.
Ben’s jaw worked as he contemplated how exactly he was going to kill every one of these cocksucking morons.
And then you. Because how else had they gotten that video? You had to have sent it somehow before he got ahold of you last night.
“All right, enough!” he bellowed.
The entire room fell silent.
“First of all, erase that shit right now, or it’s coming out your ass,” he barked, pointing at Frenchie. The other man jolted and did as he was told.
“As for the rest of you, I better not hear another fucking word about this, or so help me Christ, I’m gonna do some barbecuing.” 
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About three days later, Sapphire had been caught and re-imprisoned, and Ben returned home. He found you in the living room. He was taciturn to your happy smile when you welcomed him with a hug around his waist, though your smile fell after he didn’t respond to your kiss.
He slowly lowered his gaze down to you, and you knew.
Biting your lip, you soothed a hand along his cheek. “So, how’d it go?”
“Fine,” he said, but little else.
In fact, Ben didn’t speak to you for most of the evening. You tried cooking him a good hot meal, but he barely said two words to you. The only thing he did, before he was even showered and changed, was venture into the nursery to lay a gentle hand on his daughter’s head as she slept, over her downy brown hair. He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead.
After that, he strode past you in the doorway and slammed the door shut in the bathroom.
Aw shit. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help chortling with laughter. You should’ve known he’d be a great big man child about this.
So you decided to call your mom and see if she could take Lila for the night.
You had some damage control to do.
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Now…
He'd brought you to the edge of your pleasure three times before he withdrew his mouth or his hand from your body, not letting you touch yourself, not letting you come—driving you to the point of frustrated tears.
You grabbed his head with both hands and guided him to look you in the eyes.
“Baby, please. Stop torturing me,” you pleaded. You used every tool in your arsenal to make him break, giving him soft, tearful eyes. You leaned up and pressed gentle kisses to his cheek, his chin, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips.
“I need you,” you whispered, drawing him into deeper, messier kisses. Part of him started to falter. He briefly closed his eyes and breathed into your kiss.
But then, he stubbornly broke from you with a frown.
“Nice try. You’re not getting off that easy,” he said. “Now say it. Why the fuck are you sorry?”
You huffed in aggravation, but you twined your arms around his neck and brushed slightly sweaty strands of his hair away from his forehead.
“I’m sorry for embarrassing you,” you said, even though your mouth began to curve upward. “It was a sweet thing you did, and I’m glad I captured it. But I am sorry that sharing that moment with our friends bothers you so much.”
“First of all, they’re your idiot friends,” he said. You wanted to interject on that one, but you knew he wasn’t in the mood, and you didn’t want to fight with him for real.
“Second of all,” he began…but he didn’t have any more words after that. They were caught between his irritation, and his unwillingness to even voice what it was he felt. Eventually, he found them.
“There’s some shit that needs to stay between us,” he said.  
You smiled, but you mercifully drew him down for another slow kiss.
“Okay, okay. I hear you. It’s not that big a deal though. You love your family, and look! Your macho-ness is still very much intact,” you said, gesturing at his very much hard cock pressing against your thigh. “Now are you gonna fuck me like a man, or do I need to find a vibrator that will?”
At that Ben looked down at you with a raise of his brows. His lips twitched, mostly at your audacity. Shaking his head, he slid a hand behind your neck and drew you in for a kiss, fueled by passion and frustration in equal measure.
You wrapped your thighs around his hips, urging him closer. His straining length pressed against your center, the wet tip slipping against your glistening folds. He groaned at the sensation.
“Please,” you repeated, licking into his mouth for a sensuous kiss.
The once-iron grip on his restraint finally broke. Ben slid a hand between you to hold himself to your entrance. With one smooth thrust, his cock buried deep inside you. Your moan of relief echoed his own. If nothing else good came out of this situation, you two hadn’t had the time or the energy to go at it like this in a long time.
He grabbed your thigh and angled you higher, so he could sink in at an even better angle as he began to rut into you.
With all of his earlier edging and teasing, you were already so close. Your inner walls fluttered around him, welcoming him home and gripping him tight. All it took was a few well-placed swipes of his thumb over your clit to have you tumbling over the edge—a delicious cresting of pleasure that made you arch off the bed, biting your nails into his shoulders, a cry caught in your throat.
Ben fucked you through your release, all while chasing his own. His grip on your hip tightened as his thrusts grew ragged, his own breathing shallow and rough, until his balls tightened and his body locked up on him. He spent himself inside you, coating your inner walls until he had nothing left.
He just barely managed to keep himself from smothering you as his body relaxed. You still welcomed his weight on you, soothing your hands up and down his back while you both caught your breath. Your thighs slipped from his hips, your feet meeting bed and sliding out a little.
Ben brushed your sweaty hair away from your face. Looking down on you now, his face gentled from its hardened angles and furrowed brows. You smiled lazily.
“Still mad at me?” you teased.
Ben resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he let out a rough exhale through his nose.
“Something tells me you didn’t learn your lesson,” he said, somewhat incredulous, and yet, amused.
Your smile was undoubtedly cheeky, even as you leaned up to give him a sweeter kiss.
“Sure did, baby,” you said against his lips. And another kiss. “Lesson learned, I promise.”
He really did roll his eyes this time.
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AN: 😂 Ben just can't win, can he?
Translation: Monsiuer Grincheux - "Mr. Grumpy" in French
Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:
Coming up next, Ben has his Adventures in Babysitting moment in Green:
Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.
▶️ Keep Reading: Green
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mead-iocre · 2 months
Text
Marshmallow Keychains | Alexia Putellas x Reader
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synopsis: want that cute (overly expensive) jellycat? Lucky for you you've got a very generous girlfriend.
warnings: none . But it is my first time writing for Alexia so consider that your warning lol
wc: 1k words
“Oh my god–  baby look at this one!” You hold up a small pink bashful bunny, showing it to you the girl beside you. You and Alexia were in London as your footballer girlfriend has a few days off of training. 
“Si. That’s nice, mi amor” She said in the most monotonous tone ever, but you didn’t mind her less than enthusiastic response, you were far too enamoured with the soft stuffed bunny in your arms. 
You put the bunny down and move on to the next adorable thing that catches your eye. “And they’ve got marshmallow keychains! These are so cute!” You've been roaming the store for a few minutes now, caressing and cuddling all the soft stuffies, much to the entertainment of your girlfriend. However, these marshmallows are different. The two marshmallows, one white and one pink, were holding hands and smiling sweetly at you. “I need them, Ale” 
Alexia just stares, seemingly unmoved by the cuteness of the little marshmallows with little faces. She raises a perfect eyebrow at you, unconvinced. “Do you, amour?”
“Okay maybe I don’t need it– but I do want it…” You look down at the cute keychains in your hands. Turning the price tag around, you visibly wince. If you were to buy two, that would be nearly £50 British pounds for two small keychains. You move to put the marshmallows back on the shelf, hoping they’ll still be in stock when you can willingly afford to splurge on them, but your girlfriend grabs them from you. 
“I’ll buy it for you” Alexia says sweetly with a kiss on your cheek. The bright smile you gift her has Alexia feeling like she’s on top of the world. Over the years that you've been dating, you've gotten used to Alexia literally throwing her card at you whenever she could. She knows that you can afford to buy things on your own, you've got a job that you loved and it pays well, but gift-giving has always been her love language. She liked taking care of you and you gladly indulged her. While you did not care much for designer clothes and luxury bags, you loved the little things– like the silly little marshmallows keychain that Alexia currently has clutched in her hand. 
You look around the rest of the store where there are shelves and shelves of stuffed animals. Rows of Jellycats lined the shelves, each one seemingly more adorable than the last.You gasp suddenly, grabbing onto your girlfriend’s tan arm nearly startling her. “LOOK OVER THERE–“
Leaving her behind, you literally sprint over to the shelf not the other side of the shop and pick up the object that caught your eye “A sandcastle with a little face– oh muy amable” You coo at the yellow stuffed toy in your hand. You snuggle the sandcastle in your arms, rubbing your cheek against the soft material. 
“muy suave, amor” Alexia corrects gently once she has made her way over to you. Unable to resist how cute you look, she lays a sweet kiss on your cheek. You’ve been learning Spanish, attending language classes and regularly being flown out to Barcelona by your very generous girlfriend. She insists that regularly exposing you to the culture and the environment will allow you to pick up the language quicker. It’s also part of the Spaniard’s plan to get you to move in with her as soon as possible– but she would never admit that to you willingly. 
The shopkeeper restocking a shelf nearby noticed your excitement. "Ah, you’ve found our special edition," she said with a warm smile. "We only received a few of those. It’s part of a summer series they released.”
You gasp and turn to Alexia with that look on your face. The look that can get you whatever you want– one that your girlfriend was very familiar with. Before you can say anything, Alexia is already rolling her eyes and reaching into her back pocket for her wallet. 
Smiling the biggest smile in the world, you reach a hand towards her gold amex card that she dangles in the air before she pulls back just before you can grab it. You pout at her. 
“Do not pout, mi amour.” Tugging playfully on your ponytail, she lays a quick smooch on the side of your neck knowing exactly how ticklish you are. You try to swat her away, but not before she somehow manages to steal one more kiss from you. “I just wanted to be sure– that’s all you’re buying, si?” 
With that, you turn to the kind shopkeeper from earlier with the biggest smile on your face. “Do you have any more limited editions Jellycats? My girlfriend is feeling very generous today” 
You both leave the shop with one big bag filled with seven new jellycats to start your collection, but with barely a dent on Alexia’s card. On your crossbody bag dangles the marshmallows keychain, and another pair is nestled inside the shopping bag that your girlfriend insists on carrying for you. 
A week later Alexia walks into the locker room, her boots in one hand, and her training bag thrown over her shoulder. She walks to her locker, putting her bag down on the bench. The locker room is loud with chatter, the girls catching each other up on what they got up to during the break.
Mapi is walking over to her locker right beside Alexia when something new catches her eye “¿Qué es eso?”
Alexia stops what she was doing and looks to where her teammate is pointing. “…Jellycat.”
At first Alexia had protested, or at least she tried to. You loved the marshmallow jellycat keychain so much, and made sure to hang it on every bag that you wore out– even when you would borrow one of your girlfriend’s very expensive, fancy bags. You could be using one of Alexia’s Louis Vuitton bags and the marshmallow keychain would be hanging on the side.
Alexia, on the other hand, was less than enthusiastic to use her keychain. During checkout, she had thrown in a keychain for herself last minute, thinking she could get away with you just knowing she has one just like yours. However, you insisted that she had to use it. You explained that the marshmallows would be sad if they were left behind just collecting dust on her bedside table. In response, she rolled her eyes and grumbled something about you being “a pain in the ass”— at least according to the little bits of Spanish that you could understand. 
The following morning, your girlfriend left you in bed– you with your messy hair, flushed cheeks, swollen red lips, and her with her hair neatly in a ponytail, and her training gear on. You watched with a smile on your face as Alexia left the house with a very familiar keychain dangling against the side of her Barcelona training bag. 
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I love writing spoilt!reader. need me a rich athlete wife who can spoil me too
also im really loving these shorter blurbs because it allows me to just write whenever im inspired without worrying about a low word count.
the euros final is tonight, if you care lol. may the least shittiest team win x
-- kisses, butter.
655 notes · View notes
charlieleclerc16 · 4 months
Text
A game of UNO*
Summary: Charles and Y/N play a game of strip UNO. The rules are of course made up by Charles himself.
Pairing: bestfriend!Charles x reader
Word count: 4K
Warnings: No actual smut, as in P in V. Just a LOT of tension and ofc sexual topics such as stripping, making out, boners etc.
A/N:  I guess I am now writing for Charles too. This story is originally posted on my other blog, so if it's familiar.. That's why lol. Also, funfact, I actually played a game of UNO with myself to get these cards to be accurate haha
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Like they say; as we mature, the relationship matures with us. And so does the friendship between Y/N and Charles. The countless weekends going out to pubs are now spent mostly in the comfort of their own homes playing board games and watching movies. Of course, they liked to go out and drink, and God they still drink quite a lot. But they don’t care for loud music and sweaty people all around them.
Nearly every weekend, when there are no races, they come together and spend time like they always do. Downing a few bottles of white, munching on a delicious charcuterie platter, and just enjoying each other’s company. Today was like no other. Charles perched down in the corner of the comfy sofa and Y/N is getting the glasses ready for the delicious liquid.  
“Can we watch The Notebook tonight?” Y/N said as she walked into her living room with two wine glasses and the bottle of white she had been craving all day. Charles simply chuckles and gives her a judgemental look. “What?” She asks him.
“Haven’t we seen that movie like a billion times already?” He laughs. Secretly Charles is a sucker for a good romance movie and Y/N is all too familiar with his preferences. When they were both still in their teen years and just met in school, Y/N had never seen The Notebook before and Charles insisted she needed to see it.
“I mean yes, but you know I love this movie.” Y/N states, remote control in her hand to turn on the movie with a smirk on her face. She lets out a sneaky giggle, getting all comfy against his body stretched out on the sofa. Charles’ strong arm wraps around her body so naturally. His delicious scent immediately relaxing her. 
* * * Halfway through the movie, Charles gets bored. Each of them are two glasses of wine in and Charles is just ready for some action. He lifts his body off of the sofa making Y/N whine at the loss of contact. He makes his way to her board game stash. His feet drag across the floor and his hips sway from left to right, dancing his way to the cabinet. She laughs at him, the dork.
“What are you doing?” She questions, he is so cute dancing around your living room with his glass in his hand. 
“I am done watching that movie, again. I wanna play a game.” He says with a mischievous smirk across his face. The little twinkle in his eyes tells her he really is up to no good. He opens the top drawer of the board game cabinet and pushes around some of the stuff in there. 
“Ah! There it is.” Charles chuckles. He turns around holding the pack of UNO in his right hand. He brings it back over to the coffee table and opens up the little box as he sits down on the floor. 
“You don’t want to watch a movie we’ve seen a billion times yet you do want to play a game we have played a billion times?” She questions Charles, although she has a feeling that there’s a catch. The look on his face tells her he is not about to propose a simple game of UNO.
“See, you got that wrong baby.” The smirk on his face is only growing bigger and bigger. “There's a twist.” The scared look on Y/N’s face is priceless to Charles. She grabs the remote control to press pause, putting all her attention on the man in front of her.
“How about we add some spicy rules to the game?” The room falls silent aside from the heavy breathing escaping her lips. 
“What do you mean, Charles?” She whispers.
“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He says as he starts shuffling the cards. “Okay so, since it’s just the two of us, we shouldn’t’ make too many additions. How about every time you can match a numbered card or wild card with the most recently played card, the other person has to take off one clothing item.” His gaze never leaves her eyes. He starts dealing the cards as if he expects her to just go along with his plan. “Let’s also say for every +2 played, the other person also has to take off one item instead of drawing two cards.” And that’s how the rules are played out.
“I don’t know, Charles.” She says looking down at the cards as she picks them up in her hand one by one. Her first card is a yellow 1. She looks at the second card before she adds it to her hand, a red reverse card. The third card she picks up has her widening her eyes, a yellow +2. She picks up the rest of the cards and she joins Charles on the floor beside the coffee table. She has already decided to play along. 
“What if this ruins our friendship?” She asks.
“Then we’ll stop being friends.” Charles chuckles, lust covering his eyes.
“We can’t stop being friends just because of a game of UNO, dummy.” 
“What if afterwards, you don’t want to be friends because you want to be more than that.” The flirty smirk on his face is weakening her entire body. Fuck. She’s had the longest crush on the man in front of her. Her whole body is yearning to be close to him. Of course, she wants to be way more than that.
“This would have to be the most seductive game of UNO for that to happen.” She tries to shrug off the nerves in her body. Not really doing a great job at just that.
“Shut up and play your first card.”
Charles flips over the top card of the deck. A green 1 lying flat on the table. She takes a look at the cards in her hand. There’s no green so she decides on a yellow 1. She places down the card and a hissing sound coming from Charles’ lips pulls her attention to his eyes. The look on his face looks like pure mischief. His long fingers drag through his cards. He pinches one of them in between his thumb and pointer finger with a big smirk on his lips. God, he looks so kissable. 
She takes a big chug from her glass. Charles slams down his card, showing the yellow 1 matching your card perfectly. 
“I would’ve never guessed I’d be getting you out of your clothes so quickly.” His voice was low and husky. Her wine glass barely touches the table before she brings it back to her lips for another chug making Charles chuckle at her nerves. 
She thinks for a second before she hooks her fingers on the welt of her right sock. Her knees press into her chest and she takes both socks off, one by one. 
“Hold on, this isn’t fair. You’re wearing more clothes than I am.” Charles states as she see his brain calculating. They’re both wearing socks, jeans and a T-shirt. But Charles refers to what’s underneath that. Suddenly she feel thankful for deciding on wearing a bra today, because that’s not a given for every day.
“Well, I guess that’s just my advantage of being forced to strip for you.” She shrugs.
“I did not force you.” He pouts making her giggle. She looks at the table to check back in with the card that’s last been played before diving back into her cards. She can’t help but let the slightest smirk appear on her lips before she plays the yellow +2 in her hands. 
“Fuck.” Charles laughed. “Off with the socks we go.” He continues as he takes both of them off in a swift motion. He adds them to where her socks are piled up together. 
Charles looks in his cards. There is a red +2 in his hand which he could just play right now but he decides to keep that one in his hand for a little longer. Instead, he pulls out a yellow 5.
Y/N sighs, feeling relieved that she doesn’t have to get rid of any more clothes right now. The anxious yet thrilling feeling is riling her up. She have never felt any excitement like this before. Charles and Y/N have been friends since forever and she has had the biggest crush on him for nearly as long. Her eyes always lingered a bit too long when they went to swimming together and he was in just his swimming trunks. Or the goosebumps his touch left on her skin as his fingers danced along her arm as a small sign of affection. Friendly affection, but it still made her feel all sorts of ways.
Both of them play a couple of cards before Charles has a big smirk plastered across his face again. Uh oh. His fingers stride along his cards again before he picks one. He places a red 7 on top of your blue 7. 
“Wouldn’t it be fun if your seven was blue too?” He says as he scooches a bit closer, their legs now touching. 
“Stooop, you make me nervous.” She blushes.
“Don’t be. It’s just me.” Charles reassures her and wraps his empty hand around her ankle. His thumb moves in soft strokes up and down. She knows he tries to calm her down but every stroke of his thumb is sent straight to her clit. 
Y/N plays a red reverse card. Allowing her to play another card since it’s a two-player game of UNO. She’s all out of red so she draws a card, a red 4. She places it down and look back up to Charles who still has his hand on her ankle. 
“Isn’t that fortunate?” Charles teases. 
“Just from you saying that, I know there’s nothing fortunate about it for me.” She mumbles as she frightens the next card that he will put on the table. 
Charles has a twinkle in his eyes looking at the card in his hand. The red +2 is going to get rid of her first clothing item that’ll actually reveal some skin. Charles too had been pining over her for years. He started loving her in a bit more than just a friendly kind of way around the age of 16. Now 10 years later, nothing had changed. Both of them had been dating people, trying to distract themselves from the massive crushes on each other. But at the end of the day, they always came back to each other.
He finally places his card down, an excited look on his face. But she quickly takes her green +2 and smack it down on the table.
“Hah!” She yelps. “That makes two items for you to be gone!” 
“Nah-ah, baby. Haven’t you read the rules before?” He states. “We both have to get rid of one item.” Charles smirks. Mr know it all, why does he know all rules of UNO? Probably because they have played it so many times.
“+2 plus +2 equals drawing four cards. Simple.” She argues but Charles already pulled out the rules from the box. He reads out the bit about how when your opponent plays a +2 card, you have to draw two cards and afterwards may continue your turn. Y/N is kind of sad that Charles isn’t going to get rid of both his jeans AND t-shirt.
Charles takes hold of the hem of his shirt with both his arms crossed before he drags the fabric over his head. In the meantime, she stands up to unbutton her jeans. She gets distracted by the beautiful sight in front of her. His abs are gorgeously on display his toned skin is like a piece of art. Charles had always been hot. But the more he started driving, the more he started working out. And damn did it do wonders for his body. 
“What are you doing?” Charles asks as he throws his shirt on top of both of their socks. He softly chuckles at her eyes staring down at his torso. 
“Ehm, sorry. I was taking off my jeans.” She states, causing Charles to groan. He shakes his head in a disapproving way. “What?” She asks him.
“Should’ve just taken off your shirt like I did.” He mumbles before he picks up his cards from the table. His eyes go from the discard pile on the table to the cards in his hand. There are no more green cards in his hand so he draws a card. Luckily it’s a green one so he places it on the pile. 
“Hmpf, nah. I’ll keep my shirt on for a bit longer.” She mumbles softly. Being shirtless always makes her feel so exposed. Her insecurities would peak without a shirt so she’d rather keep it on for as long as possible. Charles notices how she tries to hide herself. His hand finds its place back on her ankle and slowly travels up to her calf, stroking up and down.
“You have no idea how god damn beautiful you are, do you?” He reassures and she tries to shrug it off.
Both of them have a few cards left in hand but none of them are useful. They draw a few cards, and some of them are played immediately. Y/N look at her cards and forges a plan. With a smirk on her face, she plays a wild card allowing her to change the active colour to blue. But she has instant regret when she sees a smirk on Charles’ face that’s even wider than her own. 
His fingers pick a card from his hand but before he places it down he tugs it back and picks up another one to play. A simple blue 9 lays down on the table. But the twinkle in his eyes never left.
She sighs and take a big sip of wine to empty her glass. She places her cards down on the table and gets up to grab the bottle of wine in the fridge.
“Cute undies.” Charles coos since her shirt doesn’t reach past her bum. 
She comes back with the cold bottle and fills up both of their glasses, emptying the second bottle of the evening. The glasses are a bit full but who cares? She places the bottle down on the coffee table and sits back in her spot.
The plan she made a few minutes ago still works, she plays a blue reverse card allowing her to take another turn since it’s just the two of them playing. Next, she plays a blue skip card to grant her another turn. And last up she plays a plain blue 6. During all three of these cards, the smirk on Charles’ face grew back more comprehensive and she just knows what is coming. 
The blue +2 that hits the table was expected, and is followed by a shout of UNO!
“Fuck.” She mumbles and takes a gulp from her glass. “Fine.” She continues before she grabs the hem of her shirt. She drags it out, trying to hold off for as long as possible. But the anticipation is turning Charles on even more. Of course, he has seen her in a bikini before, but this is different. This feels different.
Her shirt is added to the growing pile in front of the sofa. Charles notices how she feels a bit uncomfortable. Her eyes avoid his and she is unsure where to actually look. His hand reaches out for her and slides from her upper arm all the way down to her hand. He holds onto it for a little while, squeezing ever so softly.
“You really are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.” He reassures her by giving her the exact confidence boost she needed. 
After Y/N plays her second to last card, Charles is able to finish the game by playing his very last card. Leaving him in his jeans and boxers and her in just her bra and panties. 
“Let’s go for another round.” She states and already starts collecting all cards to shuffle them. Charles chuckles at her newly gained confidence. He is so ready to play a second round. 
She deals the cards, places the deck back on the table, and flip over the top card of the deck. A yellow 4 is laying on the table. 
“Since I won last round, you may start this one." 
She places down a green 4 on top of the yellow one on the table. A simple but steady start, she thinks. 
“Oh shit.” Charles says and places down the green 4 he already had in his hand, ready to play. “I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t have to…” He adds, suddenly getting nervous at the realization he is finally going to see her topless after years of wondering and imagining what she’d look like underneath.
“The game’s the game.” She states and lets her hand travel to her back to unclasp her bra. Charles gulped, feeling more nervous than he ever had before in his life. His heart was pounding as he looked into her eyes and saw the unmistakable desire there. He had no idea what she is thinking but he is fascinated by her daringness.
He watches as she pushes the straps of her bra off of her shoulders and drops the garment to the ground. She lets out a deep sigh of pleasure as her breasts become the focus of his attention, and the look in his eyes tells her he wants her just as much as she wants him.
She feels incredibly sexy and alluring. For a brief moment, their eyes meet. She feels a strange and wonderful stirring in her stomach. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. At that moment, she just knows that she is in trouble.
Without saying anything, she swiftly moves on with the game by placing down her green 8. Charles can’t seem to keep his eyes away from her for too long, giving her an enormous confidence boost. 
Both of them place down a few more cards before she places down her Wild Draw 4 card and change the colour to blue. Charles draws his four cards and takes a good look at his cards. He’s having a hard time focusing on the game with the gorgeous sight in front of him. 
He places down two cards in one go, a blue skip causing him to have a second turn, and a blue 5. 
She places down her blue 8 and shout UNO! Charles looks through his cards again to find any card that may cause her to not finish the game. A Wild Draw 4, a +2, anything at all. But all he has is a blue 2.
“Oh my god, Charles. What are the odds.” She chuckles. 
“What do you mean?” 
She places down a blue 2 on top of his. She’s been waiting for this moment ever since he took his shirt off. Her thoughts have been flooded with the idea of him naked in front of her. It’s all she’s been thinking about for the past years. 
“Fuck. You win the game and I have to take off my jeans?” He laughs. Without another word, he gets up, unbuttons his jeans and zips down his fly. His thumbs hook into the waistband of his jeans to pull them down painfully slow. A soft sign, nearly a moan is heard when his bulge is released from his tight pants. Ever since she had to get rid of her shirt Charles’ cock started hardening beneath him. 
She gasps at the view in front of her. She makes it her mission to get him out of his boxers as soon as possible. The lust in her eyes is inevitable, not knowing where to look. His eyes? His hands, where he is pushing down his jeans? Or his bulge, which is honestly where she just wants to keep looking at.
Tension is rising and she can’t wait for him to add the last bit of his clothes to the growing pile. His jeans finally drop to the floor and he lifts his right foot trying to step out. His ankle gets stuck and she reaches out instinctively to hold the jeans down, helping him get out. She allows him to step out before she adds the denim to the pile of clothes. 
Charles sits back down close to her. Both their legs touch again but now there is no fabric in between holding back the skin to skin contact. She looks down at where her legs touch and look back up to him.
“Hi.” He says with a soft smile across his lips. God those lips, they have never looked more kissable. Or is it just her mind playing games? Her thoughts are all over the place. All she wants is to just push him over, straddle him and kiss him. Everywhere. 
“Hey.” She chuckles before a nervous laugh is heard from Charles’ side. Her eyes drop down to his boxers. He chose to wear navy blue Calvin Klein’s this morning and she is so thankful for his choice. The dark fabric accentuates his skin perfectly. An outline visible around his growing member. 
“Eyes up here, baby.” He snorted as if he isn’t having the hardest time keeping his own eyes away from her tits. 
“Sorry.” She whispers before Charles holds out his hand for her to grab. His thumb dances on the back of your hand. Both of them are quiet for a little bit as they soak up each other. 
After what feels forever but actually are only 1,5 minutes, Y/N speaks up.
“Charles? What are we doing?” She questions him, still holding onto him as she looks their connected hands. 
“Hmm, I don’t know actually.” He replies. His free hand reaches with his forefinger for her chin and pushes her face up so she’d have to look in his eyes. “All I know is that I want you. So, fucking, bad.”
Her eyes light up. She can’t believe he really admitted what he just said and without a second thought she gives in to her desire of just a few minutes ago. 
Y/N lets go of Charles’ hand and pushes him onto the floor by his shoulders. Simultaneously she climbs on top of him, causing a muted “oh” to fall from his lips. He is surprised by her actions and honestly, so is she. His hands grab her by her hips as she sits down on his stomach, avoiding contact with his aching cock. 
Their lips finally connect. Ten long years are coming together in this sweet and lustful kiss. Charles’ right hand travels up and down her side as his left nestles into her hair. The two of them sink into the living room floor, both desperate for the connection they have been longing for. 
His opens his mouth and gently sucks Y/N’s lip between his. He lets go after a few seconds and licks softly over her bottom lip. Her heart races as her spine arches under his touch causing him to naturally pull her closer. She opens her mouth to allow her tongue to join his, going back and forth. 
She moans with pleasure and their tongues intertwine even more vigorously, entangling with one another in a desperate search for more pleasure. Each movement they make is somehow more tantalizing than the last. Their hands exploring each other's body with a deep hunger for more.
Y/N wishes this moment would last forever. She is scared of what might happens next, what if this is just a heat of the moment kind of kiss and they really can’t go back to being just friends. Or maybe that is exactly what Charles meant with his ‘Then we’ll just stop being friends’. 
Charles’ hand roams down her back. He moans a bit louder when he finally touches her bum. She feels a firm squeeze on her left cheek, ripping a moan from her throat. Y/N bucks her hips instinctively at the sweet tingles in her core.
Their lips part for a second and she presses her forehead against his. Both of them are a panting mess, feeling completely out of this world. With Charles’ hand still squeezing her bottom he speaks up.
“How about we take this to the bedroom, baby?” He whispers.
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haddonfieldwhore · 9 months
Text
offline - vince dunn
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streamer!vince dunn x reader
summary: everyone in vince’s chat thinks he’s in love with you, which makes hiding your relationship interesting
warnings: a few uses of y/n, i think that’s it. not too proud of this one
word count: 0.9k
“bluepanda2, thank you for the 5 gift subs,” you heard vince say into his microphone as you passed by his streaming room. he had been on for nearly 4 hours already, and while you were used to the long streams he did by now, nearly six months into your relationship, you did still get impatient waiting for his attention sometimes. you had been friends with vince for a few years, having met through a mutual friend and staying in touch via text, until one day he gained the courage to ask you out, and here you were now. knowing the stress that the public eye could put a lot of stress on a new relationship, you had both decided it would be best to keep your romance a secret, at least for the first little while. months had gone by and some people were suspicious, and some people just wanted it to happen from the few times you had appeared on or been mentioned in streams.
you didn’t always watch his streams, honestly not having the time to some days, and also feeling like you were spying on him sometimes when you did. but tonight you found yourself missing the man who was just up the stairs from you, and curled up on the couch in his living room with the stream pulled up on your phone.
“guys i’m gonna wrap things up soon. i have a friend coming over so i have to hop off early tonight,” he explained.
- is it y/n?
- i bet it’s y/n
- ^^ i wish they would stream together again
“maybe one day y/n will come over and come on the stream again. i’ll ask them.” vince smiled, reading the chat.
- he’s blushing!!!
- dunner is in love <3
- //youtube link - vince simping compilation//
- are you two dating yet?
- ^^ they’re just friends
- ^^ sure they are lol
"chat, i need you to stop linking clips about me crushing on y/n," he laughed, the crinkles by his eyes on full display, along with the dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. “we’re just friends.”
you smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his viewers, knowing how much they meant to him. hopefully one day soon you would be able to tell them the truth, but you both weren’t ready yet. vince wrapped up the stream, and you shut your phone off as you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.
“hey, you’re offline early today,” you smiled as he flopped onto the couch next to you. “how was the stream today?”
“it was good. did you watch any of it?” he asked.
“i just caught the last couple minutes,” you smiled mischievously. “you know, when everyone was saying how much you love me.”
“hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you close and kissing your lips softly. “they’re right.”
“do you think we should tell them soon?” you asked, and he shrugged.
“i want to,” he ran his hand over his face. “i just know how people can be. and once it’s out there we can’t take it back, you know?”
“yeah, i get it. for now i’m happy having you all to myself,” you smiled, pulling on his arm until he laid on top of you, his head resting on his chest. your fingers ran through his curls, the soft locks slightly matted down from wearing his headset for so long.
“did you miss me or something?” he teased, and you flicked his forehead with your finger.
“yes, actually,” you pouted, and he laughed as he crawled further on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as his body hovered above yours.
“baby if you want my attention, you just have to ask,” he said sweetly, kissing you again.
“another quote that would get added to the compilation video?” you teased.
“definitely,” he smiled, and it was you that kissed him this time, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down. his teeth played with your bottom lip as you felt more of his weight on top of you.
“are you tired, vin?” you asked, and he nodded, laying fully on top of you now and burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggled as he kissed your neck, his stubble tickling against your skin. “vince-“ you whined as he nipped at the skin softly, his hands on your waist, fingertips sliding just under the hem of your sweater. he only hummed in response as he left wet kisses up to your jaw. his lips finally traveled up to your again for one more kiss, before he sat up.
“i’m sorry i never pay enough attention to you,” he said, and you shook your head.
“it’s okay, i’m just being clingy,” you laughed. it honestly wasn’t an issue, there were just some nights you wanted to be close to him when you couldn’t. “maybe i could hang out with you on stream again soon, if the viewers are okay with it.”
“sure, you can tomorrow night if you want,” he said, and a devilish smile tugged at his lips.
“why are you making that face?” you asked nervously and he laughed.
“no reason,” he laughed, before pointing at your neck.
“but if you’re going to be on the stream, we’re gonna have to hide that hickey.”
prompt @novvasdreamscape
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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satcrvz · 3 months
Note
hai... twirls hair... can i get some kenma w an s/o who's the opposite of him pls and ty 🤲
UNTITLED (sorry)
pairing : kenma x reader!
synopsis : kenma w a reader opposite him :p
cw : nothing besides the fact i never proofread
this is a little short but it gave me something to do thank you :3 ALSO I HOPE THIS IS OKAY..
nearly cried bc i’ve lost my 2021 ability to do hc format
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kenma wasn’t huge on attention. he was much more fond of sitting in his own comfort. so when you slid into the empty classroom he’d been in, he was confused to say the least. during this hour you’d normally be found in your friend group.
"kenma!" you said as you made your way to sit on top of his desk. you swung your legs and admired his eyes and the way his hair slowly fades from one color to the other.
he looked up from his phone to look at you, "what are you doing here?" he asked.
"hey!" you exclaimed. "you could at least pretend to be excited to see me."
his eyes widened at your words, it didn’t come off bad, did it? "that’s not.. no.. i meant—" he stops trying to explain himself when he hears the little snickers coming from you.
"i’m just joking! i wanted to see you, it’s loud in the hall." you motion towards the door with your finger.
a grin makes its way across his face, "funny, you’re normally the one making all the noise."
"since when were you a comedian?" you roll your eyes at him. silence falls over the two of you and the audio of the hallway dies down.
you pause before asking him if he wants to ditch.
his eyebrows shot up in surprise, "i don’t know.. where would we even go?"
"c’mon, anywhere but here! baby please? just this once i swear!" you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. he sighs before grabbing his belongings and placing his phone in his pocket.
you both held hands on the way to the cafe that you decided on last minute. the walk there was peaceful with the two of you conversing and the soft blow of the wind.
"yn?" you glance up at him while chewing the donut that you’d just taken a bite out of. he reaches for your face and wipes a crumb off before saying, "thanks for bringing me here."
you ended up flashing him a smile. you were really glad he liked it. you had decided on the place because it was never too crowded.
"you’re welcome! i felt like we both needed a break." he nods at your words in agreement.
"also, did you know kuroo came to me yesterday whining that i took you away from him!"
"sounds like him." he laughs. "i’d rather be here with you than at school right now. let alone, practice."
"oooo don’t let him hear that babe."
his phone dings in his pocket and he reaches to grab it. "speak of the devil"
TO: KENMA
FROM: KUROO
dude where’s you go?
i feel like you’re shit talking me -_-
come here and help lev! yaku’s done with him lol
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noemilivv · 7 months
Note
hi, I hope you’re having a good day, I’d love to leave a request for Hazbin Hotel.
Could I request Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox and Lucifer (feel free not to do them all if they’re too many) and how they would react when their s/o finds them crying and comforts them and gives them a hug? I’d love some reverse comfort for them they’re my favs, also gn reader pls!
hello!! i’m having a good day, i hope you are as well!! this was a very interesting concept to think about, especially for alastor haha, it may be a bit out of character but i tried my best lol
Warnings: Potentially OOC Alastor, S1 Finale Spoilers, Swear Words, Mentions of Valentino, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Mentions of Injury (Scars, Bruises, Blood, Ect), Mentions of Depression, Mentions of Sex (No Smut)
Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox x Reader (Reverse Comfort)
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Alastor
Alastor wasn’t one to express much emotion - other than his signature smile, let alone cry, but you caught him - even if it was barely
He felt like he was on the edge of pure insanity and psychotic, and he, the almighty Radio Demon, would’ve never expected something so little to give him his final push
After the fight between Adam and Alastor, he had lost his cane, his cane gave him almost every ounce of power and control his soul had gained since entering Hell, and he was going insane without it
You watched Alastor silently drift away from the crowded hotel lobby after Lucifer made some petty comment about losing his staff.
Despite that small part of you trying to convince you against it, you followed him.
You trickled behind him slowly to his room, all the way on the other side of the hotel.
He left his door open a crack, and you opened it slightly and stood in the doorway, and there he was.
Alastor’s usually neat and tidy hotel room was now a disaster with blueprints on the floor, you took a glance at them, some looking relatively old and some looked quite fresh, they were sketches and plans for a new staff - although you knew Alastor no longer had the magic the make it.
You hid as he came into your view, he was pacing the room, a very strained smile present on his face as tears pricked in his eyes, as he ran his fingers through his hair, tossing around blueprints and plans and other papers that seemed to be plans for a new staff, searching for a solution to his despair.
Slowly, you approached Alastor, patting him on the back softly before retracting your hand, remembering he doesn’t like to be touched.
He shook his head and sighed, the same drained smile was still present on his face, he looked down at you, and you never noticed the bags under his eyes until now… I mean, you knew he wasn’t one to typically sleep, but he never had bags before…
“I’m sorry, my dear.” He said, fixing his posture, and straightening up his suit. “One might say I’m a bit distraught at the moment. What is it you need?”
“Well.. uh, Al, you looked a bit sad recently, especially after what Lucifer said about your cane, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You said, providing a bashful smile, at the fact that you’d be caught snooping.
“Ah, well, how awfully kind of you, my little doe. Just know, that I’m doing quite alright-” Before Alastor could finish his sentence you engulfed him in a hug, he paused for a moment, before slowly wrapping his arms around the small of your back.
His face was in the crook of your neck, as he sighed, you couldn’t see his face, but you could feel him give a soft smile onto your neck, not a grin, but a smile.
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Angel Dust
You knew Angel’s job at the studio was far from easy, and shifts could last several hours at a time, but now? You were starting to worry…
He hadn’t been home in nearly two days. And it was starting to freak you out.
You sat in Angel’s bed in the hotel, snuggled next to Fat Nuggets, he let out a small snort as you cradled him in your arms. “I miss him too, baby.” You muttered, kissing his forehead, tearing up at the thought of all possibilities of what could’ve happened to him.
“Papa will be back home soon.” You nearly whispered, your voice cracking softly, you just wanted to see your boyfriend. The movie that was on in the background began to fade away as you fell to sleep.
You woke up again at about 1am from a slam of the bathroom door that was connected to Angel’s room. You blinked your eyes a few times, groggily, not entirely aware of what was going on until you heard sobbing coming from the bathroom.
You rushed the warm, pink comforter off of you, leaving Fat Nuggets on the bed asleep, urgently swinging open the bathroom door, finding Angel wailing, clinging onto the sink, halfway on the floor.
His shirt was off, and a few bruises and scars were visible. He let go of the sink, and slid down the floor, cradling his body.
“Handsome, shit..” You murmured, kneeling down to his level, you put a comforting hand on his knee. “Baby, look at me.”
You requested softly, now using your hand to comb through Angel’s hair, when you didn’t get a response, you used your free hand to tilt his face up to you, and the sight broke you.
His eyes stared into yours, afraid and hurt, there was smeared eyeliner under his eyes that traveled a bit down his face, there was blood coming from his mouth.
You felt tears prick in your eyes, you hated seeing him like this, “My love, can I hold you?”
Angel nodded as his body fell into your arms, you rocked him slowly, shushing his sobs, turning them into a small sniffles.
You pulled away from him to look at him, you wiped the smudged makeup off his face with your thumb, and looked at him. “Wanna talk about it, Angie?”
“You already know the deal by now, it’s just Val..” He said, wiping his eyes, hiccuping before continuing, “I had a rough week, and I wasn’t off-script, and he just said to improv it, and I just fucked it up.. and he, well..” He gestured to the bruises and scars on his body, referencing what happened, giving a dry chuckle, you tensed above him.
“Baby.” You started, cupping his cheeks, pulling him to look at you, “I don’t know how yet, but I will fucking get you out of this, I don’t care who or what I have to go through, but I will fucking get you out of this. No one gets to hurt you and expect to get away with it.” You vowed, as your foreheads connected,
“Sugar, there’s no way out.” Angel murmured. “He’ll find me..” He said barely above a whisper, his voice cracking in fear, your heart ached for him.
“I’ll figure it out, handsome.” You said, pecking his forehead, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
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Lucifer
You’ve known since before you even started dating that Lucifer had depression, and you knew it hit hard, but you had never really been around to experience that before.
Whenever you could, you always tried to help him out with it, which was a bit hard since he had a tendency to brush it off a lot
It wasn’t until you came home to Luci having a depressive episode where you really got a grip on his depression
You came back to you and Lucifer’s shared home, you had just gotten out of work, and Lucifer was supposed to be at a meeting, key word, supposed to.
As you walked down the hall you heard sniffles coming from your shared bedroom.
You opened the door, it let out a small creak, and you noticed Lucifer curled up on the end of the bed.
There were tissues scattered on the floor on his side of the bed and on his night stand, his clothes that he would’ve worn to his meeting were in a messy pile on the floor, he was in boxers and no shirt, his hair messy, as he sniffled into the pillows, curled up in a thin but fuzzy duck blanket.
“Sweetie, what happened?” You asked sweetly, sitting down next to him at the edge of the bed, rubbing his scalp.
“I-I was gonna go to my m-meeting today, but when I went to get out of bed everything it just felt like I couldn’t do it.. and I started spiraling and I called Charlie and told her to go instead..” Luci explained through sniffles, clutching the blanket closer to his chest.
“Aww, darling.” You cooed lovingly, caressing his cheek, “How about this; I go run a nice, hot bath for the two of us, and then we can cuddle and take a nap, and then try to clean everything up. You can even bring in a few ducks if you want.” Lucifer perked up at your offer, nodding eagerly.
“Okay.” You smiled, chuckling softly, “Just keep your pretty little self here while I go run the water.” You said, getting up to leave, but you turned around as you got to the doorway. “Bubbles or no bubbles?” You asked with a knowing smile.
“…Bubbles, please.”
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Velvette had sent you off to go check on Vox, normally he comes out of his security room to check on either her or Valentino, or you, and surprisingly he hadn’t today
You worked for the Vee’s but you were also friends, you were important enough to be basically considered an honorary Vee member, but you were unimportant enough to be cut from big social events and have a fair amount of work dumped on you last minute — And you were an assistant (as well as partner) to Vox
You knocked on the door to Vox’s office room, when no response came from the other side you slowly opened the door, and you saw a very stressed Vox.
His screen was in his hands, letting out small sniffles, but he would glitch here and there as the watery tears shocked his chords.
“Baby, you good?” You asked, standing behind him.
He whipped around, scrambling to wipe away any remaining tears, “Oh- Uh- Yeah- I’m fine.” He muttered, turning back around.
“Were you crying?” You asked, hesitantly, you’d never seen him cry before, other than sex, you both had only been together a few months.
“What? No! I don’t do that shit.” He scoffed, it was clear he was getting defensive, he didn’t like to be caught like this, but he’d rather it be you than someone else.
“Vox…” You pushed, maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did anyway. “Fine. Rough day, okay? Work is stressful as fuck.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, “Do you wanna lay down? Maybe take a nap? And you come back in an hour or two?” You suggested softly, Vox could be stubborn as hell at times, and you weren’t trying to push your luck.
Vox hesitates momentarily, before muttering a small, “I guess…”
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rafecameroninterlude · 4 months
Note
love your new theme and rafe + noncon (if your uncomfortable just ignore this)
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warnings: non-con!!, ex-bf!rafe, possessiveness, breaking and entering (?), obsession, manipulation, unprotected sex
a/n: i’m so happy you love the theme, thank youuu <3 also i got a little carried away so this is a tiny bit longer than a drabble lol
“yes, i’m just so excited! i haven’t been on a date in so long..” you held your phone between your cheek and your shoulder as you fixed the straps of your heels. “oh, my god, please tell me you’re wearing that one sexy dress that you keep in the back of your closet,” you laughed softly, “the dress that rafe never let me wear? yeah, i’m wearing it out tonight.” your friend squealed excitedly on the other line. “i just know you look insanely hot right now. what was that guy’s name again?” she asked. “warner. remember, he’s the one that stopped me outside when we were out for brunch?” you grabbed your purse, looking at yourself in the mirror one last time.
“oh, that’s right! okay, stay safe and tell me all the details when you get back.” she said. “i will, bye!” you hung up, making your way to the front door.. except it was already open. “warner, huh?” your heart dropped at the voice. it couldn’t be. “how did you get in here, rafe?” your voice was shaky, fear planting your feet in place. he sighed, pressing his chest to your back as he closed the door, locking it shut. “i made a spare key.” he shrugged, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. “where do you think you’re going, y/n?” his chin rested in the crook of your neck.
“on a date.” his breath was hot against your skin. “no, no, i don’t think so..” he whispered in your ear, a hand coming up to wrap around your throat. you should’ve known it wasn’t going to be this easy to ‘move on’ from rafe. he made it nearly impossible for you to get through each day without a reminder. the cryptic messages, the constant deliveries and showering of gifts, it, he, was inescapable. “please leave.” you whimpered, a chill running down your spine as his grip tightened around the column of your throat. “what did i tell you about this dress?” he traced a finger down your side.
“you have to leave me alone, rafe. i’m begging.” tears started forming in your eyes. “leave you alone and then what? let someone else have you? oh, baby..” he shook his head, “i’ll die before that happens.” you screamed as he dragged you down the hallway, tripping over your feet until he pushed you onto your bed. he straddled you, taking your chin between his thumb. “look at this makeup..” he marveled at the sight of your glossed lips and shimmery eyes, “i’ve always thought you looked prettier after i ruin it.” he laid you down, breathing in the scent of your perfume.
you pushed at his chest, the action deemed useless as he didn’t budge. his nose ran across the underside of your jaw. “you know what i’ve had to do since you left me?” he pinned your thigh onto his hip, stroking the soft flesh of your ass. “i spray your perfume on my pillows so that i could still go to sleep and wake up to you everyday.” you cried, still trying to push him off. “everything was so perfect..” he pulled away, wiping a stray tear from your eye, “until you fucked it all up.” he pinned both of your hands between the valley of your breasts. “until you said i was too controlling and left.” he said through gritted teeth.
rafe locked eyes with you as he undid his belt. “no. no, don’t do this.” you tried to kick and thrash, but the weight of him didn’t let you. “shhh, i’m not going to do anything i haven’t already done.” he cupped your cheeks, taking your lips in a searing kiss. you bit his bottom lip in a poor attempt to stop him but it only spurred him on even more. “you can’t hurt me, baby.” he laughed, sliding your panties to the side. “stop!” you looked away from him, screwing your eyes shut as he forced himself into you. you gasped, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. “i don’t believe you when you say you don’t want this, you know why?” he stroked your folds, holding his fingers up.
“look at how fucking wet you are, i just slid right in.” he smeared the shiny digit against your lips. you whimpered, hating your body for betraying you in this very moment. “please, rafe.” you shuddered when you finally looked at him again, a sadistic grin adorning his face. “keep going? i am.” he groaned, his eyebrows knitting together as his jaw went slack. “fuck, i missed this pussy so much,” he hiked your dress up around your hips, his thumb now rubbing fast circles on your clit, “tell me you missed me too.” he tugged on the roots of your hair, forcing you to look down at where you two were connected.
you swallowed thickly, feeling yourself approaching your orgasm. “i missed you too.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but rafe still heard you clearly. “yeah?” he tenderly stroked the side of your voice. “yes. ‘missed you so much, ray.” your eyes rolled back as your legs began trembling around his waist. rafe’s hips stuttered, both of you clinging onto one another as you fell over the edge. tears rolled down your cheeks, your vision hazy while he spilled into you, your cunt still clenching around him for everything he had. you stared at the ceiling once rafe collapsed on top of you, running your fingers through his hair.
you two stayed like this for a few minutes before the door bell chimed. as if you snapped out of a trance, you were suddenly hyper aware of the sticky mess between your thighs. rafe got up, making his way to the front door as you laid there on your bed, legs feeling like jelly. you didn’t even want to imagine what rafe was saying to warner right now. you sighed, sitting up once rafe walked back into the room, a smug look on his face. “he won’t be coming back. let’s get in the shower and call it a night, yeah?” you nodded, allowing him to undress you. “ray?” you watched as he took your heels off, “yeah, pretty girl?” he glanced up, meeting your tear stained eyes.
“are you staying?” rafe massaged your foot, “yeah, and you’re not leaving.”
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surftrips · 9 months
Note
Maybe you could do single dad jj maybank he’s in college and has to do a project with the reader and has to bring the baby with them and they bond and start to hang out a lot then they start to date also maybe she’s a single mom I feel like that would be like a unique thing
thank you so much for this request! i hope you don't mind that i switched it up a bit (and got carried away lol) but reader is the single mom here and her and jj have known each other their whole lives :)
when you know, you know
pairing: jj maybank x reader
summary: y/n needs a babysitter and jj is the only person available.
word count: 3.5k
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"Okay, I understand. Thanks, anyway," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and hanging up the phone. Your babysitter had just canceled on you, and the timing could not have been worse. 
You had been planning this night for months. Between your classes, a part-time job, and taking care of your 2-year-old Margo, it was nearly impossible to schedule anything. But you desperately needed a night out and your friend Emma had so kindly offered to set you up on a blind date. 
You scrolled through your contacts list, looking for anyone that was sober on a Friday night, a seemingly impossible task. Glancing at the time, you realized that you only had an hour left to find a babysitter and get ready. 
As panic set in, you received a text from the P4L groupchat. 
JJ: Wtw tonight?
Not now JJ, you thought. 
Y/N: Trying to find a babysitter, mine just canceled :/
Kie: Oh no, Y/N!! I'm so sorry :(
Cleo: Sorry babes, I totally wouldd but I already lost count of how many drnks I've had 2nite xxx
JJ: Wait, you guys went out already?
Sarah: JJ, we told you it's a girls night.
JJ: In that case, Y/N, I'll watch Margo! 
Absolutely not, was your first thought. JJ Maybank was probably the last person you wanted to take care of your child, he was practically one himself. 
Besides, since you had Margo, he was always acting weird around you. Before, you two would hang out all the time, but now he only saw you if there was another person there as a buffer. He hardly visited or called, but you were so preoccupied with raising a baby on your own that you hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it. 
In the beginning, people assumed it was his baby you were pregnant with, but you never crossed that line because your friendship meant the world to each other. He was the first person you told when you found out you were going to be a mother, and you remember how excited he was for you. It was hard to believe how distant he had become, and you wondered why he had volunteered himself tonight. 
You assessed the situation: you hadn't gone out in nearly two years, and who knew when the next opportunity would be? You sighed, hardly believing the words you were about to type on your phone. 
Y/N: Ok. How soon can you be here? 
Y/N: You better be sober, JJ. 
You turned your phone off before the others could protest, knowing that half of them were drunk anyway. 
"Uncle JJ is going to come over and watch you tonight, okay? Mommy is going to be gone for just a few hours," you said to your daughter, picking her up and placing her in your eye line so you could do your makeup.
"Jay Jay?" she repeated. 
"Yes, honey," you smiled, trying to reassure her, or yourself. Out of all the pogues, Kiara and Sarah babysat Margo the most. She had probably only met JJ a handful of times and you worried about how well she would do with him alone. 
As if he could read your mind, your phone began ringing and you looked over to see his face on your screen.
"JJ, please don't tell me you're canceling too."
"What? Oh, no, it's not that. I was just wondering if you needed me to bring anything for Margo?" 
"Oh," you relaxed. "Hmmm, I think we have everything we need here. But thank you for asking, JJ."
"Of course," you could hear him smiling on the other line. "You know, thanks for letting me watch Margo. I've been meaning to visit her more." 
"JJ, you know you're weren't my first choice," you teased. "But yeah, of course. Thanks, I owe you." 
You hung up the phone, thoughts from earlier creeping back into your mind. You always assumed that the baby scared JJ away, but sometimes you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more going on. 
However, now was not the time for you to be thinking about this, considering that you now had 30 minutes left until your date showed up and you had yet to pick out a dress.
"Hmmmm, let's see. Any suggestions, Margo?" you asked your daughter, combing through your closet for something appropriate. You settled on a short black dress with a boat neck, and black knee high boots to go along with it. 
"What do we think, sweetie?" you smiled at Margo.
"Pretty!" she clapped her small hands together. 
"Why, thank you, baby. Come on, let's go see if Uncle JJ is here yet," you picked her up and checked your phone for any notifications. 
Blind Date: Be there in 5! :)
Crap, you thought. Where is JJ? 
You shot back a confirmation for your date and looked out the window for any sign of JJ. You weren't sure if he was biking over or he had borrowed the Twinkie, but there was no sign of anyone outside. 
Growing anxious, you gathered Margo's favorite toys and books into the living room and tidied up your apartment to pass the time. 
Exactly 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang. You smoothed down your dress and checked your hair in the mirror one last time. Putting on your best smile, you went to open the door. 
"Hi–" you started. "Oh, it's you." 
"Come on, that's what I get for dropping everything and saving your ass?" JJ responded. 
"Sorry, weren't you the one with no plans on a Friday?" 
"You know, I can just turn around right now-" 
"Stop!" you pleaded. "Okay, sorry, I've been anxious about this all day and I just want to get back to Margo as fast as I can." 
"Relax, Y/N. I'm here now," he took in your appearance. "You look great, by the way." 
The last time he saw you remotely dressed up like this was prom night. 
You couldn't help but blush, looking around for Margo to hide your face. "Margo, look who it is!" 
"Jay Jay!" she babbled. 
"Oh my god, she knows my name!" JJ replied, looking a little perplexed. 
"You know what, I'm surprised too considering she's only met you, like, four times," you said. 
"Alright, you're no fun," he looked at you as you traded your daughter over to his arms. "Miss Margo and I here are going to have the time of our lives. Aren't we?" 
He tickled her, causing her to giggle. She seemed so comfortable in his arms, you wondered why you were ever worried in the first place. 
"Thanks again for doing this, I know we haven't talked in a while-" you started. 
"So, where's the lucky guy?" he interrupted you. 
"Uhh," you looked over at the clock. "He said he would be here by now." 
"Late to the first date? That's a red flag, Y/N." 
"As if you're not a walking red flag, JJ. What did you get here on? Your bike?"
"Hey! I refurbished that bike all on my own! It takes a lot of skill to do that."
Just then, the doorbell rang. You rushed to open the door, a smile plastered on your face again. 
"Hey! You must be Emma's friend! I'm Tom." he greeted you with a hug and a bouquet of flowers. "I'm sorry for being late, I went to get these flowers for you and was distracted by the girl scouts selling cookies outside. I had to support them, you know?" 
"Oh, no worries! Yes, how can you say no to them?" you laughed softly. You took the flowers from him and went to place them on the table closest to you, beckoning him to come in.
"Tom, this is one of my friends, JJ. He's babysitting my daughter, Margo, while we're gone," you said.
"Ah! What a pleasure," Tom went over to shake JJ's hand and politely wave at your daughter. "I promise not to keep your mom out too late tonight." 
"That's right, need her back before midnight," JJ remarked.
You playfully pushed him in response, grabbing your keys. "Alright, you have my number so please call me if you need anything. Bye Margo, mommy loves you!" 
With that, you and Tom headed outside and into his car. 
On the drive over to the restaurant, you learned that Tom was a psychologist, he liked to cook, and reality TV shows were his guilty pleasure. At the restaurant, which was a higher-end place near the water, he pulled out your chair for you. 
"I hope this place is okay, I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked so I thought somewhere nicer would be safe," he said. 
"Oh, this is perfect. Don't even worry about it," you smiled. "I haven't had a proper night out in so long, I wouldn't have minded if you took me to a burger joint." 
He laughed, "Margo is adorable, by the way. How old is she?"
"She's 2," you said. Then, feeling the need to clarify, "I had her when I was 20, at the beginning of my junior year in college."
"I see, how was that? How did you manage classes?" You were surprised at his demeanor, half-expecting him to judge you or run in the opposite direction any second now, but his inquisition was genuine.
"Well, I could still go to classes during the first trimester, but it got more difficult after that so I took a leave of absence. I'm taking night classes now because I work in the mornings." 
"Oh nice, what degree are you going for?"
"English, I want to be a teacher," you explained.
"My mom was a teacher," he smiled. "What age do you want to teach?"
"Oh no way! I want to teach elementary school kids. Everyone always tells me how hard it will be, but raising Margo... I don't love anything more than that." 
"That's really sweet, are you close with your family?"
You paused, trying to figure out how to answer the question. "Depends on who you consider my family, I guess," you laughed awkwardly. "I'm not close with my parents, but my friends? Those are the most important people in my life." 
He smiled, "I understand. I'm glad you have a support system, being a single mother can be hard." 
"Yeah, I'm super grateful. Actually, my babysitter for tonight canceled last-minute and JJ came to the rescue. I don't know what I would've done without him." 
Tom's smile faltered for an unnoticeable second. "How long have you known him for?"
"JJ? My whole life, probably. I can't imagine a time when he wasn't by my side. He was there for me throughout my entire pregnancy, but after..." you trailed off.
"After...?"
"Afterwards," you hesitated, not wanting to bad-mouth your friend. "I guess he started to distance himself more, I think Margo scared him away honestly."
"You think it was Margo and nothing else?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just mean," he sighed. "Do you think there could be any other reason why he would be so supportive of you before and not after you had Margo?" 
"I-I'm not sure. I haven't had much time to think about it, I guess."
"You want my opinion?" Tom asked. You searched his face for any sign of spitefulness, but came up empty. 
"I saw the way he looked at you and Margo, earlier. That boy is not scared of either of you. In fact, all I saw was love. Did you ever think he’s grappling with those feelings?” 
"His feelings? For me?" It was not the first time you thought about it, but it was the first time you heard it verbalized. 
"Yes, I know I sound crazy, but seriously, Y/N, what other reason could there be to explain his behavior?"
You racked your brain for all the possible explanations. Tom had a point, if JJ had feelings for you at some point in your friendship, or still does, he might feel the need to distance himself to protect you. 
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"I told you, I'm a psychologist. I notice these things," he smiled.
"Is this how all of your first dates go?" you laughed.
"Not all of them, but I’ll admit, a few are like this. But tell me, am I wrong to assume there was something more going on between you two before you got pregnant?"
You sighed, "No, you're not wrong. Our feelings for each other were a truth that neither of us wanted to confront. We were young, we didn't want to be tied down, it was college. But he was always there, by my side, through everything. Of course, I loved him." 
"Well, there you go. There's your answer." 
Tom dropped you off around midnight. You assured him that there was no need to walk you to your door, you both knew that you needed to have a conversation with JJ.
"Thank you again for tonight, we seriously need to meet up again," you said, before shutting your door.
"Absolutely, I'll give you the address to my office," he joked.
You turned the key into your door as quietly as possible, in case JJ was also asleep with Margo. Inside, the lights were off and you pulled out your phone flashlight to search for him. 
You went into Margo's room first, seeing that she was fast asleep in her crib. "Hi baby," you whispered. "Where's Uncle JJ?" 
After making sure she was tucked in properly, you turned to go into your bedroom. Sure enough, there was JJ, fast asleep in your bed. 
You couldn't help but smile, recalling memories from high school when you two would have sleepovers. Being sure to keep quiet, you changed into your pajamas and got ready for bed.
Trying your best to not wake up JJ, you pulled open the blanket on your side of the bed and slipped in next to him. 
"Goodnight, JJ," you whispered. 
In the morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes in the kitchen. For a second, you weren't sure you were even in your apartment, remembering that you live alone with Margo and surely, you weren't asleep long enough for her to know her way around the kitchen.
But then you remembered that JJ was babysitting last night and had fallen asleep in your bed before you got home. 
After a long stretch, you got up and went into the kitchen.
"There she is, good morning pretty," JJ smiled at you. 
"Morning... When did you learn how to cook?" you questioned.
"What do you mean? I've always known how to make pancakes."
"Okay, that is just a straight up lie. In high school you would have chips for breakfast."
JJ put his hand to his chest, taking mock offense. "If you must know, I started teaching myself how to cook last year when I moved off-campus." 
"Wow, I must say, I am impressed, Mr. Maybank."
"Please, that's my father. You can call me JJ," he said, causing you both to laugh. 
Were his eyes always this blue? You thought, as you admired his features in the morning light. 
After a moment, you broke the silence. "Uh- I better go check on Margo. How was she last night, by the way?"
"Oh, amazing. Best kid ever." 
"Really? She didn't give you a hard time at all?"
"Nope, must have remembered me from when she was in the womb."
You smiled, turning around to your daughter's room.
Sure enough, Margo was sleeping like the baby she was. You checked the clock, she wouldn't be up for at least another hour.
"Margo's still in one piece?" JJ asked when you reentered the kitchen.
"Yes, somehow,” you mused. 
"Good, want to try these pancakes now?"
"Yes, please, I'm starving," you sat down across from JJ.
"Starving? Your date didn't feed you last night?"
"Very funny, if you want to know about my date, you can just ask." 
"Okay, how was your date?" he relented. 
"He's a psychologist." 
"Cool, anything else?" JJ looked slightly confused. 
"He was very normal and nice," you added.
“I would hope so.”
“Yes, and he likes to cook too.”
“That’s great, how was the date itself?”
“Oh the date itself…” you trailed off. 
"Y/N, why are you acting weird?"
"Weird? Me? I'm just telling you about my date." 
"You're talking about him like he's your therapist."
"Well, in a way, it was like a therapy session."
"So the date went bad?"
"No, it was really nice." 
JJ looked around the kitchen, "Did I accidentally put something in the pancake batter to make you act like this or...?" 
"These are great, by the way," you said, pointing to the pancakes with your fork.
"Thanks, but can we get back to the date?" 
"Oh, yeah, well, basically," you started. 
"Y/N." JJ was rarely ever serious, but he was starting to look concerned with you. 
"Okay, fine. It started off really well, we got to know each other. Then, he was asking about Margo and my family, and I told him about my parents, you know. Then he asked about you, and I told him I've known you forever, but after Margo, you started distancing yourself and we haven't seen or talked to each other in a while, and then-" you rambled. 
"Then what?"
"And then, he told me, or rather he made me realize, that maybe we need to address the feelings we may or may not have had for each other before I got pregnant," you finished in a rush.
JJ was silent, you weren't sure if the expression on his face was scared or bemused. 
"JJ, please say something." 
"Was that all?"
"More or less."
He sighed, "Y/N, I think one of the reasons why our friendship worked so well was because we both knew that at any moment, we could pursue something more, but we didn't. We both knew that doing that would ruin our friendship, something we've had for nearly twenty years. I thought college was going to be four years of partying and distractions, but instead, I had to face reality”
“Distractions?”
“Everyone that wasn’t you was a distraction, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“Uh, no. It wasn't, actually. JJ, you kept telling me you were trying to meet ‘the one!’” 
“Well, I was lying! Okay? You were always the one for me. I just didn’t feel like I was the one for you. So I was stupid and I decided we would be better off as friends, but when you got pregnant…” 
“When I got pregnant…?”
“When you told me about Margo, I panicked. I knew you were strong enough to do this on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to. I told myself that I was going to be there for you every step of the way, and I was, until you gave birth. I saw Margo for the first time, and I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”
“Do what, JJ? You know I never needed you to be her father.” 
“I know, I know. I saw her and I couldn’t imagine hurting her. I didn’t want her to know me, because to know me is to be disappointed by me,” he sighed.
“JJ,” you stood up now to wrap your arms around him. “Are you kidding me? I was never, never disappointed by you. I was just worried, babe, that’s all. You stopped talking to me after that.” 
JJ allowed himself to fall into your arms. “I’m sorry, it just felt like too much at the time. I loved- love you and Margo so much, that I didn’t know what to do with all of it. So I thought it was best to give you some space, until I was better.”
You chuckled, “Is that why you taught yourself how to cook?”
“Stop, I was actually starving and had no choice.”
“And are you better now?”
“When I heard you were going on a date, do you want to know what I thought?”
“What?”
“I thought, I let her go again. I let you go a million times in college, and here I am, letting you go again.” 
When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I came over here tonight to show you that. I’m ready for whatever this is going to be, whatever this friendship evolves into. I spent too much time denying the truth, and I think you have too.” 
There were not enough words to describe how you were feeling, so you leaned in to kiss your best friend. JJ held your face with such gentleness, you wondered if this was all in your imagination. 
Eventually, you pulled away. “I’m done lying, to myself and to each other. This is real, yes?” you asked.
“Yes, I love you, really.”
“I love you too, Maybank.” 
You leaned in for a second time, but not before you heard the familiar cries of Margo in the other room. 
“Don’t worry, I got it,” he smiled with that boyish grin of his that you loved so much. That you have always loved. 
788 notes · View notes
horangare · 1 year
Note
omggg please do a part 2 to the dilf jeonghan fic
tis the season
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pairing : dilf!jeonghan x college student!reader
content : smut (mdni u already know)
in which : it’s time for christmas break, and iseul is asking you to buy some time with her father so she can finish her last minute shopping. you’ve been meaning to spend some one on one time with her dad, and now you finally can
warnings : age gap (late 40’s jeonghan, early 20’s reader), daddy kink (i’m sorry but it’s also like barely there), pet names (princess, baby, good girl, slut, whore, sir), dom & sub dynamics, dumbification, teasing (dirty talk, degradation, praise), mentions of multiple orgasms, fingering, finger sucking, lingerie kink (kinda? i think?), u two want each other so bad, iseul (yeah she’s a warning in this one lol), hannie’s kinda mean but u like it
wc : 3.3K words
note : i was wondering how long it would be before someone requested this. srry it took so long omg i had no idea what i wanted to do w this i literally had like 3 diff ideas
part 1
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By now, the Yoon household had become like a second home to you.
Even though it was just Iseul, Jeonghan, and that big maze of a house, it didn’t ever feel like anything was missing. Since Iseul brought you over the first time, things hardly ever changed. You’d still slept in Iseul’s room whenever you slept over (until Jeonghan made one of the guest rooms into a room for you, then the two of you both started having your sleepovers there), you still took a wrong turn trying to find the bathroom and ended up in the kitchen or the laundry room, and you still ended up bent over on a new surface somewhere in the house while Jeonghan had his way with you.
It was a comfortable routine. One you were upset would have to abandon for the next three weeks to drag yourself back to your dull little hometown to spend time with your family and a handful of other relatives who’s names you couldn’t remember even if you tried.
“You know you could just come stay with us,” Iseul said offhandedly one day when you mentioned how much you were dreading on returning home. The suggestion hadn’t held that much meaning when Iseul gave it, she already knew just how much you enjoyed coming over, but in that moment she had become your saving grace.
“Really? You mean it?” The girl just nodded, jumping in surprise when you pulled her into a hug and spun her around. “What would I do without you, Iseul?”
“Wow, it’s that bad, huh?” She laughed, patting you on the shoulder once you had placed her back on the ground.
“Oh please, you have no idea.”
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You rode in Iseul’s car for the first time the next day. When she asked how you were planning to get there and you mentioned the countless number of times you’ve Ubered back and forth to her house, she nearly started crying and promised to drive you anywhere you wanted from now on. “Do you know how much money that adds up to? No more Ubers!”
So now here you were, in the passengers seat of Iseul’s white Honda Accord, gripping onto the handle above the door as Iseul sped down the roads with the most stoic look on her face you think you’ve ever seen. The Ubers may have been expensive, but at least they were safe. It confused you a little; you had ridden in the car with Jeonghan at the wheel before and never had an experience like this. Clearly Iseul hadn’t inherited those skills from him, but right now you were wishing she had.
“Are you alright?” She looked over at you when the car finally came to a stop at a red light. You nodded, one of your hands flat against your chest as you felt your heart threatening to beat right out of your ribcage. Iseul smiled, either ignoring the panic you were trying to hide or not picking up on it at all as she sped off as soon as the light had turned green. “We’re gonna take a shortcut, there’s way too much traffic right now and—shit!” The car lurched to a halt, both you and Iseul’s bodies jerking forward with the sheer force of the stop. “Oops, I almost hit the curb.”
You really needed your own car.
After spending the next eight minutes in Iseul’s death trap car, you pretty much threw yourself out of the seat when you saw that she was pulling into the garage to the side of the house. You considered kissing the ground, but you didn’t. Your sister was a worse driver.
“Dad, we’re home,” Iseul shouted into the warm interior of the house. There was no immediate verbal response from Jeonghan, he just snaked his way through the hallways of the space with a mug in his hands and a smile on his face.
“Hi, Seulie,” He hummed, letting his eyes wander over to you. “Hello, [Y/n].”
“Hi, Mr. Yoon.”
“How was the drive? Was there a lot of traffic?” Jeonghan had already started retreating back to the living room, you and Iseul followed, seating yourselves next to each other on the couch.
“It was fine. The traffic wasn’t so bad, everyone’s probably going to the airport.” Iseul hummed. She turned her head in your direction. “Dad’s happy you’re staying over. He pretends like he’s calm about it, but he giggled when I called him and told him earlier.”
Your body flushed with heat at your friend’s casual comment, your eyes flitting over to Jeonghan, who was staring down into his mug. The two of you haven’t gotten to spend much time together for a while since you were usually coming over to spend time with Iseul lately. He missed you.
“We’ll have the next three weeks to spend together, sir.” You smiled, finally getting him to look back at you. One of his eyebrows quirked upwards—he was expecting to keep that promise, but he wouldn’t say it. He would just expect you to act on it.
And you would.
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You hadn’t acted on it.
A week into staying with Iseul and Jeonghan, you had spent almost every waking moment of your time with your friend. Baking cookies, decorating the house, watching Christmas movies, going ice skating for the first time in your life (and having Iseul laugh at you until she cried when you ate shit on the ice over and over again), and a plethora of other festive events. You had been having such a good time with her, the promise you made to Jeonghan had let itself slip from your mind. The most the two of you could do was kiss for a few seconds before Iseul came popping up from around a corner or shouting your name to the house in hopes of a response. She was his daughter, and you were her friend, but he was losing his patience. All he wanted was some time to have you all to himself.
Maybe today he would finally get the chance.
Monday morning greeted you with a six am phone call from Iseul, which you answered, your mind and voice still riddled with sleep. “Hello?”
“So sorry to call you so early, but I am totally gonna make it up to you.”
“Iseul, what—”
“Look, I have to finish shopping for presents. I don’t know when I’ll be done, there’s kind of a lot on my list,” She explained, and you thought she was joking. It was just her, you, and Jeonghan. How long could the list possibly be? “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know where I was. Something else…oh! Maybe spend some time with dad while I’m away. He gets lonely, y’know. Okay, that’s all, bye!” Iseul hung up the phone before you could even process everything she had said, leaving you staring at the device in your hand dumbfounded.
“Okay.” You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and to the bathroom (the one connected to your new room, because you were sick and tired of almost pissing yourself because you walked into the study instead) to freshen up.
Finally, you thought. Finally you’d have private time to spend, just you and Jeonghan. The time you spend with Iseul was precious to you, obviously, the girl was your best friend. But if you said the reason you had wanted to come over was just to avoid your family and bond with Iseul, you’d have been lying. You smiled to yourself, wondering what the two of you would do, and you squeezed your thighs together if it would be anything like you had come to finish your midterm project.
You jumped at the sound of the door opening and peeked your head out of the bathroom, your body relaxing when you saw Jeonghan standing in the doorway, his hands behind his back. You sighed with relief, bending over slightly to spit out the toothpaste in your mouth and wiping your mouth.
“Do you and Iseul always wake up so early?” You asked him as he got closer. He shook his head.
“It’s usually just me that’s up at this time.” He mumbled. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Last minute shopping.” You said, finally turning your body to face his. His hands were still behind his back, and Jeonghan smirked when you tried to peek at what he was hiding. “What is that?”
“What, this?” He shrugged. “Oh nothing. Just something I picked up one day. It’s supposed to be your present, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give it to you now, hm?”
You gasped, your heart swelling with the knowledge that Jeonghan had gone out and gotten something for you. Both of his eyebrows shot up at the excitement creeping onto your face and he quickly turned away from you.
“Or maybe I should just wait until Christmas. You wouldn’t mind, would you? I’m sure the presents Seulie got for you will be better than this.” Still smirking, Jeonghan started to walk away but stopped in place when you pulled on his arm.
“No! I’m sorry sir, really am.” You pouted, reaching to try and take the present from Jeonghan, but he easily held it just out of your reach. “Iseul will be gone for a while. It’s…just the two of us.”
Jeonghan groaned at that. He loved his daughter, but he’d gone too long without getting to have you all to himself. Turning back around, Jeonghan placed the gift in your hands. “Alright, princess. Just one condition before you open this.”
“Anything for you, sir.” You but your lip in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the response he would give you. Jeonghan leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“You have to do anything I say, got that?” You exhaled shakily, but you still nodded, and Jeonghan cupped your face, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip.
“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He tasted good, sweet, like hot chocolate. That’s probably what he’s been drinking in that mug everyday. When he pulled away, you whined, much to Jeonghan’s delight. “I’m not going anywhere. Go on, open your present.”
You smiled, giving your full attention to the neatly wrapped box in your hands, gently untying the silver ribbon holding it together and lifting the top of the box up. You gasped. Lingerie. Jeonghan got you lingerie. “S-sir, I…”
“Put it on for me. Right here.”
Stunned into silence by his abrupt request, your clothing was thrown to the ground with haste. Jeonghan watched you the entire time from his seat on the edge of your bed, drinking in the way you would fidget and avoid making eye contact with him. Yeah, you were a little nervous. He’s never asked you to strip for him, usually he would just rip off your clothes to avoid wasting any time. He really seemed to be enjoying the fact that Iseul was away.
“It’s pretty, sir.” You whispered, tracing your fingers over the delicate lace now adorning your skin. It was white with pale pink detailing, and the bra piece had mesh slips that went all the way around your upper body. The bottom piece was a thong with a slit at the crotch. Oh, and one more tiny little detail. It was almost entirely see through. “Did you have to get something with one of these…holes?”
Jeonghan nodded, pulling you into his lap, your back flush against his chest. “Makes things easier,” he said, trailing his fingers up your inner thigh. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of them circling around your wet hole. “Already so wet for me, aren’t you?” You nodded, unable to stop the moan that spilled from your lips when he pushed one of them inside you.
There was nothing Jeonghan wanted more than to fuck you senseless right now. He’d been holding himself back for a week. Just the sounds of your moans and the way he had to hold you down just to get you to stop squirming had his cock straining against his pants. The only reason he bothered with foreplay was so you’d take him without a fuss (and because he liked it when you begged him not to stop).
Your head fell back onto Jeonghan’s shoulder at the addition of a second finger, your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hanging open while you panted and whined. “F-Feels s’ good, sir. Missed this so much. Missed you so much.”
“Missed you too, baby,” Jeonghan mumbled, curling his fingers up inside of you to hit that spot that had your head spinning. You’re shaking and sweating and you can’t think straight, the feeling of Jeonghan’s fingers caressing your insides forces any other thoughts out of your head. Just when you think you can’t handle anything else, Jeonghan suddenly pinches your swollen clit, the sensation making you tighten around his fingers as you scream. “Liked that, didn’t you?” He repeated the action, the corners of his lips tilting upwards when your body reacted the same way once again.
“Mmm, yeah, liked it so much, sir. Gonna c-cum, can I?” You forced your eyes open to look at him, the pleasing look on your face doing nothing but making him harder. If he didn’t need to fuck you so bad, he would’ve said no. Seeing as this wasn’t the case, Jeonghan nodded, despite wanting this to last just a little longer.
“Yeah, princess. Go ahead and cum for me.”
His permission was all you needed before you allowed yourself to fall apart on his fingers. You cry out his name over and over until you’re left breathless. Jeonghan continues to finger you until your high has passed, and once it has, he pulls his fingers out and holds them up to your mouth. “Open,” he says, and you allow your lips to part enough for him to stick them into your mouth.
The taste of yourself on your own tongue and the action itself has you groaning, and you close your lips around his fingers, sucking off every last drop of your release.
“Good girl, sucking my fingers like the whore you are. I almost forgot how much of a slut you are,” This time, Jeonghan groans at your actions, pulling his fingers away. When you finally opened your eyes again, he was already naked. Oh, naked Jeonghan, one of your favorite sights, by far. Leaning forward, you ghosted your hands over the base of his cock, which had the older man moaning. “Fuck, baby, so desperate for my cock aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
You fell backwards onto the bed and gazed up into Jeonghan’s eyes, holding onto his arms tightly as the tip of his cock slipped into your aching pussy. It had been long—too long—that you had gone without the satisfying feeling of Jeonghan stretching you apart and filling you to the brim, you almost forgot how good it felt. Jeonghan felt the same, he had long craved the warmth of your insides, how wet you’d get for him so easily, how you so easily obeyed his every order.
He didn’t bother to start off slow, not when he had been waiting so long to finally have you like this. His pace was rough and unforgiving, each thrust seemed deeper than the last, but still you loved every second of it.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting his to be as close to you as he could possibly be. “Ah! Yes, right there, sir!” You cried, out as his cock abused your sweet spot, your eyes rolling back into your head.
“Feels so good, doesn’t it, princess? You like it when I fuck you like this? Hm? When I use this tight, cute little pussy of yours?”
You nodded, the words you had planned to say dying at the back of your throat and being replaced by sounds that were a combination of grunts and moans. With one of his hands, Jeonghan held onto your face, trying to get you to look at him. Your eyes were glassy and unfocused with lust, and Jeonghan grinned at your fucked-out state.
“Oh baby, if only you could see yourself,” He groaned. “So fucking pretty, you can’t even use your words. All you can do is moan like the little cockslut you are, isn’t that right?” Just like he had done before, Jeonghan’s fingers pinched your clit, once again making you cry out with pleasure.
You tried to speak—to warn him of your imminent orgasm, but all you could squeak out were a chorus of high-pitched whines as the man above you pushed you closer to your release. He seemed to get the hint though, with the way your hole clenched around his cock, making it harder for him to move.
“Gonna cum, princess?” You squeaked again. “Aw, I know, baby. Poor sweet thing, can’t even tell me yourself. You don’t need to ask me, since I’m sure you would’ve cum anyway. But go ahead, cum.” His tone was so mean and condescending, and that was exactly that tone that made you cum for a second time.
Not even a moment after you had cum, Jeonghan was following you over the edge, pushing his cum deeper into your pulsating core all while your spent body shuddered beneath him. He shushed you, stroking your hair to get you to become calm and quiet once more before snapping his hips forward again.
“S-sir! I’m still…” Jeonghan shushed you again, never letting up with the fast pace he had set earlier on. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin being one of the only sounds in the room aside from your pornographic moans and the occasional groans or rare grunt from Jeonghan. You were so out of it, you couldn’t even stop the words that came flying out of your mouth. “D-Daddy, please…”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard Jeonghan moan so loud.
“It’s alright baby, Daddy’s got you.”
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The two of you continued for what felt like hours. Several different positions, a dozen more orgasms, one very long bath, and a two-hour long nap later, you could finally feel your body again. You blinked, looking around the room when Jeonghan opened the door.
“You’re awake,” his smile was gentle. “Do you need anything?”
You shook your head. “No, that’s alright, thank you.”
Jeonghan made his way to the bed and knelt down in front of you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?” The concern was written all over his face, the idea of you being in any sort of pain or discomfort would absolutely break his heart. Now you were the one smiling.
“No, never. If that were the case I would’ve told you, sir,” you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand linger on the side of his face. “I think I’m in love with you.” You confessed quietly, almost as if you were afraid to admit it.
“You’re really gonna act all shy after everything we’ve done today?” He teased you, resting his head on your thighs. “Don’t worry, princess. I love you too.”
Don’t worry princess, I love you too.
You could’ve died right then. Jeonghan’s cheek on your thigh, his breath tickling your skin, reciprocating his love for you. Nothing could be better. Just you, Jeonghan, and—
“Hellooooo? [Y/n]? Dad? I’m home.”
Iseul.
“Iseullllll!” You shouted. Jeonghan pulled himself away despite his reluctance to part from you and stood himself up right as Iseul walked into the room.
She gasped. “Dad? You’re here too? Did I miss something?”
“Nothing at all, Seulie.” Jeonghan assured his daughter, his hand on her back as he walked her out of the room. “Did you find everything you were looking for? Nothing happened to the car, right?”
“I drive fine, what do you mean? You’re mean, you know that? [Y/n] never complains about my driving.”
He spared you one last glance, and your heart skipped a beat. It was just like the last time. Except this time, you loved Jeonghan, and he loved you back.
And that was the only thing you could ever want for Christmas.
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