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#and before you ask yes this is going to be a full one shot from me shut up
pseudowho · 12 hours
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Deeper, Harder, Faster: Reader/Ino/Nanami
After a chat with the lovely @nanaslutt, I can with absolute delight say that they have given me their blessing to write this exquisite smut blurb in full.
Everyone say thank you @nanaslutt 🙇‍♀️ for allowing Haitch to go to town.
Based on this! post here. Please do go and like/reblog the original idea.
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Warnings: 18+, mentor/mentee relationship, threesome, PiV, anal, oral f!receiving
Here we go...
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Nanami Kento bristled with annoyance, as another doghouse sigh broke his fragile peace. Ino slumped on his arms, his cheek pressed against the table, looking like such a boy that Nanami couldn't help but enquire.
"What is it, Ino?"
"It's nothing, Nanami."
Nanami folded his book closed, huffing a little. "It's clearly not 'nothing'. I'm not one to pry, but--"
"It's my girlfriend, Nanami, I'm letting her down. She says 'go faster', or 'go deeper', or 'go harder' and she doesn't know what she's asking for, I don't want to hurt her--"
"Stop. Ino."
An awkward silence hung between Ino and Nanami for the former's fractious outburst, and the faintest blush smattered across Nanami's high cheekbones. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses.
"Well, that took...absolutely no insistence at all on my part, did it?" At Ino's groan, muffled as he pulled his balaclava down over his reddening face, Nanami cleared his throat again and continued. "While that was...altogether none of my business, I might hesitantly suggest that the young lady knows her own mind, Ino. If she is...dissatisfied with intimacy, have you considered doing as she asks?"
"I just think she's asking too much, y'know? I'll hurt her--"
"Have you a safe word?"
Ino hesitated, stuttering. "A-a...safe word?"
"Yes, a safeword. You've tried some different positions, I assume? Perhaps you've let her lead the way if she chooses? Responded to her cues?"
Nanami looked over his glasses with each recommendation, feeling grimmer and grimmer at Ino's continued vacant expression. Nanami hummed into his coffee, a cover-all sound of dismay, before a switch flicked on Ino's face.
"Could you show me?"
Nanami choked on his coffee, recovering with a cough, shocked by how eagerly his cock twitched against his thigh. Thoughts of watching you spread beneath Ino, pleasured by his own instruction, bloomed a sordid power fantasy he'd never known he had. He tried to look impassive, and not as eager as he felt.
"Show you?"
"Yeah, uh...I-I bet she wouldn't mind."
Nanami could blame the way that the blood rushed from his brain to his dick, as the reason for his easy agreement, but he'd be lying.
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Nanami was as taut as a bowstring, his suit-jacket discarded, in yours and Ino's bedroom. He was humid with the scent of your sex, shot through by your whimpers and gasps, as Ino fucked lazily against the bed with your clit in his mouth.
Nanami's fists clenched as your head rolled on the bed to look at him; the only outward sign that he was at all affected by your plush, parted lips, the way your breasts peaked, lonely and without attention, and the way your orgasm crept closer. And yet, it all meant naught when your pleasure was so two-dimensional.
"Deeper-- Takuma-- please--"
Though Ino was tonguing your wet little pussy to climax through mouth alone, you arched, frustrated, wanting more than just the first slim inch of Ino's fingers. Ino curled his fingertips barely past your entrance, featherlight, hardly past the first knuckle. Nanami suppressed a scowl.
Ino muffled something into your pussy as you came with a weak cry; an orgasm, yes, but not the one you had wanted. Not the one that would have you seeing God, and forgetting the days of the week. Your cunt and belly had, after all, been left utterly unfucked.
"See, baby? Nice and gentle..." Ino whispered against your thigh, pressing tender kisses to your folds, to your blushing, half-satisfied smile. "So good...so pretty--"
Nanami felt your frustration; despite having never been entered, he knew the unique deep, yanking climax of a hook behind one's navel, and suspected that you were fucking yourself better with toys than Ino was with his body.
Nanami squirmed, spreading his thighs to allow room for the heavy tenting of his lap, and tried to be unaffected by the way your head turned to him again, a thread of pleading in your eyes. Nanami was never one to deny a woman begging, and it tortured him even to pay witness to it, as a mentor.
All the worse, even Ino's cock was gentle, sliding into you as if you were made of glass. Nanami could have cried for the way Ino shook with the effort of holding back, despite your arching, despite the way you whispered to Ino, for him to move 'deeper' and 'harder' and 'faster'.
Watching the slow, supple roll of Ino's tight body into yours, and watching the way you had given up asking for more, Nanami's self-restraint snapped, his cool voice belying stormy waters.
"Listen to your girl, Ino. Do as she says."
Ino's hips stuttered, a flush on his cheeks as he threatened to come before he'd even taken you to the brink and back again.
"S-she's...she's okay, aren't you, babe?"
You blushed beneath Ino, lying as if you weren't scrutinised by sharp brown eyes; lying, as if your own eyes hadn't been begging for Nanami's intervention only moments before.
"Yeah, I...I'm fine, I--"
"Fine?" Nanami spat, on his feet now, and prowling around the end of the bed, examining Ino's slowly fucking hips from all angles.
"You're supposed to be pleasured until you can't remember your own name, and you're just fine?"
You blushed, called out, turning your head away as Ino's movements slowed to a halt, and he gazed down at you, breathless and uncertain.
"...babe?"
Nanami continued, growling, palming his aching cock against his zipper. His breath, his cologne, ghosted against Ino's flushed cheek.
"You're supposed to be making love to her, not treating her like a little glass doll. You're satisfied with her calling your cock 'fine'?"
Ino doubled down, foolishly. "I just don't wanna hurt her, I'm big and I--"
Nanami growled, his hand tangling into the back of Ino's hair to yank Ino's head backwards. Nanami's voice rang deep and dark and desperate; "She said deeper. She said harder. She said faster. Do you need to be forced?"
Ino's lip puckered up, almost tearful, defiant, as if he hadn't been the one who had asked his mentor for help. Nanami nodded, coming to a slow realisation, before firmly, affectionately, slapping Ino's cheek once, twice, three times.
"Ah...I see. Well, if that's the only way you'll learn..."
Ino watched with a squirm in his belly, as his mentor, thick-bodied and tall, paced over to the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube.
By the time Nanami had walked back round to observe the way that Ino's cock had completely stilled within you, he had unzipped himself and hooked his own aching cock and balls out.
Still in his tie, his shoes, his harness, fully dressed, Nanami hissed as he slid one lube-wettened fist down his twitching length, gritting his teeth, his eyes blackened over by something altogether more military. He cast his eyes over the pair of you once more, barely more than a pair of kids in your early twenties, fucking like amateurs.
It wasn't your fault, Nanami reasoned, masturbating himself as if his cock could possibly get any harder. And so, he threw his attention back to his mentee.
"What are you waiting for, Ino? Deeper. Harder. Faster."
Ino shuddered, every fine sinew across his sculpted shoulders twitching, as his hips picked up a fractured, barely increased pace. You arched again, sighing into the almost there thrusts into your core, whimpering with frustration when Ino chased his own hips backwards at your insistent arching.
In immediate response, Nanami's free hand slapped Ino hard across the ass, eliciting a yelp from Ino. A muffled giggle burst forth from you, before you clapped a hand over your mouth. It threatened to bubble over, as you swore you saw the hint of a laugh at the corner of Nanami's mouth. Instead he rumbled again, to Ino's mortified blushes.
"Deeper. Harder. Faster."
"I am, Nanami--"
"I don't see you having to hold her in place. I don't hear the headboard rattling. I don't hear a single fucking noise from her."
By the time another minute of Ino's shallow, pitiful thrusts had passed, Nanami had made up his mind. Ino felt another slap to his ass, yelping as Nanami chased him up the bed. You scooched up beneath him, and your heart stuttered to feel your boyfriend pressed down to your chest, with Nanami arching above him, mounting him.
"Am I going to have to show you, Ino?"
That voice; so much calmer than Nanami was, in truth, with precum dripping onto Ino's ass. Ino felt every hair on his body stand on end, swallowing thickly. He felt Nanami's cock, longer and thicker than his own, heavy against the small of his back.
"I...I..."
"Well?"
"I...o-okay. Y-yeah. Show me."
A satisfied grunt from behind Ino...and the wet pumping of a bottle of lube. Ino felt Nanami whisper at his ear, and a thick, insistent nudging at his entrance.
"Even with less prep than you gave your girl, you'll take me hard, and deep, and fast. If that's the only way to show you."
Ino felt Nanami's bulbous, slippery cock head fuck into his entrance with little warning, and Ino collapsed onto his forearms above you, his hips finally flush with yours as he was forced deeper into your pussy. Nanami swore, cursing and pushing himself even deeper in one swift movement, to bury his cock fully inside Ino.
Ino whimpered between you and Nanami, and you bit your lip, burying your fingers into Ino's hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
"...attaboy...show you what she needs, hmm? Fuck...so tight..."
Nanami appeared to be collecting himself above you both, panting and straining with the effort of giving Ino a moment to adjust. You threaded your other hand around Nanami's harness, your fingers tight against his chest, and he opened his eyes, heated. The hint of a smile was there again, and he looked into your eyes as he pulled almost completely out of Ino...before fucking into him again, immediately setting a ruthless pace.
You and Ino both crumpled as one, crushed beneath Nanami's overbearing force. The harsh drag and thrust of Nanami's cock in and out of Ino, moved Ino's hips for him. Ino's cock only hardened with Nanami's relentless pounding into his prostate, and you finally felt every single inch of Ino, forced into you to the hilt, finally giving you the belly-deep fullness you had craved for so long. Your guttural moan, and the way you dragged both Ino and Nanami closer by harness and hair, told Nanami he was finally hitting the mark.
"There you go...Ino...see?" Nanami panted, slamming himself into Ino's prone, twitching body. "Look at...at her now. Harder...deeper...faster. How does it feel...darling?"
"G-god-- o-oh my god-- so good so so good--augh--!"
The noises coming out of Ino were barely human, burned at both ends until his entire core was aflame. It took all of his strength simply to not crush you, and he found himself woefully out of control. He had only the vaguest, nebulous thought that his hips were being slammed into you with more force that he could ever generate himself...and you were crying his name in absolute bliss. Not begging him to stop. Not telling him it hurt. But, begging him for more, in desperate little babbles and whimpers.
Though Nanami's thrusts were brutal, they showed no sign of slowing. When he felt Ino's hole clenching around his cock, seeing the first signs of Ino's orgasm approaching, Nanami looped one thick forearm around Ino's neck, forcing Ino to arch up to him, and growling into Ino's ear.
"Not yet-- I don't think the lady's quite finished, is she? Don't be such a boy."
Ino sobbed into your neck, begging to be allowed completion, his voice went against your skin as Nanami denied him his orgasm for the sake of your own. Ino's sloppy mumbling was barely coherent, combining with Nanami's fractious grunts and curses to give you the orgasm soundtrack of your dreams.
"--s'too much-- so f-full, sorry--s-sorry, I didn't...feels so good...m'gonna come-- babe--"
Reaching around Ino to you, and pulling back for just a moment, Nanami scooped your ass and thighs up into a harsh mating press, with Ino crushed between you both. With Nanami's enormous hands pushing your knees to your chest, and Ino's sobbing, forced fucking into you, you were reduced to divine whimpering, your pussy beginning to clench around Ino's twitching length.
The heavy pressure of Ino's weight forced against your clit and his belly-deep thrusts, sent you tumbling over the edge fast. Finally, your orgasm had teeth, and the cries that left you were hoarse with bliss.
Unable to look at Ino, with his tearstained face still buried in your neck, you instead cried your pleasure to Nanami, your eyes glossy, your face twisted as if in pain. Seeing the way his pupils dilated, and the way his hips stuttered, made you certain you were milking Nanami's cock, instead of your boyfriend's.
You heard Nanami's satisfied whispers guiding you through, feeling him admiring the way years glittered on your lashes.
"--good girl...good girl, you knew...knew you could take it...clever girl..."
Ino followed you swiftly into oblivion, your plush fluttering walls dragging his orgasm as Nanami's cock against his prostate pushed it. Ino convulsed, a choking symphony of moans spilling over, unbidden. His legs kicked out against the bed, his hands clasping the sheets, while white-knuckled pleasure surged through him from head to toe.
You knew his seed would take time to trickle out of you tonight, so deeply seated was his ejaculation against your gulping cervix, that you wondered if any would make its way out of your cunt at all. Nanami was too far gone, husky, and still, somehow, chastising Ino through his pleasure.
"--listen...to your girl, and don't...don't come crying to me...if you can't satisfy her...don't deserve her if you don't listen to her...shit..."
Having done his duty, with commas of hair escaping over his forehead, Nanami buried himself to the hilt inside Ino and came with a hushed, broken roar. All the while that his teeth clenched, and his seed striped the inside of your boyfriend, you could have sworn that you felt the pulsing heat within you, instead.
Nanami groaned and murmured, his cock fucking slower, deeper, softer, his orgasm long and draining. You knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same again, knowing the voice of his pleasure.
Finally, Nanami stilled above Ino, groaning and giving Ino's hair one firm ruffle, before pulling out with a hiss. Nanami stood back on shaking legs, surveying the wreckage before him, sniffing and swiping one hand back through his hair.
Cleaning himself, Nanami nodded to you. Ino was too fucked-out and spent to even begin to communicate, and covered you like a weighted blanket, filled with Nanami's cum, while his own filled you.
"Any problems," Nanami toned, calm and collected once more, "come to me."
"Y-yeah." You panted, crushed beneath Ino's whimpering weight. "I'll...Ill take it...from here."
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lithepetal · 15 hours
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Second Chance Chapter 18
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC
Summary: Aurora and Bucky navigate the pitfalls of their trauma.
Warnings: joint therapy session, mother-daughter moment
Series Masterlist
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“You will bring her back?”
Tony followed the two women out of the Compound, to where the unmarked vehicle was parked. Her mother’s chauffeur opened the back passenger door, letting in Aurora. They were going to Fifth Avenue to do last-minute Christmas shopping.
Aphrodite waved dismissively. “Yes, Tony, you don’t have to worry. If I had my way, we’d be spending Christmas in Paris,” she grumbled.
“Aurora, honey, if she tries to kidnap you, call me.”
His poor choice of words notwithstanding, Aurora smiled. “I will, Dad.”
“Mortals are… strangely possessive creatures,” her mother noted, sliding into the backseat with Aurora. “I suppose given their short lifespans, it makes sense. Your father means well, I’ll give him that.”
Little by little, Aurora pieced things together, like why her mother waited almost twenty years to return—to Aphrodite, the time probably passed in the blink of an eye. And why not Tony Stark? He was a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. If any mortal man could woo the goddess of love, it’d be him. He was this millennia’s Adonis.
“Will I live longer than…” Aurora’s brow wrinkled. Humans? She still considered herself one.
“Oh, yes.”
Aurora slumped against the seat and gazed out the window at the snow-covered landscape. She didn’t press for details; the anxiety of imagining how many people would come and go in her lifetime already started to take root. “Why did you leave? Is it like Percy Jackson, or Hercules? Half-mortal children stay with the mortal parent?”
“Would you be disappointed if I said ‘yes’?” her mother asked. “It is simply the way things are. Mythology does get some things correct.”
Realizing the dismal turn of the conversation, Aurora, single-mindedly determined to enjoy the rest of their outing, altered course. “Do I really have powers?”
“Need I remind you of the impossible feats you’ve accomplished? Remember what I said: once you believe in yourself, they will emerge.”
With that, Christmas came and went, as did Aphrodite, whose lingering presence eventually faded. The seasonal bleakness returned. By the second week, Aurora could no longer ignore the impact Bucky’s absence had on her, cementing her own worst thoughts about herself.
~ * ~
The morning before New Year’s Eve, Aurora awoke to a text message from her therapist. Rescheduled for an hour earlier, Bucky’s usual time, she assumed that meant he cancelled. At breakfast, she expressed her concern to Natasha.
“You’re a demigoddess, babushka, and the daughter of a billionaire,” Natasha intoned. “You could have anyone. Why are you so hung up on Barnes?”
“I love him.” And for the daughter of Aphrodite, it was a simple enough explanation that gave even Black Widow pause.
Bundled in layers of fleece and a woolen jacket, Aurora crossed the grounds. Entering the building, she didn’t bother knocking before walking inside her therapist’s office. She stopped suddenly upon seeing Bucky. “Oh, sorry, I—”
“Aurora, you’re right on time,” Dr. Stahl greeted. “Please, have a seat.” So, this is why her appointment was rescheduled, and by the dour expression on Bucky’s face, he didn’t know it was going to be a joint session, either. Begrudgingly, she shut the door and plopped down in the chair next to his. “I want to preface this by saying I am not a relationship counselor, but this comes at the behest of your loved ones who want to see the two of you happy. Now, what happened?”
“He ran.”
“I was just taking a page outta your playbook.”
Aurora narrowed her eyes. “That was different. I was trying to protect you.”
“So am I!” Bucky shot back.
“You know, it isn’t a good sign that we’re already seeing a counselor.”
Bucky couldn’t help the grin that tugged on his lips; her sass on full display for him to witness first-hand.
“Why don’t we begin there?” Dr. Stahl suggested. “Aurora, you told me that you avoided Bucky for an entire week—”
“He’s been avoiding me for two!” Aurora exclaimed.
“Let me finish,” Dr. Stahl said calmly. “You claim you wanted to protect Bucky, but, Aurora, the Winter Soldier didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he comforted you after Rumlow’s assault. What did you want to protect Bucky from—himself, or the truth? You do know that what Rumlow did to you wasn’t your fault, right?”
Discomfort squeezed her stomach and chest, pooling tears in her eyes. She didn’t want to discuss it in front of Bucky, even though she knew Dr. Stahl was right. “We aren’t here to talk about him.”
“It’s been two years, Aurora. Will you say his name?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? You give him power over you by not saying his name.”
“Quoting Hermione Granger, now?” Scoffing, Aurora got up and stomped toward the door.
“Doll, wait…”
Aurora closed her eyes, knuckles turning white by the force of her grip on the doorknob. His husky-soft timbre smoothed over the jagged pangs in her heart. Bucky gently pried her hand from the doorknob, rubbing his thumb over knuckles. Pacified by the gesture, she looked up at him.
“Rumlow can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him. You’re…” he nearly choked on the words, realization dawning on him, dispersing all fear to the contrary, “safe.” While Aurora’s deepest fear was Rumlow, Bucky’s was himself. “I will keep you safe.”
“Y-You can’t make that promise, Bucky.” Shaking her head, Aurora slipped her hand free and walked out.
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jadeandroses · 2 days
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Prompt by @hercarisntyours (which. Okay. I didn’t follow it to the letter. I hope that’s okay 👉👈)
the only way to bring me down
(Ao3 version)
(Warning: TF One spoilers ahead!)
If you had asked her before this exact moment, Elita would have said there wasn’t a reckless circuit in her body. She was focused. Her programming pushed her toward success, not risks and the potential of failure. She certainly wasn’t to the point of that one subordinate of hers, constantly breaking into archives and trying to saved trapped coworkers…
…and yet.
It took something to jump after him. Gall, perhaps? An undeniable sense of recklessness she hadn’t let herself explore, before? A sudden flare in her spark, whatever emotion it was that fueled the scream she let echo as she saw him shot?
Whatever it was, it didn’t matter much anymore—she was plummeting after him, and that was that.
(Bee’s scream as she jumped would forever echo in her audials.)
She thought they would have hit ground a long time ago. But that was far from the case—where the hard floor would have claimed her spark and whatever was left of his, it now disappeared out from under them. Arcs of energy—electric, buzzing under the ground—came narrowly close to them, and yet, not a one struck. But they were a source of light, for which she would have been grateful, if it weren’t for the fact that every single one illuminated Orion as he turned more and more gray.
Her eyes—and never you mind if they welled over—narrowed, and she lowered herself into a nosedive.
Her head made contact before her arms did. Without quick reflexes, he might have been thrown away from her, but she reached out, faster than any arc of lightning, and pulled him closer.
The wound burned under her touch, but his frame had already gone cold. Even his eyes—so full of light and wonder, even in the darkness of the mines—had gone out.
“You just had to make me believe,” she seethed, “didn’t you?”
The quick wit she had grown to despise was gone, and his lifeless frame didn’t answer. She pulled him into an embrace, just so that she didn’t have to look at his empty, sparkless eyes.
“I said you would bring us hope,” she wept, “not this! Orion, my god, he wasn’t worth it! Why did you have to be so-”
She choked on a sob, and instead howled her grief into the ground below. Her scream echoed, and thankfully, it masked the sounds of her tears.
She hadn’t cried in ages. Not since she was very, very young. It was a sign of weakness, in the mines. Elita needed to be strong, if she was to survive.
She was strong, yes, and she had carved a path for herself. But then Orion came into her life and ruined it all, and stars, she loathed him for it.
…but stars, it had been lonely without his passionate ramblings and bad flirting. It took a journey to the surface to realize just how much she had missed it.
(Maybe that was just constant exposure to Bee’s ceaseless chatter.)
…had she cried like this, when her cog was carved out as a newborn? Or had she been silent, voiceless and scared, like she had been every day of her life after that before Orion came and ruined it?
He had given her a priceless gift—her freedom. Her voice. Her autonomy. Maybe this choice had tossed back it in his lifeless face.
But she didn’t care. He had made his choice. She didn’t have to take it lying down.
And if she had to go back to relying only on herself, to being the only person in this universe she could count on or believe in…
…well. Whether her spark was snuffed out alongside his, or it flickered out trapped and endlessly alone in the dark of the mines, she would die one way or the other.
At least this way, it was her choice.
~~~~
He was gone.
He was gone, but her spark was still lit—that much she knew. That much, she could feel, deep within her chest, as it flickered right next to the cog of Alchemist Prime.
(The one renowned for his mind. Had she been thinking about it, when she received it, she would have preened.)
But the realization that holy Primus, she wasn’t dead wasn’t quite enough to distract her from the fact that Orion—her stubborn, endlessly optimistic moron of a former employee—was gone. In fact, even his corpse was missing from her arms.
She tensed. She straightened out her legs to stand—only to find no ground under her feet.
And, in front of her, painted in endless shades of stars and blue, backs of figures she only vaguely recognized.
If she had been staring at anything else, she might have looked at the blue sun in front of her, the figures of starlight in front of her, and put two and two together. But there was one in gray, whose back she had stared at as she charged into the unknown.
And suddenly her aching spark lurched.
“Orion!”
There was absolutely no response from anyone. She strained to see better, and, despite his lifeless state, he was glowing.
“What are you doing to him?!”
Still no response.
It was at this point Elita grit her teeth, and began to force her way past the ancient Primes like a barbarian. It didn’t occur to her at all what she was doing. All that mattered was that she get to him.
They resisted her. Even held their arms out to stop her. She thrashed, and even climbed one to see better.
“Stop! Please! He’s my friend! Don’t hurt him!”
As if the dead could feel pain. It was ridiculous. She didn’t even care.
On some unseen signal, though, they parted. No sooner did Elita find her footing did she once again find herself under the intense gaze of Alpha Trion.
It was like the world stopped. Orion—still lifeless, yet lit up like his spark hadn’t been extinguished in the first place—still had his back to her. And yet Alpha Trion stood in front of them both, lit up in starlight.
“Loyal to the very end,” he whispered.
It was reverential. It was almost a question. Even in the face of such might, she stood tall.
“That stubborn little optimist is the only person I’ve ever truly believed in,” she spat. “Of course I followed him!”
She wondered if she should have phrased that differently. That being said, it was the truth, and it hurt—but oh, she couldn’t take it back now. Where once her path had been hers and hers alone, it was one someone had chosen for her. Now, she had a choice—and she wanted nothing more than to stand by him. To help him, in his mission, no matter how stupid or now noble.
Especially now that D had…
It was difficult to say exactly what crossed Alpha Trion’s face. He rumbled approvingly, though.
“We Primes had a High Guard, once. Ones to advise us and to protect us. But more importantly, they were our friends.” Hand on Orion’s shoulder, he continued to speak. “It is a shame that we cannot give such luxuries to him. Instead, he will have you, loyal daughter of Cybertron, to protect him as we cannot.”
Her own frame began to glow, now. Not quite as bright as Orion’s, but almost. There was power coursing through her, filling her every circuit.
(…if she was tasting a fraction of what was coursing through him, she had the distinct feeling she wasn’t quite staring at Orion, anymore.)
“You are one of a kind, dear. Truly, you have earned your name,” he murmured kindly. “And as for our young one, here, I rather like what she said for his name, don’t you, my brethren?”
There was rumbling approval all around her. She was afraid to ask. But she swallowed it.
“…what?”
He turned starlit eyes on her friend, and smiled.
“Arise, Optimus Prime!”
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starrystevie · 2 years
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eddie who's read enough skin mags to know what he thinks he's going to like whenever he can finally find someone to hook up with. who's watched enough badly filmed bdsm flicks from that shady video store behind standard gas on moore street to put a black hanky in his back left pocket. who's looked through enough zines from that queer store he found when he visited chicago and bought as much material as he could fit in his backpack.
steve who's very recently found out that there's extra space in his heart and mind for pretty guys next to pretty girls and has no clue how to find a guy who would be interested back. who's trying to figure out what he would even want to do with a guy in the bedroom so he goes to some shady store on moore that's supposed to have pornos behind a black curtain, solely for research purposes, of course. who's reading queer magazines for the advice columns to learn how to pick up clues when flirting with men only to delve into a world of hankies and safe words.
eddie proudly wearing his black hanky everyday and almost choking on his coca cola when steve says he knows what it is one night at dinner. eddie actually choking on a french fry when steve tells him he goes both ways like bowie or freddie with a shy but somewhat proud grin on his face. eddie grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the diner booth to head back to the trailer when steve suggests they put their burgeoning interests together for a night to see if they like it.
steve liking getting slapped on the thigh in eddie's bed, watching the blood rush to the surface in handprint, something primal liking that it's eddie's. steve really liking eddie pushing him to his knees and hearing his bones hit the hard floor, feeling the carpet burning his skin. steve loathing the way eddie whispers in a broken voice, "sorry, shit" as his big brown eyes fill up with tears when he sees how wrecked steve's pretty skin ends up being and ends up turning away from the sight.
both of them learning together what boundaries they have, moving from friends exploring things that they didn't know they'd ever get to explore, to something more. spending hours, days, weeks holed up in steve's empty house as they find out how many rooms they can push their limits in, laughs and whimpers and skin on skin echoing off the walls. falling in love with bruises and teary eyes and they way they make each other feel but most importantly, falling in love with the other person along the way.
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lowkeyremi · 8 months
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JJK MEN AS DADS
How they are with their kiddos/babies ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami
content: no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families.
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Gojo Satoru
"Look at my little boy, he looks just like me, what a heart stopper you'll be when you get older!" He praises his two year old, Kenji Gojo.
"'Toru stop trying to manifest our son into a hoe." Satoru turns to you with a loud gasp, eyes wide, and it causes your little boy to giggle.
"How could you say such words, in front of him? Don't listen to Mommy. Daddy was never a player. Never ever!" Kenji has no clue what's happening he just laughs at his father's dramatics.
"Oh brother, I hope he doesn't turn into a drama queen like you. And yes you were a player before I got with you. Remember when you kissed my friend then like ten minutes later tried to kiss me?" Satoru was a menace in college. Every time you bring up that specific college memory he always says-
"Ugh, blame Suguru! He was the one who made me take shots when I didn't like to drink." There it is. That was excuse for two-timing you and your best friend back then.
"Save it for someone who believes you. Kenji, don't be like Daddy when you grow up, okay?" Your husband knows you're joking but he can't help but whine and feel like you're being against him.
"Otay Mommy! Daddy is hoeeee. Hoe hoe hoe. Merry Christmas!" Your poor little boy thinks he's saying the noise Santa makes instead of a derogatory term and it's hilarious.
Of course you encourage him, "Daddy's a what?"
"Hoe!" Kenji screams out with a smile on his face. Satoru frowns loosing his playfulness.
"I-i guess my family just hates me... no one loves me." He sighs loudly to sell it to you guys but you don't buy it. He sits in the corner pretending to cry. "Boo hoo..." Kenji waddles his way over to his father patting his head.
"No cry Daddy, you not a hoe. You Daddy." Satoru fakes a loud gasp when he hears his son comfort him, thinking Satoru is actually crying.
"Really?!" He asks the little boy standing next to him.
"Yeah, Daddy is cool!!" Satoru chuckles, picks up is little boy and tosses him into the air. The small white haired child screams in delight as his father catches him, and you can't deny that all the trouble you and Satoru had in your relationship was worth seeing this.
Geto Suguru
"And then, the monster ate the twin girls who didn't go to sleep at their bed time-"
"Ooooookay. I think that's enough bed time stories from Papa." You say ushering your girls to bed, Hana looks scared out of her mind but Kana's eyes are sparkling with curiosity.
"Awww, Mommy, it was just getting good!" Kana whines, you know she wants to hear whatever else Suguru makes up on spot but he scared Hana who looks like she wants to cry.
"I know sweetie, but I don't think Hana really liked that story." The girls are six and full of energy at any given time.
"Come on baby, let me tell Kana the rest." Suguru matches his daughter's tone, knowing you'll give in.
"Alright, fine, but you need to apologize to Hana, look at her." Your husband looks at his younger twin daughter and he does feel kind of bad for scaring her like that. Suguru likes telling scary stories and myths to his girls just like his father had done to him. He always thought they were super cool.
"Oh, Hana, sweet girl. Papa's sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. How about I tell you and your sister a different story?" Hana looks a little doubtful as do you, but Suguru grants you a smile. He knows you trust him so you give him a stern look before kissing his forehead.
"Don't take too long, I need my cuddles." He smirks, kissing your hand, "Of course my dear."
The twins coo in unison at their parents romantic gestures, they think it's the coolest thing ever. "You girls have your stuffed animals?" He asks them and they nod together waiting for his story.
He tells the two about a princess who needed saving. Her long lost sister came to save her from a scary dragon and they lived happily together.
"That sounds like me and Hana!! I fought the scary dragon and Hana was the princess!!!" Kana says with excitement. Sometimes Suguru sees two little girls he used to foster in his own girls. He wonders how they're doing these days. They're probably grown up by now or at least in their late teens.
"I really wish Mommy had let me name you guys Nanako and Mimiko." He whispers with a soft smile. Kana looks at him in confusion rubbing her tired eyes, Hana's already asleep.
"Huh?" Kana asks.
"Nothing my dear, good night, little one." He tucks her into bed and gives her a tend kiss on the forehead.
"Night night, Papa." She says with a yawn and Suguru makes his way downstairs to join you.
Kamo Choso
Choso bites his lip looking down at his son, the boy looks a lot like you he thinks. Ryuji is his name, you let him name him. "I didn't mean to break it." He whines to his father. Choso has a soft spot for his boy. He reminds him a lot of his little brother Yuji.
"I know bud, but what will we tell Mom when she gets home?" Ryuji had accidentally broken your favorite ceramic mug. Choso was not sure what he signed up for when he got you pregnant but it sure wasn't this.
He and his son were always getting scolded by you. Every time Ryuji gets into some kind of trouble it also happens to be Choso's fault for not watching him closely as you always say. The truth is, Ryuji seems to get into trouble even with his father watching him closely.
"Um... we can tell her it was at the edge of the counter and i walked past it and it fell down. Then it will be her fault for leaving it by the edge." Choso smiles at his devious ten year old. He knows lying is bad but if you heard what really happened you'd scold both of them.
What actually happened as that Ryuji was playing in the kitchen, even though you've warned him against it many times and he knocked your mug down onto the ground.
"Good idea, kid. I don't want to hear Mom yelling again. I might get couch treatment again." Choso shivers at the idea of sleeping on the cramped couch rather than in his warm bed with you.
"You remind me a lot of your Uncle Yuji." Choso says ruffling his son's hair. "You and Mom keep saying that and I don't know if that's good or bad."
"It depends. Yuji can be both." Choso chuckles. His son gives him a crushing hug.
"I love you dad, you're doing great." And Choso didn't know how much he needed to hear those words but they were getting to him.
Fushiguro Toji
"Quit kicking your Ma, ya little brat." He threatens your swelling belly. He gives you a questioning look when you glare at him. Those emerald eyes challenge yours in a staring contest.
"What is with you and threatening our unborn children?" Your question is followed by a giggle.
"Gotta let the brats know who's in charge." He blows out a breath and puffs his chest, you find the whole ordeal ridiculous. The man is a girl dad for crying out loud. Even his oldest, your step-son thinks his father is a clown. And before Tsumiki died there were three daughters in his life.
He thinks your third one is bound to be a boy, but you're secretly hoping for a girl just to further sink Toji's idea of having a little boy to boss around. Megumi comes around maybe twice a month to see his little half-sisters, which means Toji is surrounded by girls all the time.
You like to joke around with him and say, "What do you know? Girls seem to follow you wherever you go." He always grumbles about it being stupid and unfair.
"As I was saying-"
"DAD!!!!! MY HAIR OH NOOOOOOO." Toji's up off the couch in seconds answering at his daughter's beck and call.
He walks into her room to see her braid was messed up. "What happened, Doll?" He asks her, undoing the braid so he can redo it.
"Yui undid my braid!! She took my hair tie and ran to her room!!!" She squeals, in horror at her little sister's thieving.
"Oh did she now? I'll go have a talk with her once I braid this back up." He's gentle with his tender-headed daughter. He quickly braids her hair back up, the pattern memorized. 100% self indulgent bc im tender headed.
"I have this green hair tie, is that okay, sweet girl?" She sighs quietly. "Where are the blue ones?" Toji clicks his tongue. "I can go get one real quick if you hold the end of this braid." He tells her and she's quick to do it. Her favorite color is blue after all.
She cheers when her father returns with a blue hair tie. He ties it up quickly, "Okay let me go talk to Yui." Nami nods brushing out her baby doll's hair.
Toji makes an appearance in front of his four year old's door, she's making her dolls scream at each other. "What was da reason?!!!!" She screams pretending to be one of the dolls, "I had a reason." She makes the other say.
Toji rolls his eyes, his daughter has been watching too much TV with you. "Excuse me miss Cardi B, why did you steal your sister's hair tie?" His hands are on his hips and his eyes are squinted to add to his authority.
"Whattttt, Dad, you know dat?" She asks as if her dad lives under a rock.
"Tch I'm not old, I know what memes are. Now answer the question." She rolls her eyes. You tell Toji she gets her attitude from him.
"If you haf to know I needed it, so I could give Sprinkles a ponytail." Sprinkles is the dog Toji said he was NOT going to get for his girls but caved in and got anyway.
"Ya coulda asked me or your Ma for one rather than stealing it right from your sister's hair." She shakes her head in disagreement. Toji wonders what's going on in her head right now.
"Dad you don't get it! It had to be that one!"
"Why that specific hair tie?" She goes silent turning away from her father and mumbling something Toji can barely hear.
"Speak up, princess." She scoffs and sighs and folds her arms. Wow the sass is unreal.
"Sprinkle thinks Nami is super cool so she wants what Nami has." Toji isn't stupid he knows his daughter is using the dog as a place holder for how she admires her older sister. Yui doesn't like to admit it though.
"Are you sure it's Sprinkle who thinks Nami is super cool?" He gives her the chance to be open with him and she sighs taking the bait.
"I guess. I think Nami is super cool." She murmurs and Toji smirks.
"It's alright to think your sis is cool, Dad didn't get to grow up with any cool siblings. Just annoying cousins."
"Mai and Maki are cooler than you, Dad, not annoying!" The man in question raises his brow his smirk never leaving, "Okay since I'm not cool. I guess I won't take you out for treats anymore when Ma says no."
Little Yui gasps, bursting upward like a rocket and running toward her dad. She hugs his leg, her little head looking up at him, "I was kidding Dad. You're super cool. Please don't stop taking me for treats!!"
Toji smiles, picks up his little girl and tickles her. She screams out for him to stop, "Huh? I can't hear what you're saying."
"Nami help!!!!"
In seconds Nami's attacking her father in a playful manner, "Let go of my sister!!"
"Okay then." Toji holds his daughter upside down by her feet, as she screams some more. "MA!!! HELPPP!!!!"
"Toji put her down." You say in a half-hearted manner.
"She is down. Upside down."
Nanami Kento
"See, you're getting the hang of it, Hiro." Kento softly encourages his son who's struggling with his math homework. You had tried to help him but he screamed that what you were saying didn't make sense. So of course you yelled back, letting your emotions get the better of you.
Kento had stepped in to keep you two from ripping each other's heads off. Plus all that screaming had woken up the baby. You could hear her crying.
That was about an hour ago. You quietly walked into the dining room with your seven month old baby girl cuddled up to your chest as you held her tight.
The sight of your husband helping your son warmed your heart, but you also felt guilt hot in your stomach for yelling at him, he's only twelve.
"Hey, Hiro. Can I talk to you, hon?" You ask softly. Both your son and Kento turn their heads upon hearing your voice. He nods at you and you inhale deeply, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, bud, I didn't mean it."
His eyes soften as do Kento's.
"I'm sorry too, Mom. I started it. You were just trying to help me." Kento's smile encourages you to walk closer to the table which you do.
"We should have had Dad come help in the first place, huh? I'm not good at explaining." Hiro shares a laugh with you, and Kento cups your cheek.
"Explanations might not be your strong suit but you're still a good mother, baby." Hiro gags at his father calling you "baby" he hate when you two get sappy.
You move your head a little so you can kiss his palm. As expected Hiro covers his eyes and making more throwing up noises.
"Oh hush, one day you'll find someone for you, and you'll be just like me and your mother." Kento says rolling his eyes and you giggle. Even though you guys have your differences you guys always forgive each other at the end of the day.
Your little girl coos quietly and Kento holds out his arms gesturing for his little girl.
"She's just had dinner, so she might fall asleep on you." Your warning doesn't bother him at all, if anything, you'll probably have more pictures to add to your baby gallery on your phone if she falls asleep in his arms.
She's already a dad's girl and she's only seven months old. You thought maybe Hiro would be a mama's boy but he's definitely his daddy's son.
You don't mind though, well, sometimes you're a little jealous that you have to share your man with your kids. Kento's a very lovable man though, so you can't blame them.
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lynxgriffin · 24 days
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Eldritchrune - A Messy Fight
Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost
On their way to face Queen, Kris and the Fun Gang run into Tasque Manager, who demands impossible standards of order. Her criticisms might feel a little too familiar to Kris...but at least the rest of the Fun Gang have their back!
YAY, it's nice to finally get another comic all finished! This one obviously had to go on hold for awhile from my wrist injury. While I'm working on recovering, things are still going to be slow for awhile (probably the rest of the year), so it may be another wait before the next scene.
Alt text for these pages under the read more:
Page 1
Panel 1 - Kris, Ralsei, Susie and Noelle walk down a long, uniform stone hallway. Eyeless porcelain gargoyles shaped like big cats stand watch from atop pillars in the hallway. As they walk, Ralsei says, “We’re getting closer to Queen’s chambers. Stay on the alert, Kris!”
Panel 2 - Kris responds with a quick “I am.” As the Fun Gang continues down the hallway, one of the porcelain gargoyles turns its head to follow them.
Panel 3 - Im a medium shot, Lancer pops up from within Susie’s hair, and waves at Kris. He says, “Hey human person, is it hard to stay alert with all that hair in your eyes?” Susie grins, and sticks out her tongue in joking agreement. “Yeah, it’s gettin’ even messier.” Unbeknownst to the Fun Gang, in the background, one of the gargoyles starts to climb down the pillar.
Panel 4 - Closeup on Kris as they brush their long and messy hair out of their face. “I can see just fine,” they respond.
Panel 5 - Two of the gargoyles land on the ground, the panel’s focus on their clawed paws tapping against the stones.
Page 2 Panel 1 - Noelle turns her head, one ear perked up to listen to what’s behind them. She says, “Wait. I hear something…”
Panel 2 - Closeup on the clawed paws of the gargoyles as they charge forward.
Panel 3 - Closeup on Kris as they turn at the sound, reaching for their sword.
Panel 4 - Wide shot of the Fun Gang. They suddenly find themselves surrounded on all sides by four porcelain big cats, all snarling as they circle them. Susie glares back.
Panel 5 - Susie turns back to Lancer, still poking out of her hair. She says, “Uugh, more jerks! Better hide again.” Lancer responds with a disappointed “Aw man…” but does as he’s asked.
Panel 6 - “What are these things?” Kris asks, eyeing a gargoyle circling them, and keeping one hand on their sword hilt. “They’re tasques!” replies Ralsei.
Page 3
Panel 1 - Ralsei turns expectantly, looking ahead. “That means that their *manager* must be near…”
Panel 2 - Closeup on an armored boot as it steps into the middle of the hall. 
Panel 3 - The boot belongs to Tasque Manager. She appears as an armored knight with impeccably polished plate armor, decorated with sharp V-shaped emblems. She appears human in stature, except for her head, which is the bleached skull of a big cat, and with pointed ears. She wields a flail with seven spiked spheres on the end of a collection of cords. She holds up her hand, and says, “Halt, interlopers! I will not permit you to approach the Queen!”
Panel 4 - The Fun Gang remain surrounded by the gargoyles, but Kris still looks ready to fight. Susie sneers at Tasque Manager, and says, “Since when do we need *your* permission?” She responds, “I maintain *order* and *cleanliness* in this dwelling.”
Panel 5 - Straight on shot of Tasque Manager’s face, emphasizing her symmetry and sense of order. “Do you truly think you are worthy…of Queen’s presence in your disorderly state?”
Page 4
Panel 1 - Full shot of the Fun Gang just staring back. They all look pretty haggard, unkempt and gross in their own ways.
Panel 2 - Same shot as previous, although now Noelle tilts her head to the side. “Um…yes?” she offers quietly.
Ralsei helpfully gestures to Kris beside him. “Certainly! Kris even bathed just two weeks ago.”
Panel 3 - Tasque Manager is not having it, and yells back at the group: “LIES!! I can see the *filth* all over you, human! I can smell your STENCH!”
Panel 4 - She continues, “You’re unfit for these halls…you belong in the wastes that you reek of!” The insults are especially focused on Kris.
Panel 5 - Kris shuts their eyes, remembering something from their past…
Panel 6 - A series of flashback images, to when Kris was just a little kid, living as an orphan on the streets. They try to sneak around the back of a food stand in the market, looking for something to eat, when they’re spotted by an empire soldier in armor.
The soldier yanks them up roughly by the shirt and yells in their face: “What’re you doing around here, you filthy urchin?! This is a *nice* place!”
The soldier then throws Kris down into the gutter, splashing street water all over them. “Go stink up a gutter where you belong!” the soldier screams. 
Page 5
Panel 1 - Kris opens their eyes again, grimacing. This is clearly an unpleasant memory for them.
Panel 2 - They pull out their sword, and point it towards Tasque Manager. “Maybe my stench will give your dull and tasteless halls some character,” they say.
Panel 3 - Extreme close up on Tasque Manager’s unnaturally sharp teeth. “Human…”
Panel 4 - “I’ll flay your filthy skin from your bones!” she shrieks, and pulls the flail tight in front of her, ready to fight.
Panel 5 - Ralsei immediately teleports out of the range of battle with a burst of flame and smoke. Kris and the beasts eye the gargoyles as they begin to close in on them.
Panel 6 - “Susie! Noelle!” Kris begins the fight by giving them the ACT command. 
Panel 7 - Closeup on Noelle as she opens her mouth and uses her icy breath attack, aiming at one of the gargoyles.
Pavel 8 - However, the gargoyle runs just out of range of the incoming frost, and sprints towards Susie’s unprotected right side.
Page 6
Panel 1 - Closeup as the gargoyle leaps onto Susie and sinks its large teeth into her side, latching on like a lamprey eel. 
Panel 2 - Susie roars in pain and anger at the gargoyle, even as another one coming in from her left bites down into an empty space on her chest.
Panel 3 - Wide shot as the beasts struggle to shake off the gargoyles, but they’re too hard to reach. One more bites into Noelle’s flank, while the last circles, looking for another opening. In the foreground, Kris faces Tasque Manager in one on one combat.
Panel 4 - Kris, being less skilled at swordfighting, only manages to block incoming hits from the flail. All the while, Tasque Manager yells at them: “You humans are so *irrational! Unorderly!*” 
Panel 5 - Tasque Manager flings the flail at Kris’s face as she continues: “Wretched, chaotic creatures…it’s horrid how the gods and demons here desire your souls!”
Panel 6 - Kris remains face to face with Tasque Manager, the flail partially wrapped around their sword…way too close to their face. Still, they are curious about her statement. “Horrid? Never come across a human soul pure enough for you?” they ask.
Page 7
Panel 1 - Tasque Manager leans in to grab the flail, as Kris struggles to keep appropriate space between them. “Never. There is no such thing as a pure human soul,” she replies. 
Panel 2 - Noelle runs in a circle with the gargoyle still attached to her flank. Behind her, Susie lashes her tail angrily, trying to shake off the two biting into her own hide.
Panel 3 - In a fit of desperation, Susie finally rolls onto her side, trying to crush the gargoyle against the stone floor. A sound like breaking glass is heard.
Panel 4 - When she raises up again, the gargoyle is now in shattered porcelain pieces on the floor, although it did leave a nasty wound behind.
Panel 5 - Noelle turns her head, noticing the shattered remains. “Oh, Susie! They break like stone!”
Panel 6 - Susie also takes note of the shattered gargoyle, and gets an idea.
Panel 7 - Thinking fast, she goes and snaps her jaws around the gargoyle on Noelle’s flank, and tears it free.
Panel 8 - Still with one more gargoyle hanging from her neck, she swings her head around in a wide arc and tosses the gargoyle in her jaws at the far wall.
Page 8
Panel 1 - The gargoyle hits a pillar by the far wall, and shatters like porcelain.
Panel 2 - Tasque Manager is momentarily drawn away from Kris as she notices her shattered minions’ remains cluttering up the pristine floor. She shakes with rage. “You’re all making…”
Panel 3 - “SUCH A HORRIBLE MESS!” she screams, and rears back to attack Kris with her flail again.
Panels 4-5 - Kris is momentarily struck by another memory, and they wince in anticipation.
Panel 6 - In a flashback scene. Kris has somehow knocked over a cart full of fruits, and they lay scattered across the cobblestones, broken and smashed. An angry vendor stands nearby. 
Meanwhile, another empire soldier is already there, and grabs Kris by the hair. “LOOK AT THIS MESS YOU’VE MADE!” he screams, shaking Kris. 
Panel 7 - Tasque Manager charges forward, the flail coming in fast at Kris…
Panel 8 - And hits home, striking the, in the head, above their eye. Blood bursts from the head wound.
Page 9
Panel 1 - “KRIS!!” Closeup on Ralsei as he yells in alarm, his eyes wide.
Panel 2 - Kris staggers backward, shaking, and pressing their left hand to their temple.
Panel 3 - Closeup as Kris pulls their hand away, and finds it covered in blood.
Panel 4 -  Meanwhile, Susie rolls onto her chest again, crushing the gargoyle on her neck against the floor. It crunches into pieces like the others.
Panel 5 - In the background, Susie gets up and brushes the remaining shards off her neck. In the foreground, Noelle stomps the remaining gargoyle into pieces with her hooves.
Panel 6 - Kris turns and looks up at Tasque Manager. She raises her flail to strike once again. 
Panel 7 - Despite the fact that Kris is bleeding considerably from the head wound, they smile with realization, and charge in towards Tasque Manager. “The best part about human messes…”
Panel 8 - Tasque Manager takes a wide swing with her flail, but Kris swiftly ducks under it, and slides in close to her. 
Page 10
Panel 1 - Kris finishes, “Is that you can *always* make them worse!” Kris leaps up in front of Tasque Manager, and smears the blood on their hand across her polished breastplate. 
Panel 2 - Tasque Manager pulls back and shrieks in horror at the bloody stain on her armor, both arms raised.
Panel 3 - Kris pulls back, their head still bleeding, and points decisively at Tasque Manager. Noelle and Susie are standing ready behind them, and they give the [FIGHT] command.
Panel 4 - Tasque Manager tries in vain to wipe the blood off her armor, temporarily distracted…
Panel 5 - Which is enough time for Susie to come in from above and snap her jaws around Tasque Manager. She screams, and drops her flail.
Panel 6 - In a wider shot, Kris and Noelle look on as Noelle violently shakes her head with Tasque Manager in her jaws, like a dog shaking a chew toy. Pieces of her armor fly out as she’s tossed back and forth.
Page 11
Panel 1 - Finished with her attack, Susie spits out Tasque Manager, now a complete disassembled mess of armor and bone. Her pieces scatter across the stone floor.
Panel 2 - Noelle opens her mouth wide, and uses her frost breath again…
Panel 3 - …And her icy breath freezes the scattered pieces to the floor, leaving no chance of an easy reforming. Kris watches as the cat skull head skids free of the rest of the mess…
Panel 4 - And slides to a stop by their feet. Although broken up and frozen, Tasque Manager’s severed head can still speak, albeit weakly. “So disordered…scattered…filthy…”
Panel 5 - Low angle shot at the skull glares up at Kris with contempt. Kris has won, but she still has last insults to get in: “No wonder…you were discarded…”
Panel 6 - Kris closes their eyes again, another flashback coming back…
Panel 7 - Another series of flashback images to a younger, orphan Kris. They’re hiding in a pile of trash behind some boxes, shivering, terrified of encountering another soldier. Someone else can be seen approaching.
“Hey…” Kris looks up from their hiding position at the sound of a calmer voice. They see a hand being extended to them.
The hand belongs to a younger Asriel, reaching down to help them up. “Are you okay?” he asks.
Page 12 Panel 1 - Back in the present, Ralsei approaches Kris again, putting a reassuring hand on their shoulder. He smiles down at them. “Well done, Kris! We’re that much closer to Queen now.”
Panel 2 - Higher shot as the Fun Gang begins to regroup ans start back down the hall again. Susie leans back towards the frozen and broken Tasque Manager with a taunt: “Good luck cleaning *that* up, you stupid snob!”
Panel 3 - Lancer pops back out of Susie’s hair, one hand raised to his head to look around. “Did we win?” he asks.
“Obviously!” Susie replies with a grin.
Panel 4 - Lancer turns to Kris, who is walking at the head of the party. “Wow! I guess you really *can* see through that string bean hair!” Kris is still injured and messy, but doesn’t seem to mind. “Well enough.”
Panel 5 - A shot from behind the Fun Gang as they continue down the dark hall, heading towards the Queen. Behind them lies a giant mess of shattered porcelain, frozen armor pieces and broken bones. “You know…” Kris says, “I think I will let it grow wild and ugly for the foreseeable future.”
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morphids · 3 months
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break up with your boyfriend, ellie williams
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pairing: bestfriend!ellie x afab, curly haired,bi!reader (college au)
chapter: one shot (8k words whoops my finger slipped got my asd diagnosis today lol ig that explains that) proofread but if there's errors idk what to tell u
warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+ so minors dni, subish!ellie, loserlesbian ellie, poc friendly!! drug mentions, marijuana usage, friends to lovers, angst?? ellie gets her coochie ate, so does reader, fingering, ✂️✂️, all that good stuff, they essentially worship each other, cheating (not by reader but sus behaviours n thoughts fs) (tw::: men bf’s a dickspawn imsorry) homophobia.
summary: you have a horrible boyfriend, ellie’s always hated him. 
a/n: full word vomit im sorry if its ass but also i kinda lost my composure writing this 🤭🫣😵‍💫
AS ALWAYS FUCK DRUCKMANN AND ALL ZIONISTS, resources for Palestine and the daily click linked on my pinned post!
**
You were tired, drained. Hours had passed and you and your boyfriend were still at it. Angry words and misunderstood sentences all throughout the day had resulted in yet another fight between you.
"Dean, I've said it so many times, I can't go through it again,"
Dean, your boyfriend of a few months had a rocky track record, from keeping in close contact with his ex, to not telling interested girls that he's not single. The situation was always the same, you'd express your discomfort with something and he'd get angry, defensive. Then, eventually after so much arguing would get you to 'realise' that it's no big deal, that you shouldn't have reacted that way at all and in fact, you should apologise to him for making him feel like a cheater.
You had considered breaking up with him, so many times, in fact. Yet, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do it, still holding out with hope that things will improve.
"Baby, I swear nothing is going on, she's just my friend."
"Fine, okay." You ceased, feeling mentally drained by hours of conflict, "I have to go, need to meet Ellie, we have that test soon."
"You're leaving?" Dean said, clearly still agitated and pumping from the fight,
"Yes, Dean," you sighed, glancing in the mirror to double-check that your makeup hadn't been ruined from the previous crying, "I told you, this exam is really important," In other words, you have more things to be worrying about than your issues with him.
Gathering your books and piling them into your tote bag, you felt Dean's eyes on you, silently steaming as he saw you pick up your books.
"I'll see you later," Without looking back, you grabbed your keys from the side of the door and headed out.
He always had a problem with Ellie, which you couldn't understand, she was always supportive and kind to you. What reason would he have to dislike her?
You had been friends ever since that first physics class three years ago, you had sat in the row in front of her, over fifteen minutes into the lecture had passed until you felt a tap at your shoulder. Turning, you were greeted with green eyes and a smiling face adorned with light freckles.
"Hey, you got a spare pen?" She looked bashful, almost embarrassed that she hadn't been prepared even for the first class of the year. A half smile was placed on her lips. Amused, you gladly handed her a pen, pleased that you had an abundance of pens neglected at the bottom of your tote bag. You were always prepared, just not the most organised.
At the end of the lecture, she tried to hand you back the pen, but you refused and insisted she kept it, was she planning on asking someone for every class she had? That was just inefficient.
When you wouldn't accept the pen back, she ripped out a rough square from a page of her notebook, scribbling her number quickly so she could pay you back for the pen. 
You had been friends ever since, there was something that just worked. She had been there long before Dean and you would be damned if he was to get in the way of your friendship.
You had reached Dina and Ellie's place, they both shared the accommodation whilst you lived in a one-bed en-suite in a dorm. Dean lived at his fraternity, which you always hated going to meaning you spent most of the time at your place instead. 
Knocking, you only waited for a few seconds until the door swung open, revealing Ellie, clad in a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. The open door had caused a draught to haze through the air, the faint scent of smoke and music softly playing at a low volume.
"Hey, you." She spoke, smiling that usual smile that was seemingly tattooed on her lips. Ellie moved out of the doorway to let you in, closing the door behind you as you stepped into the familiar, comforting living room.
"Hey," your tone must have not been well received, as it prompted a,
"Well, what's gotten into you?"
"I've had the worst day, Dean-" you were interrupted by a slightly exaggerated groan, with an added,
"What has he done this time?"
"Ellie.." you sighed, dropping your tote from your shoulder and to the floor, kneeling down to pull out your books and pens.
"I'm serious," she threw her hands up, leaning against the edge of the desk where her work had been all set out already, "He's always up to some bullshit."
Ellie was confused, annoyed actually as you explained the situation to her. In her head, as a lesbian, the solution to these kinds of issues was so, so obvious to her; break up with him, he's not worth it. She had repeated this rhetoric to many of her men-loving friends, all of which refused to listen to her only to turn out heartbroken in the end, anyway.
"I wasn't exactly being rational either," you tried to explain, not that you were making excuses for him, but you felt a certain need to defend your relationship with Ellie. She was always so judgemental of the people you dated. You knew deep down that it was her way of looking out for you, she had consistently been the one to bring you comfort during your relationship breakdowns. And there had been a few of them.
"Don't do that, that's exactly what he wants," She spoke sympathetically, her words very soft considering that, mentally she was currently fighting Dean, and winning.
What was wrong with these guys? Ellie thought, you had dated some specimens before, but this new fraternity bro, Dean? She couldn't stand him.
Seemingly fuelled by his returned distaste towards her, but she knew the real reason why.
He was a pig. Flirting with any girl that'd give him attention, Ellie had caught him at parties with drunk girls hanging off his arms, inches away from their faces, centimetres away from cheating. Only for him to charm his way out of it when you confronted him. It pained her to see you go through this, especially when there were so many options out there. Like her, for example.
To be frank, Ellie's asking for that pen three years ago hadn't been entirely innocent. Whilst, it wasn't a lie per se, as she did, in fact, not have a pen on her first day, making her feel like the worst student on the planet.
She had taken notice of you when you first walked into that physics class. Eyeliner, framing the outer corners of your eyes and tight curly hair that lay perfectly around your face caught her attention. You were so beautiful, she knew she had to talk to you.
As you two had gotten to know each other over those first few months, her little crush had evolved from simple attraction to a full-blown, 'would rip the sun out of the sky if it meant seeing you smile', feelings situation. Whilst her initial intention had been to try and flirt a little bit, over time (really didn't take that long) Ellie realised that you were something special. The bond and groove you had as platonic friends was too great to risk ruining it all. So she decided, her feelings shouldn't be the thing to damage it. Ellie being Ellie, didn't know how to deal with said feelings, so she had made a pact with herself to never act on them, never expect anything other than platonic behaviour on your part, and never, ever let you find out. So whilst you dated, so did she.
"Anyways, can we talk about, literally anything else now? Like our exam that we have in a few days, perhaps?" You hummed, kicking your shoes off and sprawling on her couch, reaching down into your bag for something you had saved for this exact moment.
"Right, 'cos studying is the reason why you're laying dead on my couch right now." Ellie chuckled, joining you and holding your legs up to settle her body on the couch as well, before placing your legs on top of her lap.
"What are you even looking for?"
"Just wait, you'll see." You responded, still rooting through the bag, god where is it?
"Well, not if you can't find it in that damn bag, how do you even find anything in those?"
"Shut up," you chuckled, feeling better already. That's something you loved about Ellie, no matter what would happen to you, a few minutes with her and you'd feel like you had taken uppers.
"Ah, finally," you breathed out, fishing out a single joint that had become embarrassingly bent in the trauma that is, being an object lost inside the bottom of a tote bag.
Ellie laughed when her eyes caught sight of the bent joint, rubbing her eyes as they started to tear from the entertainment.
"You didn't have to go through that much effort to pull out that monster, plus you know I always have enough here, we don't need to smoke yours."
"It may look unfortunate, but this is the best shit in town right now." You tried to sell, "Got it from Xav,"
"Xav? How did you manage that?"
"One of Dean's frat brothers put in a huge order with him and sold me some, thought I'd save it so we could smoke it together." 
"You truly know the way to my heart," Ellie gushed, before leaning over your legs, to grab the closest ashtray and a lighter, passing it to you, roller's rights, after all.
"This doesn't look like studying, though," Ellie spoke, eyes falling to your lips as they wrapped over the end of the joint, sparking and taking a drag. She excused her thoughts.
"I just want some peace before I have to focus on work, you know?" You said, exhaling out the smoke.
Ellie sighed, knowing Dean was truly taking a toll on you, she watched as your face fell, obviously being reminded of the previous events. She wishes there was more she could do, how many times could she say leave him, before it sounded too obvious? Too pushy? Too out of line?
"Fuck him, don't worry about that for now. You're with me, this is a Dean-free zone." Ellie cheered, taking the lit joint as you passed it to her.
You felt her fingers trail random lines and shapes on your leg as she smoked, probably not even aware she was doing it. It was comfortable and set off a wave of sleepiness to hit you.
Ellie passed you the joint back,
"You going to that party tonight?" She asked,
"I don't know, I think Dean wants to go but I was planning on sitting this one out,"
"Why don't you come? Dina and Jesse will also be there, so you don't have to spend the whole party with him,"
"Fine, only because I haven't seen Dina and Jesse for a while,"
"I can live with that," she chuckled.
Deciding you were no longer comfy in that position, you lifted your legs up off Ellie, before manoeuvring your body so that you were sat side by side. Passing the joint back to her, you rested your head on her shoulder. What you didn't notice was Ellie's visible tensing the second you laid your head on her.
It wasn't like it was unusual behaviour from you, yet she reacted like this every time. 
"What do you think of it?"
"Fuck yeah, it's good," she swallowed, head turning to glance over at you resting your head comfortably on her shoulder, "You falling asleep down there?"
"No..." you mumbled, your voice visibly getting quieter as you were getting sleepier. You were just so tired. Constant arguing with Dean, working or studying. You needed a break, plus Ellie had a habit of being super comfortable to nap on.
"You sure?"
"No..."
"It's alright, have a nap, we’ll study later."
Ellie chuckled, she continued smoking the joint to its ends, relaxed by the sound of your breathing as you fell asleep. She took the opportunity to observe you for a minute, you looked peaceful, a hell of a lot more peaceful than you were when you first entered. She wished that you could always be that content, at peace. Ellie wanted you to be happy, whether with her or not, she just didn't want you so stressed and drained by yet another unhealthy relationship.  
It was then she took time to think, how messy the situation had truly become.
After your nap, you and Ellie actually did finally study, spending a few hours going over the course material and sharing notes. With a few distractions here and there, but successful nonetheless.
You were back at home, Dean seemingly long gone back to his own place, as you got yourself dressed for this party. Texting Ellie that you were ready, you awaited her knock on your door, as your place was a bit closer to the party you decided you'd make your way there together and you'd crash back at your house later.
Once she arrived, you two made your way to the party, it was in the next block of student accommodation, so it was only a quick walk.
Before long, you had reached the party, greeted by its loudness with thumping music and loud chatter.
"It's fucking packed," you complained, already nervous. The bass of the loud music echoing in your chest, exacerbating the anxiety you felt.  
"It will be okay, let's go find Dina and Jesse,"
It took a few glances to land on them but they had been settled in a corner with two other girls. One with short black hair and the other with long, blonde hair.
Making your way towards them, Dina spotted you and Ellie and eagerly waved you guys over to their spot.
"Bitch! Where have you been?" Dina questioned, and truly it had been an unreasonable amount of time since you'd seen her, which is weird considering how often you were at her and Ellie's place.
"Don't get me started," you sighed, whilst smiling at her and wrapping your arms around her.
"Well, it's good to see you, we missed you!" Gesturing towards herself and Jesse, who took his cue to also greet you.
Dina introduced you to her friends who were also sitting with them, the one with black hair was introduced as Cat, and the blonde was called Abby.
They were nice but you weren't too sure about the dark-haired one, she seemed a bit standoffish to you, only, but welcoming and friendly to everyone else in your group, and especially to Ellie. You noted it and placed the thought at the back of your head for dissection later.
In the ten minutes you had been there, Dean had spotted you and walked over. Causing an eye roll to come from Ellie,
"Hey, you're here!" He was drunk, words slurred and eyes heavily lidded. How much had he already had to drink?
Wrapping his arms around your waist, and nuzzling his face into your neck, the scent of alcohol lingered on him and you found that you didn't want him to be that close to you.
Your eyes met Ellie's briefly before she quickly looked away and took a long sip from her cup, which had been filled up with some vodka and whiskey mixed with some chaser by Dina. She turned her head away from you and began talking to Cat, faces a lot closer than most people. 
You tore your eyes away from their interaction, turning to face Dean.
"I have to go to the bathroom," Dean shrugged, too incapacitated to care too much before making his way back to some of his frat brothers. Yuck.
You were making your way to the bathroom, hoping to find the right door, but you weren't successful the first time, the second or the third. You were starting to wonder how many goddamn rooms were in this place until you finally reached it, and it was of course labelled with a stupid little diy frat sticker that said 'bathroom' featuring other, more immature graffiti. Apt, you thought.
The light was on but the door was slightly ajar, thinking nothing of it you walked in believing it to be empty. The room was also, of course, occupied. You mentally laughed at your own bad luck as you saw Abby sneaking a cigarette out the window. Her body perched up on the windowsill as she breathed the smoke out the open gap.
"Shit- oh it's just you," she chuckled, holding her hand on her heart indicating that you had slightly frightened her, clearly from her doing something she isn't supposed to be doing.
"Sorry, thought it was empty," you said, turning your body towards the door in an effort to leave her to it,
"You don't have to leave I'm just smoking this before any of my team sees me,"
That brought a smile to reach your lips,
"Why are you sneaking cigarettes like a 16 year old?"
"Athletes aren't really meant to smoke, but shit happens. I just don't want to hear it from coach." She mumbled taking her final drag, throwing the butt out the window.
"I'll take it to my grave," You promised, making a little zip motion on your lips.
"All yours," she smiled, making her way out of the bathroom.
"I won't take long, we can head down to the group together,"
So you did, exiting the bathroom, Abby smiling at you,
"Let's go?"
"Sure,"
You had travelled down the stairs, engaging in random, friendly small talk until you had reached everyone. Abby sat back down next to Dina and Jesse, who were ranting amongst themselves, whilst Cat and Ellie had been left to their own devices. Now, you and Ellie had been friends for a while, you kinda knew what she looked like when she was flirting with girls. And this was definitely that. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean respawning in your face again,
"Wanna explain that?"
That completely broke you out of your little trance, explain what?
"What?"
"Why were you in the bathroom with her?"
"She was-" you remembered your promise to her, "We were just chatting, nothing weird happened, if that's what you're thinking."
He grabbed your wrist and walked with you to a quieter corner of the room,
"Why are you lying?"
"Dean, nothing happened we were chatting because she was in there when I walked in,"
"Do you know what she is?"
"I just met her today, Dean," You didn't want to deal with this right now, Ellie had said she was going to try and help you escape Dean tonight and instead she got annoyed by his presence and began flirting with Cat.
"What is with you and hanging out with all of those d-...", he trailed off,
"Those what, Dean?" You were beyond angry at this point, you didn't like what he was implying.
"You know, all those le-"
"Hey," your altercation was interrupted, "Everything cool?" Ellie was looking between you both, eyebrows furrowed as she looked you over, gauging the situation. She knew you could fight your own battles, but when a drunk man is getting too handsy on someone it's always good practice to remain vigilant.
"We're fine." He said, his words less slurred now, a bit more pissed off. Egged on by the fact that his very point had just interrupted him.
"Oh yeah?" She pressed, making sure to look at you when she asked, having watched the interaction since he dragged you away.
"Yeah, I'm okay," you added, trying to give her a grateful look with your eyes, whether she got the message or not wasn't confirmed. Ellie wasn't one to let things go, but then she asked you if you wanted to be left alone with him and when you simply said 'Yeah I can deal with this," there was nothing more she could do without being too out of line. 
Sighing to herself, she dragged her feet back to the group, silently warring with herself over her actions, wondering if she put her nose in someone else's business or whether she didn't act enough. She had decided that was enough for the night, she'd try and focus on something else.
Whilst you were frustrated; you didn't want to explain the situation to her yet, at this point.
"Dean I don't like what you're trying to say, I don't want to be near you right now, we can talk about this at home."
"Sure, whatever." He walked off. You exhaled a sigh that had been festering in your chest for a while.
Wandering back to Dina, Jesse and Abby, noticing a considerable lack of Ellie and Cat. But at least you could clear your mind, Dina offered you another drink- which you gladly took.
You were in conversations with your friends, a good amount of minutes had passed and you finally caught sight of Ellie. You felt your heart twitch, your stomach churning at the sight.
Ellie was engaged in some heated make-out with that Cat, her hands tightly wrapped around the back of the girl's neck. The lights of the room bounced off her skin, illuminating them in deep reds and blues, as their lips moved against each other. It was hot, you couldn't lie. Perhaps the alcohol had hit you a lot more than you thought. You had seen Ellie in action, but not in action.
You felt yourself start to stare, lost in the sight of Ellie until you felt your breathing start to quicken and your legs fidgeting. You had to pull your eyes away, shaming yourself in your head for even looking that long, like a damned pervert.
Taking another sip of your drink, your thoughts trailed, you wondered what it would feel like to be in Cat's position, to feel Ellie's passionate grasp and soft lips against yours. You wondered if her kisses would feel loving and warm, not cold like you were used to.
You quickly dismissed your thoughts, blaming it on the alcohol, wondering what was spurring this on, all of a sudden.
You soon decided it was probably time to head home, the party had lived its course and you were in a worse mood than when you first got there. Mission failed, indeed.
Saying your goodbyes to Dina, Jesse and Abby you made your way through the dance floor to Ellie.
"Hey, I'm gonna head out," You interrupted a conversation occurring between Ellie and Cat.
"Oh, you sure?" She glanced between you and Cat, "Will you be okay getting home?" She asked.
"Yeah, I'm gonna find Dean and we're gonna go,"
"Oh," her face soured, "You're really still going home with that guy?"
"Well..." you stilled, you didn't exactly want to, but you knew he wouldn't give up until he got to say his piece, regardless of where you were, "We have stuff to talk about, I guess." Your voice and tone sound beaten, tired.
"I see," She glanced you over, hesitant, as if she was about to say something but then changed her mind. You could almost see thoughts flying in her eyes. 
"See you later," Cat smiled at you, though it didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes, no crease of skin. Everything seemed polite on the surface, but there were weird undertones in her voice, indifference. The vibe of that was definitely weird, right?
"Yeah,"
With that, you found Dean and left to go home.
Panting, you were panting. Heavy breaths mixed with sloppy touches in the darkness of red and blue lights.
You pulled away, glancing at Ellie, the corners of her plump lips curling into a smirk as she caressed your thighs. Fingers teasing near your entrance, you were completely ready for her touch, dripping, waiting.
"I can't wait to taste you, baby." she spoke, her words soft but with a hint of a growl that excited you, eager for what was about to come.
Then your eyes split open, and you were lay on your bed, hours had passed and you had been fast asleep. Sleep came easy, induced by the alcohol you had consumed, as you realised you had just been dreaming.
It took you a few seconds to stir and become conscious of what you had been dreaming about. Then the shame hit. What the fuck was that?
It didn't last long though, before you heard Dean's voice,
"That was hot,"
You slightly jumped at the surprise of his voice, not expecting him to have been awake and especially aware that you were having a dream of such nature, about your best friend of all people.
"You got me all hard, babe." You suddenly felt too overwhelmed, flashes of Ellie's lips and fingers cursed your mind as Dean's voice was mixed into your thoughts.
Confusion and panic hit your senses, you didn't want to look at Dean's expecting face when your mind was still reeling with the faint remnants of being under Ellie's warm and comforting touch, even in the astral plane, your body still warm and wanting. But not for him. Disgust overwhelmed your veins, poisoning the air in your lungs as you realised you couldn't think of anything worse than him touching you. It was as if that dream had been a message, a sign that this wasn't what you wanted. Or deserved. A sudden unexpected epiphany.
You quickly shot up and ran to the bathroom, no words spoken between you as you closed the door. Ensuring space between you both.
You sighed and grabbed at the roots of your hair, thinking of how utterly fucked this is.
You thought back to Ellie, would she be disgusted at your thoughts? Would she feel weird and uncomfortable if she knew you had been thinking of her that way? Her best, and very platonic, friend. She definitely isn't interested, you thought, remembering the way she had grabbed Cat closer to her and embraced her in a kiss that could only enflame your very being. Jealous. You realised, that's what that feeling was. It seemed to occur a lot regarding Ellie, that feeling.
Dean's voice blared through the door, reverberating through the walls.
"It's about that blond bitch isn't it?" Your eyebrows pulled together, fucks sake.
"Dean, please." It was stupid o'clock in the morning, the last thing you wanted was yet another argument.
"I knew those fucking lesbians would fuck with your head, you've always been a stupid woman, following whoever gives you attention."
His words hurt, and doubly pissed you off. How dare he? Those were your friends he was talking about.
You opened the door, Dean all blotchy and red in the face, fuelled by the past months of his bullshit and borderline abuse, this was the final nail. He was not about to say disgusting things and expect no repercussions. Lifting your hand, you put your entire back into connecting your palm with his cheek, made real by the smacking sound of skin, loud as a gunshot in the dark hours of the night contrasting the silence of no other surrounding sound in the dorms.
"Fuck you, Dean. I'm over this, get out." You stared him right in the eye as he rubbed the throbbing skin of his cheek to alleviate some pain. You couldn't help but feel a hint of relief that it had actually hurt him, as horrid as that sounds. You weren't a violent person, by any means, yet the continuous accusations, the newly exposed homophobia, his vile behaviour - it had to be done. You were done letting him treat you like that.
"I don't need you anyway, can find ten other girls that'd give me what I want."
"Go do that, then." You huffed, wondering why you hadn't done this earlier.
"Already have, sweetheart." He smirked, eyes glinting as he finally lifted the shroud of lies he had been filling your head with. You always knew deep down, you just chose to ignore it. Worms in the brain feasting at any rational thought and your self-respect. You didn't find it in yourself to get angrier.
"Get out of my house, Dean." You finalised, arms crossed over your chest, you just hoped he'd go willingly.
"You're not worth it, anyway." He cements, body turning to put on his shoes, chuckling as his heavy presence finally leaves your door.
You let out a breath, relief, shame and anger seeping into the deepest part of your being.
You were glad he's gone, truly. You just wish you had killed it sooner. Ellie was right, he ain't shit.
You sat on the edge of your bed, suddenly finding that the dark, empty space in your room was doing you no favours.
Pulling out your phone, you drafted a text to Ellie,
3.47 a.m:  you awake?
It was a long shot, you almost gave up on a response for tonight until you felt your phone buzz.
3.49 a.m:  ..always
3.49 a.m:  whats up?
Your lips tilted into a weak smile, before responding,
3.50 a.m:  u should be sleeping rn!
3.50 a.m:  umm so should u
3.51 a.m:  whats wrong?
Sighing, you had to bite the bullet, already started it now.
3.52 a.m:  he's an asshole, i broke up with him
A few minutes passed, and you wondered what was taking so long even though in the grand scheme of time it was only a few seconds, really. It was just anticipation, time felt dragged out awaiting her response. You didn't know that Ellie was laying on her bed feverishly typing, deleting and re-typing, overthinking how to respond. She wanted to say, 'I knew this' and how she was happy he was gone because he was a loser who didn't deserve you anyway. How she never liked him. Ellie didn't want to be insensitive, though, lest she hurt your feelings further. 
3.57 a.m: how are you feeling?
3.58 a.m:  im just glad he's gone tbh
3.58 a.m: had to be done
Ellie couldn't help the hint of a smile that fought its way onto her features, she typed her response. Picking at the dry skin around her thumb with her teeth as she sent her next message, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
3.59 a.m: he didn't deserve you anyway, you're too good for that.
You felt a warmth rush through you, stomach tightening as you read into her words. You wished that she meant it, that her feelings matched yours. Your mind thinks back to Cat, instantly murdering any hope in your heart.
You don't remember when your feelings for Ellie began to change, but looking back on it, you had felt so unsatisfied, seldom comfortable with your past lovers. Ellie was the only person who knew you, truly. Who had loved you and made you feel so safe, her comforting presence always soothing you, you felt like a person around Ellie. Whole. It had just taken some time for life to knock some sense into you to realise. It has always been Ellie. 
4.01 a.m: want me to come to you or you wanna come here?
4.01 a.m: it's so late you don't have to! i'll be ok promise
4.02 a.m: hah good one.. gimme ten mins
Ellie was not messing, not much time passed before she was knocking on the front door of your dorm. 
"Hey," Her voice was soft, gentle, her eyes shining with such a tender glint. She's always had such pretty eyes, you thought. 
"Hi,"
You moved a few steps to give her space to enter,
"How you doing?" She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tighter than you expected,
"Honestly, I'm okay," Ellie took a look at you, gauging your overall mood and believed it, you already looked lighter, less weight (*Dean) holding down your shoulders. 
"Think I mentally checked out a long time ago," you added, sitting down on your bed and lifting your laptop screen to load a show, acting somewhat as a buffer amongst the silence.
"So what happened?"
You couldn't help the audible groan that escaped your lips, "He got pissy when he saw me leaving the bathroom with Abby and accused me of cheating,"
"Abby?" Ellie had taken off her coat and shoes, joining you on your spot on the bed.
"Yeah, she was smoking in the bathroom hiding from their coach, we walked down to the group together, it was only small talk. I was so confused, he started saying things about who I was hanging out with,".
"Meaning?"
"He's a fucking homophobic prick,"
"He said hanging out with 'all those lesbians was fucking with my head', said I follow whoever gives me attention," you sighed, "then I slapped him."
Ellie couldn’t help it, she felt a swell of pride that you slapped him, stood up for yourself. He deserved so much worse, she thought.
Ellie couldn't hide the smirk that reached her lips, as much as she tried to suppress it, it still came.
"That's my girl,"
You didn't expect your stomach to twist when those words left her mouth, opening something up deep inside.
"He finally admitted to cheating, and then it was over," You sighed.
"I'm proud of you," Ellie muttered, fidgeting with her nail-beds, failing to meet your eyes.
"You don't have to say that, I know how pathetic this is,"
Resting your head on the headboard, you brought your legs into a cross,
"Hey, I mean it, it must've been a lot," She paused, her hand coming to rest on your knee, rubbing her thumb over the skin absentmindedly, like it was second nature to her. Perhaps, it was.
You looked over at her, eyes trailing down her features, freckles and the green eyes that still weren't meeting yours, suddenly shy.
"You're amazing, you deserve to know that," she paused, eyes finally meeting your own, determined.
"So are you," Your voice lowered, trailing back to the pretty brunette from earlier.
“So what’s going on with you and that girl?” You shouldn’t have said anything, but it was out before you could stop it. Clearly, your brain kept thinking about it.
“It’s..” Ellie thought about what to say, it would sound extremely horrible to say Cat was mainly a distraction, unfair as she is a lovely person, but it’s true.
“Nothing more than what you saw,”
Vague, was that best response to that, Ellie thought.
“I saw quite a bit,”
“Honestly, she’s great, we get along and all but..’ She’s not you. “I don’t think it’ll go any further.”
“She seemed to really like you, why not?”
Ellie almost wanted to laugh, it was so painfully obvious to her, how could you not see it?
“I guess.. I want something different.”
Her eyes connected with yours, the contact between your eyes felt different now, charged. You caught yourself stealing a glance at her lips, which slightly parted as she spotted where your eyes had fallen.
“Like what?”
She had no response, it was either avoid the question, or firm it. Ellie didn’t know which was the right answer.
"Ellie.." You paused, words caught in your throat, as scenarios rushed through your head like a rolodex of different possible outcomes. Heart tugging at your brain to do something, anything.
"Yeah?" Her head leaned closer to yours, your breathing slowly becoming heavier, the room's environment growing thicker, harder to inhale. Her hand still on your knee, unmoving now, frozen in place.
You could almost make contact with her lips, if you moved just a tiny inch closer. Her hand trailed slightly further up your leg, just a little above your knee, almost as if to test the waters. You wondered if she felt like you did, if she could also feel her veins light up and her body inflamed. Were her lips just as eager to touch yours? Were her hands longing to feel you just as well?
Before you realised, it was out.
"Ellie, can I kiss you?"
A beat, and no response. You felt your heart start to panic, already thinking over how to pretend that had never happened. You almost regretted it, until her hand reached for the back of your neck, reducing the distance between your faces.
Lips meeting yours, shyly at first, hesitant. Ellie’s mind was whirling, feeling her heartbeat pump aggressively throughout her body, there was no way this was reality, she thought. No way that you were here in front of her, asking to kiss her, after all this time of her yearning, feeling like a useless lesbian who would never ever make a move on you.
She could almost feel herself kicking her feet in the air, as she decided to firm it. Scared if she waited any longer, the opportunity would cease to exist, pass her by and join one of those regrets she’d think about as an elder.
Your lips met hers back, eager to push for contact, eager to push closer. Your zeal spurring hers on, as her hands clasped the back of your neck, keeping you in place. Not like you wanted to be anywhere else.
This was it. This is what you should’ve been feeling in the past.
Ellie’s soft, plump lips melted over yours, taunting with a bite and pulling your bottom lip out before entering her tongue into your mouth.
Fuck. That was hot.
You felt yourself getting hotter, damper by the minute as the kiss continues, Ellie’s hand getting more comfortable and trailing down to your thighs.
You pulled apart for a second, taking the time to catch your breath as you looked into her eyes, usually green but now much darker, enhanced by enlarged pupils as she glazed her sights over you. An unreadable expression on her face,
“Are you okay?”
“You’re so hot, and amazing and I-I really want to keep going, I just- I don’t know, I don’t want this to be like a .. rebound thing. I really care about you but I just, don’t want to feel like that, you know?” She rambled on, her thoughts getting ahead of themselves as she was pondering if it happened, then if it was too late to return to what you had been, before things got all naked and messy.
You understood, of course you did. You had literally broken up with him just maybe two hours ago. But it didn’t matter, you had to say it. Let her know and reassure her that it was only her.
“Ellie.. you could never be a rebound to me,” You stammered a little before the next part, “You’re the one I’ve wanted this whole time. It’s always been you.” You pecked her lips, grabbing her face, looking into her eyes hoping she’d see the seriousness in yours.
“I’ve wanted you for a really long time,” she broke contact, “I just didn’t wanna fuck shit up,”
“I mean it, Ellie, I’ve never felt as certain about something as I do this,”
Her stature relaxed, you continued, “I love you, Ellie. I didn’t love anyone else,”
“I love you,” she answered, the corner of her lip tilting up, eyes brighter.
“I’ll just have to show you how much, if that’s okay with you.”
Her gaze turned curious, before nodding, watching as your hands danced down her sides and ever so slightly underneath the fabric of her shirt.
“You can do whatever you want with me, honestly,” she murmured. You caught her body tensing, almost shaky as you lifted her shirt. Warm hands covering the sides of her defined stomach, you squeezed a little, just enough to rile her up.
Which it did, Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as she anticipated your next move. Losing control of her lungs, she was about to explode.
“This okay?” Your hand met the band of her sports bra, digging scarcely into her skin beneath it.
“Yeah,” she exhaled, stuck in place, watching, her cheeks becoming flushed, “Shit,”
You hands pressed over her breasts, tightening pressure around as she let out a content sigh. You dipped your head down to wrap your lips around her nipple, licking laps over the tip and softly blowing air over them when you decided you were done, chuckling to yourself at the goosebumps that now raised on her skin,
“Don’t tease,” She murmured, composure dwindling.
“Sorry, can’t help myself,”
You kissed down her stomach to her pelvis, feeling her restlessness grow as her body refused to stay still, itching for you to do more.
You leaned back up, placing either leg over her torso and looked her over, making sure she was okay as your hand moved lower down, seemingly in a mind of its own as it crept past the waistband, meeting her skin as you held eye contact.
Ellie folded, shutting her eyes as the waiting became too much, you tapped her leg with your free hand,
“Eyes on me,”
When she held your eye contact once again, you teased a finger past her folds, almost letting out a groan at how wet she was, at how easily you could feel her arousal.
“Fuck Els,” you sighed, struggling to contain yourself as your thoughts grew more indecent, slipping a finger in further as Ellie writhed underneath you, head hanging back.
“More fingers, please,” Her voice was strained, breathy as she closed her eyes, embarrassed to be feeling this undone already.
“Yeah?” The side of your mouth curled up, goaded by the sound of her voice. She nodded impishly, covering her eyes with her wrist, as her other hand reached to grip around your hip. A tight squeeze followed on your skin.
“I can do that, baby,” Following instructions, you slipped two more fingers into her, falling into a rhythm as you felt her clench around you. She glanced over your body, legs spread over her midsection as you leaned your arm back, hips gently grinding over hers- an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building up.
Her hand grabbed at the hem of your shirt, pulling it slightly and groaning when the tight material pushed against your breasts, she always loved how you never wore bras, stiff nipples poking through the fabric.
“Fuck, clothes off, now,” she let out in soft grunts, as she broke your wrist from her to take off your shirt, rubbing her hands over your newly exposed skin “Always fucking wanted to see you like this,” She spoke, your fingers meeting her centre again, “So fucking pretty,”
“You feel so good, Ellie,” You gasped, your hips involuntarily grinding on top of her stomach, “So fucking good ‘n wet for me,”
“Fuck-“ Ellie’s voice cut off as she bit into the back of her hand, her own hips rolling your hand in deeper, hitting her walls more than before as she let out a mewl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, angel,” she whimpered, voice strained as she continued to ride into your hand.
It was the hottest noise you’d ever heard, and you wanted to keep drawing it out of her. To keep hearing her moan for you, and your actions only.
Suddenly, you had something you prove, both to her and to yourself. Flashes of Cat in your mind as you wanted her to forget other women existed.
You unwrapped yourself off her lap, removing your fingers, kissing her stomach as you pulled her pants and underwear down, grabbing her legs and holding them open, exposing her even further.
“Damn,” you said, glancing over her wet inner thighs as they glistened, all for you.
“Shut up,” she spoke, voice tight as a side smile swept over her features, as she grabbed the back of your head, pushing you closer to her pulsing core, throbbing and dripping waiting for you to make contact.
You licked a line up her heat, moaning to yourself at the taste of her. You grew light-headed, thinking you could die happily just between Ellie’s legs, becoming addicted to her moans as you ate her out, head in a daze as she squeezed her thighs tight around your head, almost cutting off your air supply- her moans growing more frequent, as she reached closer. Your free hand moving up to wrap itself around her breast, squeezing tighter around her nipple.
Deciding to have a little more fun, you slipped two fingers into her wetness as you continued to lap your tongue around her clit, pushing up into her as you sucked. Dragging her delicious sap on your tongue as it marred all over your face, cheeks glassy with her warm sleek.
Ellie had lost control over her vocal cords at this point, moans slipping out from between her sweet lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. Hell, you were moaning too, despite not even being touched yet, dripping all over yourself, ass up and needy as you rolled your hips over thin air as you continued to soak yourself into Ellie.
There could be no coming back from this, you thought, not now that you had been exposed to the delicacy that is Ellie Williams. You were holding on to her and not letting go.
You felt Ellie’s moans get shorter, cutting themselves off from its full power before the next one came, her hips moving more haphazardly up to meet your tongue, she was close.
You glanced at her, her eyes closed, brows pinched up and mouth agape, a slight sheen to her skin from sweat, she’s so attractive, you thought.
With your free hand, your fingers guided themselves onto your own folds, rolling over your own clit for some release, the lack of hand on her caused Ellie’s eyes to lull over at you, the sight of your arched back, wet cheeks from her slick, spread legs as you touched yourself all whilst still fucking her into oblivion.
The damned sight of you, just as undone as Ellie, without her even touching you, was enough to cause the coil in her abdomen to twist, before she came all over your face, breath slowing into heavy pants as her body twitched. You lapped her up her residue, finally removing your face from between her legs as she looked at you. Wordless.
“Wh-what the fuck..” Ellie’s weak voice trailed, before laughing and forcing a kiss on your lips, hands wrapped around your jaw as she tasted the remnants of herself on you.
There was no way you were about to give her the best orgasm of her life and expect her to not do anything back? Funny joke. Ellie was ravenous now.
She placed you underneath her, biting around your thighs before bending her head down, her tongue having been desperate for a taste since that first day she saw you. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” Your legs tightened around her as the air from her voice hit your centre, “Been dyin’ for a taste,” You looked at her, tip of your eyebrows raised up as you took in her words, how long had she wanted you back? Her words caused you to shudder, whimpering as she continued.
“Fuck,” You said, voice breaking as her tongue rippled over your pussy as your hips shook, slurping up the honey that had been left neglected. Long, slender fingers meeting your centre that had felt so, so desperate and needy for her to touch.
“G’na show what you’ve been missing,” She hummed, as her fingers picked up pace working harmoniously with her tongue as she fucked into you. Warm muscle rolling over your pulsing clit. Fingers rubbing over your velvet walls which sucked her further in, skin dragging out with her soaked fingers when they recoiled out, the image obscene. “What was waiting for you this whole time,”
“Els- shit, wanna feel you,”
“What you want, baby?” She gasped out, in between breaths as fingers toyed with your clit.
“Wanna feel you, y-your fucking pussy on mine-fuck,” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. The desire was simply too strong, you were dizzy just from the thought of it. Ellie seemed to share your enthusiasm, her heart skipping a beat, the thought kindling her veins with heat.
This was truly a gift from the heavens, she thought.
“Shit- yeah, okay.” Ellie exhaled out, as she got you into position, grabbing one of your smaller pillows to cushion underneath you as she placed her legs over yours, getting into place as she rubbed her clit over yours, hips lolling over your pelvis.
The sounds were debaucherous as they filled the room, hot and wet, as if the spirit of Dionysus, himself had possessed you. Invoking you with bacchanal, carnal desire as you could think of nothing else than the sublime vice that is Ellie Williams.
“Fuck, Els, I’m gonna come,”
Ellie groaned, rocking her hips over yours, her defined abs on show, breasts working with Earth’s gravity as they sprung up and down to match her movements, hair falling out of her half-bun, causing some strands to stick to her face, completely dishevelled. You looked at her, eyes attached to yours, lust ruling over them, then looked back down to where you were both intertwined. You trapped your bottom lip with your teeth at the sight before you.
Her sap mingling with yours, leaking out from her cunt as it folds over your own, Wrapping you with her warmth, pulsating around yours. Ellie’s body still trembling from before.
“Then come for me, baby,”
You were gone. With her words, you felt yourself spilling out against her, not being able to hold back the climax of your arousal spurting out from you, splashes reaching Ellie’s legs.
“Fuck, Ellie!” Your voice drawled out, as the wave ran through you,
“That’s it, angel, come all over me,” She smirked down at you, breath heavy as she watched your eyes glaze over, lips parted and chest heavy as you finally came down. A ardent glaze over her eyes.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” She gaped, eyes transfixed on your figure as her reeling mind came down from the high.
“Shit, neither did I,” you laughed, covering your mouth, suddenly shy. With your head still in the clouds, you weren’t feeling as overly self-aware.
“That was fucking hot, and I’m not done.”
leave a comment, reblog or like if ya enjoyed <3
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freshxsturniolo · 3 months
Text
4th July - chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summary / warnings ; inspired by jake webbers 4th july party vid!! mentions of jake, johnnie, carrington and tara as well as the triplets. flirting, fluff.
PT2
"oh fuck, put me down" you laugh through a mouthful of beer, jake holding your legs on his shoulder as tara pressed down on the power button to the keg you were gripping hold of.
you hear the people around you laughing as you feel jake slowly lowering you to the ground and you whip your head back up, swolling down the beer. you wince as the liquid finally flushes through you and you feel two hands clap on your shoulders, the sound of your more recent friend carringtons voice in your ear.
"took that like a champ" he laughs, and you turn round to look at him with a grimace.
"that tastes like shit" you say, and he only laughs harder as he gives your shoulder a squeeze before walking off in the direction of the pool table.
you let your eyes adjust around you, the garden full of people you only half recognised, some you had never seen before in your life, before jake passes you an actual drink.
"here you go, m'lady" he chuckles, and you swat at his arm but take the drink gratefully.
"do you even know everyone here, jake?" you ask, looking around the garden again, and jake pulls you by the elbow closer to him as carrington now wants to take your place with the beer keg. a group of his friends already ready to hold his legs whilst tara stays put on the ground to be the one to assist him.
"no." jake admits, and you give him an eye and he shrugs. "some are johnnies friends. some carringtons. some i just invited to be nice." he laughs, and you can't help but laugh with him. he had always been so carefree.
johnnie comes bouncing over now, a giggle on his lips as he holds 3 jello shots in his hands.
"these were the last 3" he says, handing one to each you and jake.
"the last 3?!" you spit. "we spent hours making these last night. how many fucking people are here?" you laugh, but you all take the shots in one, grimacing as the vodka hits your mouth. you pass the empty container back to johnnie who hurries off to the throw them in the trash, at the same time someone you had never seen before catches jakes attention. he gives you elbow a quick rub of reassurance and you give him a smile, knowing you'll catch up with him later and set off to make yourself mingle with the people here.
but it only takes you a few steps before your eyes meet with the person you've been secretly waiting to arrive.. his blue eyes staring at you deeply.
you're drunk, you know you're drunk, the beer from the keg and the jello shot hitting you immediately after already copious amounts of alcohol you'd been drinking through the day, but you let your face stay calm as you give the blue eyed boy a small smile.
chris sturniolo is leaning against one of the fences in the garden, staring at you with a smile on his lips. his two brothers matt and nick are not too far away, but they're engrossed in a conversation with someone you don't recognise and are yet to notice you.
you take a deep sip from your cup and start the walk over to him. he's looking you up and down, which you can hardly expect anything less. you're wearing the exact same outfit as tara. little shorts and a bikini top, only yours is blue and hers is red, and you have to admit you'll likely a little too exposed. you feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of you, but you appreciate the way he looks you straight in the eyes as you finally reach him.
"that was pretty impressive" he says, nodding over to the keg you'd just been drinking from. you smile.
"what can i say? im a girl of many talents." you laugh, taking another sip from your drink.
"that you are" he says, before he pushes himself off the fence and engulfs you in a hug.
there was something unspoken between you and chris. you had only met a handful of times, two of those being super brief when he was filming videos for jake and tara, yet somehow you could not keep away from him. you were constantly texting, after exchanging numbers over instagram dm after the first time you met, and you had continued to conversate with each other ever since. sometimes they were just flowing conversations, how are yous and what you up tos, sometimes they were deeper, about work and about the industry and about stress, but sometimes they were flirtatious, youre so prettys and wow you look in that recent instagram post.
you dont know what it was about chris sturniolo, but you enjoyed every second of him.
as you pulled away from your hug, you gave him a smile.
"do you not want a drink?" you ask, and he takes a peak into your cup.
"yeah, go on then." he smiles.
"what about these two?" you say, pointing to his brothers who had yet to acknowledge you yet. chris chuckles.
"matts driving and nicks got a meeting early tomorrow."
"too bad" you smile, and you grab his hand without even thinking, pulling him into the direction of the kitchen. you weave past what feels like hundreds of people stopping every now and then as chris daps up the odd person he knows, jake and johnnie being two of them, before you finally make it to the kitchen. you let go of his hand once you're there.
"okay" you say, leaning over to take a look at the ray of beers lined up.
"we got corona, we got some miller, we got some vodka,"
"corna will do" he says into your ear above the music and the bustle of people around you. you lean over and grab him one, passing it across to him before finding the bottle opener. he goes to take it off you but you pull your arm away, placing your hand right at the top of his on his bottle and staring straight at him, before you use the bottle opener to take off the lid. all the whilst your eyes on his.
he can't help but chuckle at you as he takes a sip, and you're about to say something when arms wrap around your neck.
"CHRIS" the voice shouts, and your hand instantly goes up to the arm you as you feel it as carrington.
"hey, man" chris nods, and you notice as he looks at both of your skin touching each other. you can't pretend it doesn't make you smile. so you play with him, you rub your hand against carringtons arm as he keeps it in place, but uses his free arm to clink drinks with chris.
"how are ya?" carrington says, and you take a sip of your beer before moving your head to look up at him. he looks down at you straight away. "what?" carrington says, and you laugh.
"nothing, carry on" and you divert back to chris.
"yeah, good man. real good." chris says.
"as you should be" carrington says, before he bends down so his cheek is touching yours.
"you need to come film a section for jakes video" carrington says, and you let out a groan. you had forgotten jake had meant to be filming the whole thing and you suddenly realise you hadn't seen him with his camera once.
"okay, okay" you say, and carrington finally moves his hand from around your neck and automatically grabs onto your hand. he's already striking up conversation with someone who's just past the three of you, so you use the short couple seconds to look towards chris.
"well" you start, holding up your drink to salute. "short and sweet, but duty calls. i'll catch you later?"
chris smiles, saluting you with his drink. "of course" and he turns around to walk off. you let out a sigh before giving carringtons hand a quick tug, which he turns around to look at you, then to the empty space where chris just was, and he nods in understandmant as he guides you back through the crowd, back out into the garden, and smack into the front of jakes camera.
it only takes a short few seconds before you're laughing, both jake and carrington with their arms around your neck as they sing along to the my chemical romance song blasting through the speakers. you're soon then joined by your best friend tara, who hands you all a fresh shot of tequila, and before you know it you're feeling lose again. dancing with your best friends, no care in the world if the camera is there or isnt.
unbeknown to you, chris is trying his hardest to distract him selves with conversations with this brothers and his friends at the party, but his always found yours. you singing with jake, dancing with tara and johnnie. he doesn't miss every second you get close to carrington either, and he starts to doubt all the conversations the two of you have had over the last few months. had he got the wrong end of the stick? where you just being friendly and he'd let his guard down a little?
after a another hour, you knew you were drunk. not just drunk, but the type of drunk where you go one of two ways. you either stay happy and giddy, or you fall down a pit of annoyance and you simply want to be left alone, but the music and the people surrounding you where only lifting your spirits as you took yourself to the kitchen to get another drink. theres people everywhere shouting your name as you walk through, and you smile and say hi to them, a few of your friends stopping you for photos, but when you finally reach to drinks table you let out a sigh of relief, reaching into your back pocket for you phone just to stand alone for a second.
you click onto instagram, already having being tagged in a few peoples instagram stories from photos you'd been taking throughout the day, a video on carringtons story of you upside down taking the keg, and you laugh as you reshare them all, before a text pings through.
chris : any chance we can properly say hi now?
you smirk at his message but whip your head around to look behind you, and see him standing against the kitchen door looking at you. you roll your head back and laugh, holding out your hand for him to come and join you. you notice the corna you had given him earlier is long gone and is now replaced by what looks like a standard beer, but his eyes are slightly red and you know he's had more than one or two.
"hi" you joke as he reaches you, taking your hand slightly as you let them slip to the side of you. he laughs, before looking towards all the drinks.
"are you sure you're okay to drink anymore?" he says, but you can tell he's being kind and not patronising.
you give him a side eye. "why, have you been watching me?"
his cheeks flush a little. "hard not to." he says, as he looks down at your body. now your cheeks flush, but you laugh it off as you reach over for a beer.
"im good. im a good mood." you say, letting go of his hand now and opening the bottle. "i could do with a sit down, for a few minutes though. are matt and nick still here?"
he smiles. "yeah, we're sat by the pool."
you groan in pleasure. "ugh, perfect. i can dip my feet in."
and you grab his hand again, pulling him out into the garden and smiling at the fresh air. your eyes scan the poolside, but chris steps infront of you slightly to guide the way. you hiccup slightly, and bring your hand to your mouth, and chris turns to look at you.
"sorry" you giggle, and chris look down at you.
"you're so cute" he says, and you notice that his eyes linger toward your lips for a second, but you shake it off as you move over to the pool, finally spotting eyes with his two brothers.
they each jump up when they see you, engulfing you in a hug, each telling you how incredible you look, before you all sit down by the pool again. theres a few others sat around in a circle, tara being one of them and she sticks her tongue out at you, which you return, before you sit closest to the pool, sighing as you deep feet into the cold water.
"that good?" you hear, opening your eyes to see chris has sat directly next to you, breaking up the circle completely. you were planning on twisting around ever so slightly to join in the conversation, but chris has completely blocked the way. you had to admit it made you feel a little giddy.
"so good. its SO hot" you say, facing back towards the pool.
"you could say that" he says, and you whip your head to give him a stare, which he just laughs at. you had not seen him for the last month. both of you so busy with work projects, and he had not long been on a few trips with his brother matt, and he had only grown more attractive to look at. his hair was a little long, possibly from travelling so much, he had a small bit of stubble that you'd never seen on him before in person, he's wearing a plain white tee and as you look down, black shorts. his legs were crossed but his knee was just inches away from your thigh, and you smile.
"what you smiling at?" he asks now, and you divert your eyes back to him as he takes a drink.
"we've never been alone together, did you know that?" you ask, and he raises his eyebrow, to which you roll your eyes. "i mean," you start. "we're always with people. someone else is always in on the conversation. i think todays the first day we've sat alone."
he nods as he looks behind him at his brothers and friends surrounding us, all engrossed in their own drunken little words, not even noticing that you and chris have distanced ourselves off slightly. you sit up slightly now, moving your hands away from the ground and grab your drink, taking a deep swig from it.
"its about time, dont you think?" chris asks.
"yeah. it is." you smile.
"i have to ask you something-" he starts, and you raise your eyebrow in anticipation, but you notice as his eyes scan the garden, his cheeks flushing slightly. "are you and-"
but he's cut off by a loud squeal. you each look up towards the noise as you see both carrington and jake holding tara in the air. one under her arms and the other her feet as they edge towards the pool. you both immediately let out a laugh as you watch the commotion, before the throw her into the pool. the water splashes up and towards you and chris, and you both move backwards to try and miss it, failing miserably as you both accidentally clash shoulders and get soaked through anyway.
"JAKE" you squeal, just in time for tara to emerge from under the water. it amazes you that her make up stays in the exact same position as she pushes her hair backwards, now completely soaked through.
"you're next" jake says, running towards you.
"NO" you squeal, but it's too late before jakes hands are on your waist. tara is laughing in the pool, egging jake on, and you can't help but laugh as jake tries his hardest to get you to stand up. when he finally does so, you let out a squeal and you can't help but automatically fly your hands out to chris, who laughs as he grabs hold of your hand.
"he can't save you" jake says, and before you know it you're flung in the air, hitting the water right next to tara. when you reemerge, you let out a splutter and wipe at your nose, letting your eyes adjust to the garden around you, but its only a matter of seconds before both jake and carrington canon ball in at either side of you, more screams erupting as you get soaked through once again.
"you're both INSUFFERABLE" you scream over the music, and you dodge carrington as he goes to fling his arms over your shoulder. he holds his hands to his heart, pretending to be hurt, but before you know it tara has flung herself onto him. you laugh at the two of them, jake dancing around trying to persuade others to get in the pool, and then you let your eyes divert to chris again. he's watching you with a smile, and you suddenly remember the conversation you were having.
you keep your eyes locked on him as you swim up to him, his legs still crossed at the edge of the pool, and you plant your arms on the ground to keep yourself afloat.
"what where you saying, before we got interrupted?" you ask, reaching out for your beer not to far away. chris watches you, his eyes scanning over your face, down towards your boobs pressed against the edge of the pool and you notice his adams apple bop up and down as he takes a deep swollow.
"nothing. its okay" he says, and you raise your eyebrow at him.
"tell me" you whine, and he looks towards the pool. your eyes follow him as you see tara on carringtons back, bopping up and down the pool, and you look back to him.
"i just - i - is anything going on, between you and carrington?" he stutters, and it takes everything in you to not smile. one, at the ridiculousness of his questions, because no, there was absolutely nothing going on between you and carrington, but two, the fact he cared. he cared enough to ask. you look at him, and suddenly you feel even more attracted to him. maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you, but you pick up your hands and grab his.
"come in here" you say, and he widens his eyes.
"not a chance" he laughs.
"what you are scared of?"
"nothing"
"then get in" you say, and you let go of his hand, lay back, and push yourself off the wall of the pool and float backwards a little bit. when you look back up, he's staring at you intensely, but he still hasn't moved, so you shrug your shoulders and look towards carrington.
but that small little action makes something click inside of chris, and he's on his feet in an instant. you snap your head towards him, and you watch as he kicks off his shoes, socks following closely behind and a smile erupts over you face as you watch him. you hear nick and matt ask him what he's doing, but he ignores them as his t-shirt comes off next, and he gives you one last look before he dives in. theres a chorus of cheers around you as people notice another body in the pool, and a clap from carrington and jake as chris head reemerges from under the water. you laugh as you look at them, but when you look back to chris his eyes have never once left yours. his hair is wet through, in front of his eyes and already curling up, as he walks towards you. your heart is racing, theres something about this that feels different now. and when he finally reaches you he stops, pushing hair out of his eyes and rubbing at the water in his eyes.
when he's finished, you smile.
"is anything going on between me and carrington?" you repeat his words, and he looks at you intensely. and then you finally move. your hands around his neck immediately, your chest connecting with his as you move closer. this felt exciting, fireworks in your stomach. every single time you'd met up until now had been platonic. friends, who each time got more and more comfortable with each other. but the flirtatious texts had got more and more, the subtle comments on each other instagram posts had got more and more, and the alcohol surging through both of your bodies was giving a lot to answer for.
chris stares at you for a second, before a smile grows on his lips and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you in closer than you already where, and his eyes dropped down to look at your lips.
"thats what i asked" he says, but his voice had gone deeper.
he looks into your eyes and you smirk, a gravity pulling you together as you slowly move your head closer towards him, hands coming up into his hair before he finally closes that gap, his lips crashing against yours. it feels electric. you hate to be cliche but it feels like this has been brewing for so long and its finally happened. you can taste the hot dog he just had on his lips, but you don't care, because you probably taste like beer, and you can feel as his chest rises against yours, his hands slowly but surely sliding down until they cup the underneath of your butt, and you use it as a sign to bring your legs and wrap them around his waist. he smiles into the kiss, and you use it as your queue to let out a chuckle and pull away. you can feel his thumbs under the water caress you, and his eyes looked dazed.
"does that answer your question?" you ask, and he chuckles again, leaning in to pop a quick peck on your lip.
"yeah, it does." he says.
your eyes scan the people around you, and you notice that not a soul has looked in your direction. its like the two of you are wrapped in your own little bubble. when you look back towards him, his eyes are only on you.
"i want to take you home, right now" he whispers.
"do it then" you say back, feeling a little giddy, but he smiles at you and his next words make your heart swell.
"im going to be a gentleman, because i genuinely like you. are you free one day this week, for dinner?"
you smile, your heart beating. you're sure he can feel it against his chest.
"are you asking me on a date, christopher sturniolo?"
he smiles. "i am."
"then yes," you lean in and kiss him once more. "im free everyday this week."
"tomorrow?" he asks. you laugh, throwing your head back.
"tomorrow is good”
"great" he says, and then he spins you around in a circle, holding onto your tightly as you grip onto him even tighter, a laughter escaping the both of you as the world spins by.
all you know on that moment, is that there was something special brewing between you and the blue eyed boy.
didn’t intend for this to have more than one part but i kinda feel this going into a little few part series?? lemme know!
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dontsh0vethesun · 1 month
Text
i’m hungry, i hope you feed me
masterlist
my username used to be just-a-torn-up-masterpiece
natasha romanoff x reader
summary: carol and valkyrie bring you a bottle of an asgardian aphrodisiac, you decide to put it to use
18+: sex potion?, smut; edging, fingering, face riding, oral, overstimulation, slight degradation, masturbation, underwear used as a gag, lots of biting nom nom
a/n: please let me know if you want a part two where valkarol join in too because i’m so tempted 🙏
word count: 2.4k | song for the vibes - ‘desire’ by meg myers
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Carol and Valkyrie sat across from you, recounting their recent visit to Asgard whilst you leisurely sipped on drinks; the conversation was always easy and the four of you had made it a habit to spend your evenings together whenever you could. 
As the evening bled into the night, you were gulping the last mouthfuls of your drinks before you parted ways; Carol reached beneath her seat, pulling a bag into view. 
“So, we brought you a couple of gifts,” she spoke with a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” you returned, eyeing the bag she pushed across the table. 
“We know,” Valkyrie returned. “But we always do. Plus, we know you get sulky if you don’t get a souvenir.” 
“I do not,” you gasped, finding three pairs of questioning eyes peering back at you. “Okay, fine, I like gifts - is that so wrong?” 
“I, for one, think you deserve gifts every single day,” Natasha grinned, poking your side teasingly. 
“Open it then,” Carol groaned, growing impatient with her excitement. 
You eagerly took her command and reached in, grabbing something from the bottom of the paper bag and immediately smiling at the sight of it. 
“Is this what I think it is?” 
“If you think it’s a piece of rock from Aladna, then yes,” Carol laughed, leaning back in her chair as you marvelled at it. 
“You got me space rock - finally.” 
“Well, considering you ask me to bring you some every time I go to space, I figured I’d actually make good on my promise.” 
“The other gift was my idea,” Valkyrie smirked. Natasha reached in this time, wrapping her hand around the neck of a bottle. She peered at the label for a moment before laughing slightly. 
“I’m not sure we need this,” she cockily murmured, handing the glass bottle over to you to read. 
“Don’t knock it before you try it, Nat,” Carol grinned in return. 
“An Asgardian aphrodisiac?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up bashfully. You missed the way the three of them exchanged looks at how adorably shy you can get. 
“It’s strong stuff, have fun ladies,” Carol laughed. 
“And let us know how it goes.” 
— 
Despite agreeing you wouldn’t use it - not any time soon, at least - only a few days later, you were sat with two shot glasses in front of you. Natasha poured the pale pink liquid until they were full to the brim before sitting in front of you on the bed. 
“I have a wager for you,” she murmured, a playful smirk pulling at her lips. You looked at her curiously for her to continue. “A competition to see who can abstain the longest.”
“You’re setting yourself up for a loss already,” you grinned. 
“Mm, I don’t know,” she cooed, stroking the back of her fingers along your cheek to feel how easily they heat up with her attention. “You get pretty desperate. And you’ll be so pathetically eager for my attention - begging me to get you off.”
“Well, what does the winner get?” you huffed, looking away from her before you gave in before the game even began. 
“Total control,” she returned. “If you win, you can do whatever you want with me - I’ll do anything to you that you beg for. And, if I win,” she began, pretending to ponder on her response. “I think I’ll keep that to myself for now.” 
“Then let the best woman win,” you answered, passing her a glass whilst you lifted yours to your lips, waiting to drink the liquor down at the same time. 
— 
Twenty minutes later your back burned against the headboard of the bed; you’d built a wall of pillows between your bodies whilst you distracted yourselves with a movie. 
Every inch of your skin was on fire, your veins pulsed with need. Within thirty minutes, your shirt had been discarded with a petulant huff, hoping to cool off under the light breeze coming through the window. Your core throbbed and begged for some attention - some sort of release - but the smugness on Natasha’s face each time you squirmed in your seat only fuelled your competitive streak. 
The movie wasn’t even halfway through and you’d both stripped down to your underwear to combat the prickling heat the dreaded drink had caused. Natasha’s neck shone with beads of sweat, and you thought of dragging your tongue along her skin to taste it. She was so close that you could pull her into you with ease, pushing her hand between your legs; the desperation made you dizzy. 
She looked over at you when she felt you staring, her eyes dark and lust-blown, pupils wide and cheeks pink. Her breathing faltered beneath her desire and her fists grasped at the sheets to keep herself from touching you. 
“You giving up yet?” she rasped, desperately wishing you would so that this awful competition could be over. 
“No.” Your voice was breathy, it made her need you more. She could see your thighs clenching tightly together, your hips beginning to subtly buck upwards. 
“I can see you need me to touch you,” she mused, licking her lips. “I could make you feel so good, baby. I could give you what you need.”
You let her words linger. The way your cunt throbbed and ached was almost painful, your hand began its descent without any thought. You were so close to bypassing the waistband of your underwear until a hand wrapped itself around your wrist. 
“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” she mocked with a laugh. “Just admit defeat.”
You’d lasted 45 minutes. Surely, that was long enough to keep her from holding this victory over your head. You couldn’t wait a minute more. 
“Fine,” you grumbled, rushing over to plant your knees on either side of her, instantly pushing your clothed cunt against her thigh. You gasped at the mere contact and gave in to the kiss she dragged you into. Never have you felt a kiss so heated with passion, a newfound arousal made for sloppy kisses, teeth clashing and hands groping at anything they could reach. 
You felt as though you were on the brink of combustion, teetering on the edge with just a push against her; each nerve ending in your body was alight, frayed and ready to spark at a mere glimpse of heat. Natasha moaned into your mouth, grinding against your knee as best she could. You could feel the growing dampness of her underwear. 
She pulled you closer and closer to release; your body twitched and bucked with reckless abandon until she pulled away just at the precipice. You whined as she lifted you out of her lap, positioning you on the bed as she shuffled away to kneel before you. 
She kept her eyes on your panting form as she slipped her underwear away from her, putting her soaked cunt on display,
“Don’t think I forgot about our deal, honey,” she breathed, tossing her bra to one side, making a show of the soft pinching of her pert nipples. 
“But I-”
“Mm mm,” she tutted with a shake of her head. “No talking. And no touching.” To keep you silent, she forced her underwear past your lips, and you slackened your jaw to obey. “Patience is a virtue, little slut; good things come to those who wait, so sit back and look pretty, and I’ll fuck you when I’m done.” 
You fisted at the bedsheets to refrain yourself and, despite every muscle begging for the opposite, you kept as still as you could. She wasted no time before her fingers danced over her clit, swollen and sensitive, pulling a grunt of desperate arousal from her throat with the slightest pressure. Her hips rolled, her digits thrust into her core, and her head leaned backwards.  
It was the most desperate you’d ever seen her; a pure ravenous streak coursed through her and you could see it in the fervent movement of her digits. Each rub of her thumb against her made her gasp a moan, and her body flushed deep pink with need. 
You could hear how soaked she was - you could see it dripping to her knuckles - you wanted to wrap your lips around them. A choked moan fell from her lips as she came, you’d never heard her make such a cry of hunger before but it only made you need her more. 
“Fuck, I wanted to make you wait a little longer, but I can’t,” she sighed through heaving breaths. “I’ve never needed you so bad - I feel like I’m starving for you.” 
You couldn’t even utter a reply before her lips were claiming yours, hungry like she was parched and you were her only source of salvation. Your bra and underwear were soon discarded and your skin pressed against hers in a burning heat, the scent of sweat and sex filling the air. She knelt between your legs, trailing her fingers down to swipe through your folds; she smirked against you at how drenched you were and brought the shining digits to her mouth to lick them clean. 
Natasha’s eyes were primal when she looked at you, sparing no time before she shifted on the bed, licking a stripe through your cunt. It was messy and sloppy, each suck to your clit and flick of her tongue; the hand that wasn’t roughly digging into the flesh of your hip was buried between her legs; she practically whined against your sex whilst she humped her own hand with pathetic need.
She felt you near the edge of release and, for her amusement only, she pulled away. She left you hopelessly balancing on the precipice of relief whilst she came again, sinking her teeth into your inner thigh so roughly you’re sure they drew blood.
“Nat, I-“
“No. Just do as I say.”
You obeyed, of course, somehow enduring three more waves of relief being ripped away from your grasp. You ached and your eyes grew tearful with how much you just needed to be allowed to cum. Your jaw ached too from the way your teeth had been tightly clenched, biting into the underwear she decided to shove past your lips again when all you did was whimper and murmur unintelligible grumbles of disapproval. She’d allowed herself the freedom of rutting against her hand, soaking the duvet beneath her, whilst simultaneously leaving you in painful purgatory. She’d lapped at you for so long that your core burned with pain, clenching around nothing with tear-stained cheeks. 
After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away from you completely; her lips were plump and shining with your slick, stray hairs clung to her forehead and the rest was mussed up from the aimless tugging of your hands. 
“Such a pretty little slut,” she mused, panting almost animalistically as she cupped your jaw and pulled her underwear from your mouth. “Such an obedient girl.” The Asgardian elixir still had her pupils wide; both of you continued to thrum with desire, hearts thudding. 
Despite the want for attention between your legs, you couldn’t withhold your excitement when she crawled up your body, gripping onto the headboard as she lowered her cunt to your lips. The taste of her coated your lips immediately, soaked and hot and ready for you to devour. You moaned at the flavour, letting her grind onto your face with mindless pushes of her hips, burying your tongue deep within her. With the way you were so sex drunk, you ached to consume her entirely, dig into her as far as you could until the end of you and the beginning of her was too difficult to distinguish. 
She moaned at the feeling, pulsing around the muscle of your tongue, revelling in any feeling of friction applied to her sensitive bud that she could get. Your lips latched around her, messy and unbecoming and your nails clawed at her thighs whilst your own clenched as tightly as they could. 
“Fuck, you’re doing so good,” she grunted out above you. “Make me cum, baby - God ‘m so close.”
The eager, desirous pleas spurred you on until she came onto your lips. You swallowed down each drop she gave and pressed soft kisses against her as she came down from the high. 
“Nat, I need you, please,” you begged. “I feel like I’m gonna explode.” 
She laughed at your pouted mumbles, kissing along your jaw with bites into the flesh, stroking her fingers down your body until they slid through your folds. The pads of her fingers were instantly soaked, easily pushing into your wanting hole. 
“You’ve been so patient, honey,” she whispered, languidly moving her fingers with the heel of her palm nudging against you. You gasped at the sensitivity, twitching up into her touch. It was soft and gentle; she pampered your abused cunt with tender attention, letting you fall over the edge as soon as you needed to. 
Natasha knew you needed more - even she longed for more despite how many times she’d brought herself to climax - so she kept her attention on you. Your body was littered with marks, anywhere her teeth could reach had grooves and bruises from her bites. She thought of pleasing you forever; staying splayed on the sheets for as long as she lived until you were both worn out and spent. 
The air was filled with sounds of her fingers fucking into you, hoarse moans from the back of your throat and pants for breath like primal animals. The breeze didn’t cool your skin anymore but you were so wrapped up in one another that the sticky warmth didn’t matter.
You came again, and again until you had to push her hand away with a wince at just a ghost of a touch. You needed more but you couldn’t take it, she pulled away with a loving kiss to your lips. 
She crawled from the bed wordlessly, legs wobbling as she padded away, returning moments later with a glass of water for you to share. She took a sip before handing it to you, sitting next to you with kisses pressed against your shoulder as you drank. 
“Carol and Valkyrie are evil,” you grumbled between gulps. 
“I didn’t think I’d still be so horny after all that,” Natasha answered with a laugh. 
“I know,” you sighed with a mirrored chuckle. “How about I return the favour - we can take shifts until it wears off.” 
“Or until we pass out,” she smiled, already dropping the emptied glass to the floor to pull you on top of her.
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roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Mr. Right Now Part 1 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: When Jake picks your ID up from the floor at the Hard Deck, he has no expectations that he's about to be in for a wild ride. But when he learns that you're looking for Rooster and why you're at the bar in the first place, he starts to feel more possessive than he should. You're young and stubborn and about to get yourself into trouble. Maybe he would prefer it if you got into it with him instead.
Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, 18+
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
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It was a typical Friday night with the typical Hard Deck crowd, and to be honest, it was a bit exhausting. Jake knew if he picked up a random girl to take home, it would all feel pretty pointless the next morning. He should probably just head home now before he ruined some desperate girl's night by kicking her out of his bed in about four hours.
"Jesus, it's not even ten o'clock yet," he muttered to himself as he checked his watch. He'd only had one whiskey sour, but he was ready to leave. The two girls in matching pink dresses had been eyeing him up all night, and they both looked like the type who would cry if he suggested getting them an Uber after hooking up, no matter how clear he made it that he only ever kept things very casual.
He hated when girls got it twisted. Jake loved women. He loved their bodies. He loved making promises to them and then delivering. He loved the little noises they made when he fucked them. But that was all he had time for. He wasn't going to meet anyone that made him think it was worth pursuing more when he spent all of his time at work, at the gym, or at a bar full of tag chasers. 
He signaled for Penny to close out his tab, and even she looked surprised. "You're heading out?" she asked, glancing at his friends who were still playing pool with the girls in pink. 
"Yeah," he said with a sigh as he signed his name on the receipt and collected his credit card. "Thinking about an early night and a long run on the beach first thing in the morning."
"Right," she said, giving him a little smile. "Be safe."
He winked at her and turned just in time to see a young woman drop something as she tried to squeeze through the crowd. "Hey!" he called out as he picked up her driver's license and held it up in his hand. "Leather mini skirt!"
You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes questioning as you turned away from the pool table to face him. He watched you look around to make sure nobody else was wearing a black leather skirt before you faced him all the way. 
"Yes?" you asked a little cautiously, and Jake took in the sight before him. You looked pretty young and a little out of place here. You had paired your little skirt with a black tank top and some Converse sneakers, and even though you didn't look like anyone else, you certainly didn't look bad.
Then he remembered he was holding your license, and he glanced down at his hand only to realize it was literally the worst fake ID he had ever seen. Your name was pretty, if that part was even real. The photo actually was you, but it looked like it had been taken in bad lighting, and according to your date of birth, you were thirty just like he was. One more look at your face told him that was a blatant lie.
"This yours?" he asked, holding it up between his thumb and index finger.
You rushed forward, clearly embarrassed, and you tried to take it from him with a muttered, "Thank you."
But he pulled it out of your reach, and your hand grazed his chest instead. "Nice fake, kiddo. Don't get drunk, okay?"
You shot him a look of vexation, clearly having no idea who he was or that he was one of the best fighter pilots in the country. "I'm not here to get drunk, okay?" When you reached for the plastic card again, Jake held it a little higher just to see what you'd do. "Seriously?"
He glanced up and looked at the first and last name once again before saying them out loud. "Then why are you here? And with the world's worst fake ID to boot."
You eyed the card, still out of reach, and placed your hands on your hips. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm actually looking for someone named Rooster, if you happen to know who he is?"
Jake lowered his hand slowly, and you snatched your card back and tucked it inside your little purse. "What do you want with ol' Rooster?" he asked, eyeing you a little closer while you were glancing down. You were cute if not a little too innocent looking for him, but your words once again had him engaged.
"That's classified, sailor. Now do you know who he is or not?"
Jake laughed. "Yeah. I know who he is. But I'm not a sailor. I'm an aviator. Got more air to air kills than anyone else on active duty."
You gave him a bland look. "That must be very nice for you, aviator. But I'm on a bit of a mission here, so if you don't mind..." As you turned back toward the pool table, Jake followed behind you. 
"He's the big one with the mustache and hideous shirt."
You stopped, and he bumped into you, steadying himself with his hands briefly on your shoulders. "Oh," you replied. "Wow. I mean, it's not going to be a problem for me, that's for sure. I just hope he's into it."
Still confused, Jake said, "I wouldn't bother him in the middle of a game of pool unless you come bearing the gift of a beer or a nice set of tits."
You spun around and looked him right in the eye. "What exactly is wrong with my tits?"
"Nothin'," he replied, trying not to look at them in your snug top. "Just trying to give you the lay of the land is all." 
When you glanced over your shoulder, he let his eyes dip down below your neck. Certainly nothing wrong there. "Is that his girlfriend?" you asked, turning back to Jake and jerking your thumb in the direction of Phoenix where she stood near Rooster.
"No," he laughed. "But I'd also avoid interrupting her without a beer or your tits ready to go."
"Well, thanks. You've been very informative. One more question," you said, just inches away from Jake in the crowd. "What kind of beer does this Rooster guy like?"
He studied your face closely. He considered himself something of an expert when it came to women, and things weren't completely adding up for him right now. Your words and posture seemed bold and sure, but your eyes were giving you away. There was a nervousness behind them that made him anxious to get answers from you.
"I'll tell you if you finally answer my question."
"What was your question?"
"Why are you here? And what do you want from Rooster?"
"That's two questions," you said with a smirk, leaning a little closer, and Jake just wanted to wrap his arm around you and yank you all the way in. 
"You're a real smartass, kid. And I like that in a person. But just humor me with an answer, and I'll buy you the beer myself."
Your lips parted as your gaze drifted down to Jake's chest. Every time you blinked, your eyelashes brushed your cheeks, and it was taking all of his willpower to keep his hands off you. With a deep breath, you almost met his eyes as you said, "I'm here to get laid."
Jake cocked his head to one side until you did meet his gaze. Your eyes still looked unsure. "Explain."
You just shrugged. "What is there to explain exactly? I'm looking to have sex."
He closed one eye and squinted. He could have sworn he only had one drink, but nothing was making sense right now. "With Rooster?"
"Yes. I'm going to try to get him to take me home."
Jake burst into laughter, and you took a small step away from him. "You're not going to have to try very hard, I can tell you that much for sure." You were actually cute as hell; any guy you had your sights set on would be ready to leave at the mere mention of such activities. 
"That's what I'm hoping for," you muttered before pressing your lips together.
"Wait, wait," Jake asked with his hands held up in front of his chest in surrender. "Why Rooster?"
You looked a little embarrassed now as you switched your bag from one hand to the other. "My friend told me he was good in bed," you muttered.
"I am so confused," Jake replied, pushing his fingers through his hair. By this point, you were starting to look annoyed, and he didn't want to push, but he wanted to know. If you were going to parade around the Hard Deck in a mini skirt with a fake ID, he needed to know that you were okay. "You're young and attractive. Why did you come here of all places to acquire a hot fuck?" And that's when he got the answer that surprised him as you finally snapped. 
"Because, if you must know, I'm a disgrace of a twenty-year-old virgin, and I'm trying to get Rooster to take care of that for me."
"What?" Jake's mind was reeling. He looked from you to the aviator at the pool table and then at your face once more. Then he jerked back a step. A virgin. Huh. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen one this close up before. Not around here, anyway. And, frankly you were hot enough that it did surprise him a bit, even though you were young. 
"You heard me," you muttered, playing with your skirt. "Don't make it into a big thing." You shook your head and glanced toward the bar. "What kind of beer does he like? It looks like he has a bottle of Stella."
You were definitely nervous right now, and Jake didn't like that one bit. "Oh, no. You don't want to hook up with Rooster."
"Yes," you insisted, clutching your little purse now. "I do. Because he won't even have to know about any of it. He'll just fuck me. And then I can get on with my life."
When you took a step toward the bar, Jake reached out for your hand. "He's drunk. You want your first time to be with someone who won't have the mental capacity to make sure you enjoy yourself, too? Make sure you come?"
Instead of pulling your hand free, you stopped and looked at the place where your fingers were connected with his. "I'm not worried about coming. I just want to get this over with."
Gently he pulled you closer until your chest bumped his, and then Jake took your chin carefully between his thumb and index finger. "How old are you, really?"
"I'm twenty."
He stroked your lip with his thumb. It was soft and plump and more than kissable. "Twenty," he echoed. "That's not too old, you know." 
You smirked. "Thanks. But I'm just trying to be sensible here. I don't need to be in love or anything like that. I'd rather have the experience. Rather get it out of the way so it doesn't hurt when I'm with the guy who keeps asking me out. And this way I'll know what to do."
Once more he touched his thumb to your lip and said, "Show me your real ID."
"Why?" you asked, frowning as his hand fell away. "That was my actual name on the one you saw."
"Just humor me, kid," he said firmly, holding out his hand. If you were only eighteen or even younger, he was going to have to ask you to leave or maybe even get Penny involved before you did go home with one of these horny assholes. 
With a huff, you handed it to him. According to the real one, you lived in San Diego. You turned twenty about two months ago. And that really was your name. "When you get a fake, you're supposed to fake the name, too. Everyone knows that. You're in college?"
You snatched it from him and tucked it away with the other one. "Yes, I'm in college."
"Then why the hell are you here right now?" he asked. "You want to lose your virginity so bad tonight? Go stand outside a dorm, and the guys will be lining up for a cute thing like you."
The annoyance and apprehension left your face and were replaced by something different. "Do you really think that's a better alternative than a slightly tipsy, attractive man in his 30s? Because I do not. I'm going for Rooster. But thanks for calling me cute."
Jake was getting so used to your smirk that as soon as you turned away from him again, he missed it. You were heading off toward Bradshaw, and for some wild reason, he was just unwilling to let you do this with him. Rooster wouldn't ask if you were a virgin, and you certainly wouldn't tell him. It might be good for you, and it might not, but Jake thought you should at least be with someone who would try.
"No no no no." He had his hands around your waist, pulling your back against his front. "It's not happening," he muttered next to your ear. "I can call a ride for you, or I can drive you home myself, but that's not going to happen."
You spun around and glared at him. "You said I was cute. I can handle this."
Jake sighed and tipped his face toward the ceiling for a beat as he held you in place with his hands at the middle of your back. "Not with any of those guys," he practically growled through gritted teeth. "I don't know how to make myself any more clear."
You weren't struggling in his grasp, and he knew he should let you go anyway, but he wanted you to agree to letting him get you an Uber. But then you leaned in a little closer with a glint in your eye and asked, "Who's going to do it then? You?"
"Me?" he asked, wide eyes slowly drifting down to your lips. He could feel the leather of your skirt against his pinky as his fingers flexed with the need to keep you close. He could smell your skin and see your pupils growing wider. Your softly parted lips were right there.
You nodded slowly and said, "I mean... I don't even know your name, but I'm sure you could show me the ropes, aviator."
He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm Jake," he said, his voice lower and needier than he anticipated. "And I need you to tell me what you're going to do if I say no."
Your smirk was back. "Well, Jake the aviator, if you say no, then I'll go ask Rooster and keep my fingers crossed that he's into it."
It wasn't that Jake wasn't keen on the idea of getting his hands all over you, because he was. And that was the problem. He wasn't any better than the rest of the guys. Not really. He didn't deserve to get to have you. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he'd make it good. He wouldn't hurt you or do anything you didn't welcome. And he wouldn't kick you out after a few hours. 
"It's a bad idea," he said, and then your lips were on his. You caught him off guard, and after that one gentle kiss, you started to pull away. Your eyes were wide and innocent, and he couldn't stop himself. He chased you for another taste, and it was the sweetest thing he could ever remember. Your hand crept up to rest on his chest as he drew your tentative lips back to his, pulling you snug against his body. Soft kiss after soft kiss left his nose bumping against yours as he whispered, "I said it's a bad idea."
Then you were kissing him again. Harder this time. Your hand went around the back of his neck, and he took a palm full of leather as he squeezed your ass. Oh shit. You were a nice handful for him. Honestly, he could get hard for you right here, and now you surely felt it as he rolled his hips forward against yours. 
And then you moaned into his mouth as your fingers slipped up into his hair, and Jake knew it was hopeless. You nibbled on his lip before you pulled a few inches away, looked at him with desire filled eyes, and whispered, "I think it might be a good idea."
"God damn it."
------------------------
Is Jake actually any better than the rest of the horny guys? Is this a bad idea or a good idea? The problem is Jake likes stubborn girls who give him a hard time. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
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1K notes · View notes
textmel8r · 4 months
Text
[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.
୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro
୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity
୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo
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You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”
You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try. 
The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”
“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”
You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”
Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”
“Some would call me experienced, yes.”
His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”
“Say what again?”
“Steak au whatever.”
You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”
Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”
“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”
“Any more French, you mean?”
He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak. 
“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. 
Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”
“No way,” you chortle.
“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”
The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail. 
“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”
He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”
“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.
“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”
You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”
“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.
“Toji, honey, are you alright?”
What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?
“Can we fuck now?”
“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”
Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t wanna talk about work.”
“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”
He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in. 
A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.
Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance. 
God, you won't even look at him.
Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”
You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.
“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”
It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.
This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips. 
At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him. 
“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.
You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.
He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.
“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“I trust you, too, Toji.” 
He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around. 
Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.
He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.
Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” 
The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.
“No marks, I’ve got work.”
His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now. 
“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.
“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other. 
“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle. 
“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”
And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”
You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”
His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”
Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline. 
“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”
You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”
You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”
“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”
He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.
Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.
Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.
“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”
Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.
It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.
Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.
Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”
He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.
“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”
He’s good.
“You’re so good.”
“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.
Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”
“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.
The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.
Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.
He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.
“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”
“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.
“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.
Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.
His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.
“You alright?”
A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.
“Answer me, please.”
Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.
“You’re filthy.”
He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”
You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”
You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”
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reidmania · 1 month
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in between | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot masterlist.
part one, part two, part three
summary; after being together for two months, you and spencer had yet to go further than making out, until now.
warnings; 18+ mdni, soft dom spencer, no actual sex. fingering, slightly inexperienced reader, a tiny bit more experienced spencer, mentions of bad sexual relations in the past, references longer hair on reader
an; i suck at writing smut so i refuse to be held responsible for this cause ik i asked but u guys really gave me no choice ‘100% for yes part 3 should have smut’ MY ASS. y’all hate me and want me to die.
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‘She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this, there's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss. He hates it when she's crying, he hates when she's away, even at their worst, they know they'll still be okay.’
<>
In the two months that you and Spencer had been together you had seen him four times. Which was a disgustingly low amount, you both hated it — That wasn’t a question, but with him working so much and you living in a different state, you both did your best.
You saw him on weekends when you could, when he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes he would take a day trip to see you, just to get coffee or go to the library together. He never didn’t make an effort, anytime you two could see each other, you did.
Like now, Spencer knew it was almost silly to celebrate two months together in an extravagant way, but it gave him the perfect excuse to see you — Not that he needed one, but he wasn’t gonna waste it either way.
He had made it very clear to Hotch that if a case came up, or if anyone from the team called him — He wouldn’t be answering, after the two of you had been interrupted one time you came to stay at his place, he got a call about a case, by the time he got home you had already left due to the time of your flight.
He refused to have that happen again, not this time.
You had got to the airport maybe an hour ago, he was there to meet you just like every other time. Now, you were sitting on his sofa, legs crossed as you rested your head on his shoulder, some documentary playing on the tv. A lot of the time you spent together was like this — just enjoying one another’s presence while you had it.
Spencer arm was over your shoulder, his fingertips drawing soft shapes on your arms which left goosebumps in their trail, their movements never faltered.
“Hey” He said gently, as if not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you. You turned your head, still rested on his shoulder but now looking up at him.
“Hello” You said back, the same soft tone, the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a smile. Your eyes held his gaze, your stomach full of something so familiar. Something you felt every time he was around you— Anytime you heard his voice. Comfort, warmth, safety. All of the same sort.
He smiled back, then as if he couldn’t help it his head lent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, only causing your smile to widen. He pulled away to reposition slightly so he could look at your face better. “I wanna take you out” He said gently.
You hummed, eyebrow raising a little in curiosity. It wasn’t that you and Spencer didn’t go on dates, you did. Bookstore, library, cafe, flower shop, bakery’s. All the soft romantic things you both adored to do together, although by the way he spoke you assumed he had something different in mind.
“Do you?” You teased lightly.
He nodded, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, your cheeks flushed at the motion. He did that a lot, the small soft kisses as if it was just habit. You adored those.
“I do. Tonight, is that okay with you?”
He asked, and you smiled.
A soft nod came, before you were speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t have anything nice to wear” You mumbled gently. You packed everything comfortable, you had nice things, but not like extremely nice, nothing fancy.
He shook his head gently, free arm that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder coming up to brush gentle hairs away from your forehead. “Thats okay, We can get you something, or we can go in pyjamas, make a statement” He mumbled out, a playful smile on his lips as his forehead bumped yours gently.
You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. The same playful smile on your lips mirroring his. Your forehead came to nudge his back. “Mm, don’t hate me” You hummed, smiling gently. His head tilted in curiosity of what you were going to say.
“I didn’t pack pyjamas.” You admitted, the last few times you had been here you ended up wearing one of Spencer’s shirts to bed anyways, so you ultimately decided this time there was no point even bringing your own.
He smiled, knowingly, understanding why you didn’t, but then he huffed out playfully, tsking gently as he shook his head. “You had one job, one. job.” He mumbled, faux disappointment lacing his tone only making your smile widen.
“Whoops?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.
He let out a snort at your half assed fake guilt, his hands came down to grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sides of your skin making you squeal gently and squirm under his touch. Your hands came down to grip his wrists, trying to tug them away from your side.
After a moment, he gave in, letting you push his hands away, to which you instead interlaced your fingers, holding them up in front of you. “I hate when you do that” You huffed out. You did partly, but not enough to actually be upset about it.
He raised his eyebrow, squeezing your hand gently. “Do you now?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, nodding. He knew it, you knew he did because you told him every-time he did it. For some reason he just enjoyed making you squirm, watching you get frustrated for a total of three seconds before it all turned playful again.
“You know I do” You muttered. You turned slightly so you were facing him, your gaze held his and any doubt you could possibly have washed away just by the look of love and admiration in his eyes.
“Okay, I wont do it again” He said softly, his hands pulled away from yours to instead gently cradle your jaw in his hands, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your lips.
You knew he would do it again, and you were okay with that.
Spencer realised he had made a mistake. A big mistake.
Buying you a dress, wasn’t the mistake but thinking his thoughts would stay innocent when seeing you in it was. He had let you pick out whatever dress you wanted, insisting on paying for it, he let it remain a surprise. Keeping his gaze away as you used his card to pay for it until it was hidden away in a bag.
Now, seeing you standing in his bathroom, the dress on, your hair falling perfectly to frame your face and your smile. He was having a hard time focusing. He leant against the door frame as he watched you fix your hair.
He wondered if it was possible for you to be any more perfect.
Then you made eye contact with him in the mirror and raised your hand to wave gently, and he decided it was.
The entire night was perfect, any time with you was, but tonight it was exactly what he wanted it to be. The place the two of you went to was fancy but not extreme, the two of you ate and joked throughout the entire time and Spencer knew he was in love with you.
He had always known that, but the words begged to leave his lips more then ever when you were sitting in the passenger seat in his car, using a plastic water bottle as a microphone as you sung out the song playing on the radio as he drove the two of you back to his place.
At a red light, he turned to look at you. You were busy peeling off the wrapper around the water bottle to notice, a small thing that made his heart warm. His gaze dropped down to your thigh, one his hands moving to rest on top of it, then his eyes were stuck on the way it had ridden up your thigh as you were sitting and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
His hand rested against your thigh innocently, although his thumb moved to tuck under the hem of your dress slightly, rubbing the skin there soothingly. Your eyes moved from the bottle to his hand, then to his face.
He had turned back to the road now, when the light had gone green, he could see you looking at him in his peripheral. He was trying to remain calm but he felt as if the car temperature increase massively in seconds.
“You’re pretty” You mumbled out and he knew he was done.
His gaze flicked from the road to your face. A smile on his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if maybe he should pull over because he was struggling to pull his eyes away from your face.
“You’re pretty.” He said back, his gaze flicking back to the road as he turned down the street his house was on, thankful in a few seconds he would no longer have to worry about crashing the car because he was too focused on you.
You hummed, scrunching up your nose slightly at his compliment. He was pulling into his driveway and you were turning your body to face him in the passenger seat. “Im serious. You are really pretty.”
He smiled as he put the car in park, he undid his seatbelt before mirroring your actions turning to face you. “Im serious too. You are also really pretty.” He said in the same tone as you, before he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. His hand left your thigh to instead rest against your jaw, fingertips curling into your hair.
You hummed into the kiss, your hands coming to either side of his neck. Your heart burst at the feeling of his lips warm and gentle against yours the feeling of his cool hands pressing against your warm cheeks.
Your hand left his neck in order to undo your seatbelt, and reposition slightly so you could lean in closer while still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands trailed from your jaw to the back of your head, cradling it as his fingers tangled in your hair, encouraging you closer to him.
After a moment, his lips pulled away from yours but he stayed close, hands remaining in place and his forehead rested against yours as he spoke almost breathlessly, in a way that made your heart beat quicken. “We- We should go inside.” He said.
You nodded, “We should.” You said in the same breathless tone. He stayed in place for a moment just looking into your eyes before he nodded again, pulling back in order to open the car door.
Then he was out, walking around to open the door for you. You smiled as you took his hand, he closed the door once you were out and his hands then moved to your waist, staying close behind you as the two of you walked to the door.
He huffed out when he had to pull his hand away in order to pull his keys out of his pocket, his chest pressed against your back as he leant in to unlock the door after fumbling to find the right key for a moment. His hand moved to press against your stomach as he did so, holding you close against him.
When you were inside he loosened his grip slightly, walking to the kitchen he freed his pockets of his wallet and phone, and keys, he left them all on the kitchen counter before his eyes looked back at you.
You were wandering towards his bedroom, he smiled at the sight before he was following you. He walked fast in order to catch up, hands gripping your hips making you jump in shock, you turned your head to look at him.
“That was mean- Don’t do that” You huffed out, he grinned, his hand moving from your hip to the side of your cheek in order to turn your face more towards him, then he was kissing you again.
You allowed it for a moment, before your neck began to cramp at the uncomfortable positioning. You turned so you were facing him, chest pressed against his as your hands came to rest on either side of his jawline.
His hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you against him while his other hand, re-tangled in your hair. Then his feet were stumbling toward and yours back as he led you both blindly to his bedroom. His hand left your back to push the door open.
His tongue pressed against your bottom lip searching for entrance, your lips parted as his hands moved to press against the back of your thigh, your arms moved to wrap around your neck.
His lips left for a moment, but stayed close so you could feel them moving as he spoke quietly and breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful” He said as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, pulling you upwards so he was holding you, your legs wrapping around his torso.
You hummed and then leant back in to press your lips against his again, this time there was no build up, it was instantly more messy than it had been any other time, desperate, yet soft.
He walked to the bed, not breaking the kiss as his tongue mapped out your mouth, as if trying to memorise it. He got on his knees on the soft foam of the mattress, laying you down on your back, lips never leaving yours as his hands came to rest on either side of your head, cradling you in.
Normally, this is where the two of you would stop. Any other time he would roll off and make a comment or offer to put on a movie, read to you, make you coffee or something. Yet his lips stayed against yours as he remained on his knees in between your thighs that had remained parted once he laid you down.
His hands trailed down to your shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the strap of your dress softly so it draped down the curve of your shoulder. He pulled away, leaning back to look at your face.
His eyes trailed down every feature, the way your lips had gone slightly puffy and red from the kiss, the way your cheeks were flush, hair a mess, eyes lidded, it made his heartbeat increase.
“Is this okay?” He asked, voice quiet and husky in a way that made your stomach swell with nerves. His fingertips brushed over the empty space of your collarbone and shoulder where the strap had fallen from.
You nodded, looking up at him. He smiled gently and leant down to press a trail of gentle kiss down your jaw, then he moved down your neck, his hand moving to the other strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder.
“Spencer” You mumbled out, looking down at him as his kisses trailed down to your collarbone, hand coming to rest on either side of your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes and you swore your heart stopped.
He looked at you, his lips pressed against your skin, you felt his breath as he mumbled out a gentle ‘Mhm?’ In response.
You were at a loss for words honestly, eyebrows furrowed in deep focus, this was new, with Spencer it was new. You hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t gone past making out, you hadn’t even really talked about it.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did. You were just nervous.
He noticed your silence and pulled away to sit up, looking down at you. You instantly missed the feeling of his lips on your skin and the close proximity of his body against yours. His fingers ran gently down the side of your waist as his eyes stayed trained on your face, searching for what had you so choked up.
“We can stop.” He said gently, he wanted you to be comfortable and the last thing he would ever want you to do is feel pushed or pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. You shook your head.
You didn’t want to stop, actually you really wanted to keep going.
“I still have my shoes on” You stated quietly. instead. He paused for a moment, before he let out a gentle laugh, nodding his head as he shuffled away in order to take off your shoes for you.
“You still have a lot on” He mumbled out under his breath but you caught it and it made your cheeks warm. You perched yourself up onto your elbow to watch him as he pulled your shoes off your feet, dropping them at the end of the bed before kicking off his own.
Then he was pulling his suit jacket off, and undoing the first few buttons of the white dress shirt he had been wearing before he was leaning back up to press another gentle kiss on your lips.
“You’re quiet” He said, taking note of it. You shrugged your shoulders. You were nervous, you had a lot going through your head and that mixed with his hands on your body and the sight of him made you rather nervous and a little light headed.
You looked up at him, “Is that bad?” You asked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had sex before, you had, just not.. Good sex. It was with a guy you dated for a short while who had very little care for anything other than his own pleasure, and before that when you were freshly 18 and graduating.
Neither were very good.
He hummed, leaning up to brush hair away from your face. “You tell me, sweet girl. You okay?” He asked. He wanted you comfortable, feeling good, if you weren’t then there was no point in doing it.
You nodded again, “Im okay- Not a bad thing.” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away. He moved down to rest on his heels between your thighs.
You watched him, “Can we take this off?” He asked as his finger tips hooked under the hem of your dress. You nodded again, he smiled and lowered himself a little to press a soft kiss against your stomach over the fabric of the dress before his hands bunched the ends of it to pull it up over your stomach, then you were tugging your arms out of the straps and sitting up as Spencer pulled it off over your head.
His eyes trailed over your body and you swore the house had gotten too warm. Your head was spinning as you watched his face, his eyes as they trailed over every aspect of you.
“You’re- My gosh. You’re beautiful, you are so beautiful” He mumbled, it seemed like it was more to himself than it was to you but it made you smile and feel a little less revealed.
“My socks are still on.” You said, uncomfortably away of everything touching you at the moment, the way the bedsheets felt under your back, the way your undergarments sat almost uncomfortably uncovered, the only thing seemly comfortable was Spencers hands.
He was the one to nod this time, he leant down to rest on his stomach in between your thighs, pressing gentle kiss to the plush skin of your thighs as his hands rested over them, rubbing softly over the skin. “I know” He mumbled out against the skin of your thigh.
You huffed, leaning back up on your elbows in order to look at him. “Isn’t it like a thing? That people don’t have socks on during sex” You mumbled the thing you had heard around, you couldn’t pin point where you had heard it from but you knew it was talked about.
He hummed, trailing soft kisses against your thigh, hands pushing them gently more apart. “Would you like me to take them off” He asked, voice muffled against your skin, you huffed.
“I don’t know. Why haven’t you?” You asked, wondering if there was a specific reason for him removing every other aspect of your clothing, besides your underwear, and just leaving your socks on.
He hooked his finger under the hemming of your underwear, his eyes flickering away as he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for consent to take them off. You nodded gently.
He placed another kiss to your thigh before he was pulling your underwear down. “Studies have shown that wearing socks during sex can help with better orgasms. Cause of your blood circulation” He mumbled out softly as he tapped your knee, you lifted your legs up so he could pull your underwear the rest of the way off before tossing them somewhere in the room, your legs returning spread around him.
“Really?” You asked gently, voice hitching as his hand came to rest against your inner thigh, pushing it open a little more to allow him better access. He hummed and nodded.
His fingers brushed gently over where you needed him the most, his focus completely on you and making you feel good as his fingers rubbed gently over the wet folds. He relished in the way you breath hitched.
“When your feet are cold, your body signals a fight or flight response, it sends the blood to your feet rather than anywhere else. When your body is warm-” His thumb moved to rub soft circles over your clit, his eyes flicking upwards to search for your search. A soft smile on his face when he watched your lips part and your eyes flutter shut.
“When your body is warm, you are instantly more relaxed and more comfortable, your feet are always gonna get cold first, so if they are warm, chances are the rest of your body will be warm as well. Then you get more blood flow where you need it, right here” He mumbled out, one finger presses gently and slowly into you making your eyes squeeze shut and your legs threaten to close.
He let out a soft laugh, pushing your thighs to remain open. “That feel good?” He asked, almost teasing you. You opened your eyes to glare at him, making him only laugh again.
“You don’t have your socks on.” You pointed out, breath shaky as you spoke, his finger moving slowly eyes focused on your face and every little reaction.
He nodded, “I don’t think I’m gonna have any issue.” He smiled. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled back before he pressed a second finger into you.
“Y-You think I will?” You asked, voice wavering as you tried to continue the conversation but honestly your mind was fading in and out of focus as you felt yourself clench around Spencer’s fingers.
He shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. “No, I am pretty confident” He mumbled out, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers curled, a soft sound leaving your lips at the feeling. He only grinned wider. “But I don’t wanna take any chances. If it helps, then it helps, if it doesn’t then it doesn’t. Just want you to feel as good as possible.” He said gently, his fingers pumping up into you.
You hummed, moving off your elbow to rest on your back. Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan passed through your lips when you felt his fingers curl upwards against your g spot. He realised pretty quickly and continued his movements hitting that spot.
“Are you okay?” He checked in again, as his thumb came up to nudge your clit again, his fingers still curling against you. You hummed out in response as your back lifted slightly off the bed. He let out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach.
“I was thinking about getting a cat” You huffed out. You knew it was probably the worst time to bring it up but the way your body was tensing as the knot in your stomach tightened it made you feel like you needed to relax your mind a little, and there was no better way to do that then to talk as if Spencer’s weren’t curling inside you.
He snorted as he looked up at you. “Have you now?” He understood the need to deflect. He was smart enough to know when things got intense in your body, calming your mind was helpful.
You let out a soft ‘mhm’ Followed by a small sound. “I wanna name it teddy.” You huffed out, chest rising and falling heavily as the tension in your stomach built, you could feel it in your thighs.
He smiled, “I cannot believe you are talking to me about cats when I am fingering you.” He mumbled out, his tone teasing and playful as the speed of his fingers increased.
You cringed at his words, “Thats so graphic Spence. Don’t say it like that” You huffed, squirming slightly as the pressure rose between your legs, you clenched subconsciously around Spencer’s fingers. His thumb flicked your clit gently, a playful grin on his lips as he watched you gasp.
“Sorry. How else would you like me to describe whats happening here?” He mumbled gently as he leant down to kiss your inner thigh, the pace of his fingers increasing the tighter you clenched around him, he could tell you were getting closer and he was making it his prime goal to get you there while keeping your pretty mind relaxed, even if that meant talking about cats.
You hummed, a gentle moan rolling off your lips. “Just- Don’t” You huffed, as your back arched in order to press yourself further against him. His fingers curled as your thighs got tense and begged to close, he had to hold them open.
He smiled. His focus now on making you finish. His fingers curled over your g spot repeatedly while his thumb moved against your clit, in circular motions.
“Spence.” You mumbled his name breathlessly, almost like a warning and his understood instantly, he continued his movements before he heard you moan, and then you clenched around him and gushed over his fingers.
He continued his movements a little slowly throughout your orgasm, enough to keep you going without overwhelming or overstimulating you. He pressed an abundance of gentle kisses against your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.
After a moment, his fingers pulled out of you. He kissed up your stomach. “Are you okay?” He asked again. Eyes trailing over your face, cheeks red and eyes closed, soft harsh breaths left your parted lips. You looked beautiful and Spencer wanted to tell you that a million times and more.
“Yes.” You exhaled, peeling your eyes open to look at him, “Thank you.” You mumbled, leaning up. He smiled and met you half way in order to press a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling back.
“Im gonna go get a rag okay, clean you up.” He mumbled out gently into your ear. You nodded half processing his words, your mind a bit of a mess as your focus was purely set on calming yourself down.
When you felt him leave the bed, you looked at him. “Wait.” You mumbled out, lifting yourself to sit up a little. He turned to face you, eyes trailing over your face to search for any indication that maybe something was wrong.
“Whats up sweetheart?”
You huffed out, looking up at him. There was a sort of blissed out expression on your face. “I love you” You said. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You loved him, whether he loved you back yet or not. You loved him and you wanted him to know.
His features softened, a soft smile on his lips as your words settled in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Acutely aware of everything; yet only focused on you.
“I love you.” He replied in the same sort of tone, certain, no question about it.
You smiled, “Okay- You can go now” You mumbled, laying back in bed now allowing him to go get a cloth to clean you up, you knew you’d have to get up to pee in a minute, but you figured that could wait.
He snorted, “Thanks for your permission” He smiled, You nodded, closing your eyes as a gentle exhale left your mouth.
He loved you. You loved him, you never wanted that to change and you didn’t believe it ever could.
911 notes · View notes
smutallyouwant · 9 days
Text
Twice One-Shot World chp. 3
Premium Sex Doll
Word Count: aprroximately 3k words
Momo x M Reader
You're a struggling young adult, you got a job that doesn't even suffice for your needs. One day a business man came to your house and offered you a deal that you can't say no to.
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Includes: Rape role play
" Fuck my life, my work at the convenient store only pays me enough for my food and rent. I don't even have some extra money to have some fun, bro " you said on the phone.
" Man, maybe if you followed your mom to the States maybe your life would be better "
" Fuck her too, since my dad died she got a new partner and left me. Yes I decided not to go to the States with her because I don't like her having another man " you answered.
" Some luck will surely come for you, don't give up " your friend answered.
*knock knock knock
" Thanks bro, someone is at the door. So bye now "
You walked out of your bed and opened the door of your apartment. A man in a suit suddenly asked if he may come in. You're skeptical at first but what can he get from you if he robbed your house? Nothing, so you let him in and closed the door.
" Please sit down sir, I can only offer you water sorry " you said.
" Don't bother this talk will be short and you can't say no to this "
-The next day came-
*beep beep
A truck pulled over in front of your apartment and brought a big wooden box inside your apartment.
" here's your package sir, we just need you to sign up here "
You signed the paperwork and they left. You opened the box and you lifted a doll wearing white top and white shorts. The man yesterday offered you half a million dollars to try out their sex dolls. They are made with artificial materials similar to silicone but the texture is much more improved and it simulates human skin and flesh. Only 10 of these are contributed around the world. They examined their test runners carefully so that they will not be caught by the law, as their production is illegal. They prefer not so prominent people. But in exchange you have to give up your current job. You accepted and they gave you half the money straight to your bank before leaving.
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" Hell, this doll is crazy beautiful. Do I really get to have sex with this? "
You opened the instructions, it said that it needed to be charged but it was delivered full of battery. It said that it has voice control you just need to say " Momo " before the command. The instructions said " Say, Momo, open to activate"
" Momo, Open " you said.
" Good morning master "
" Wwwwoooo " you shouted.
You were shocked that it said a word and also moved like a person towards you. The doll puts its arms on your shoulders.
" You can command me anything , master"
" Call me, Momo " she added.
" Momo, stand still "
Momo stood there and her arms returned to neutral. You're still shocked at this point, you pressed her shoulder and grabbed one of her boobs and it feels just like a real human. On this point you're aroused, you begin sniffing its shoulders and her scent is as sweet as a flower. It's been so long since you did this to a woman and it made you more excited.
You started kissing her neck while groping her ass and boobs. But something is missing.
" Momo, you can move now and moan for me " you commanded.
Momo hugged your neck and her other arm is caressing your face. She also closed the gap between her waist and yours to grind your bulge into her shorts.
" Ugh, master that feels so good "
" Call me Y/N " you said
"yess Y/N, does Momo taste good? "
" Yes Momo, you're so fucking good " you answered.
Her lips are so plump and cute that you decided to take a taste. You slammed your mouth into hers and sloppily kissed Momo. Momo does have some automated actions when taking part in sex activity. It is stated in the manual. She started caressing your bulge and she also kissed your neck. As she does so you removed your pants and underwear.
" Momo, suck my cock. Suck it good "
You lead her to the bedroom and you sit on the bed. She spits on your throbbing cock and licks it wildly before taking it all in her mouth.
" UGHH " you moaned as she does a fellatio on your hard long cock.
" Yes take it like a good girl "
" mmhgh, mmh, mmh " moans are escaping through her mouth.
She is looking at you all this time, and you started pounding her throat but she takes it like nothing.
*golk golk golk golk
You started to forget that she's a doll and thinks of her as a woman that you can fuck all you want.
" Fuck! What a slut taking it all like nothing "
Momo smiled as you dumped all your cum inside her throat. Momo stood up and sat on you as she kissed you deep.
" Ughh, can you go again Y/N? Momo need a rough fucking "
" Of course, but now call me baby "
" Yes baby " she answered.
You pushed her into the bed as you planted your tongue into her mouth. You made out and you began removing her top off, revealing a good set of tits with pink nipples. You sucked the hell out of the good pair and Momo hugged your neck.
" Yes baby suck my tits good, ugh "
You moved down and removed her shorts and underwear revealing a pinkish red slit.
" Fuck what a good food "
You fucking ate her pussy good, she wrapped her legs to your neck and held your head with her palm.
" Ughhh, babyyy you eat pussy so good "
" Suck my clitoris right there "
You sucked and played with it with your mouth and she began shaking violently. She squirted on your face as she shakes.
" UGHHHHH " she shouted.
" Sorry baby I ended up squirting on your face because you're so good at eating pussy"
You did not answer and you just inserted your dick inside her pussy. Momo can adjust her insides depending on the dick of the user, ensuring the best pleasure. You fucked her like a wild animal as you're too horny from her squirting on your face.
" Ughh baby, you'll make me cum again " she whined.
" Here's your reward for squirting at my face slut "
" Yes baby I'm your only slut, fuck this pussy harder ughh "
Her face is so seductive and it shows how good she feels. You felt more pleasure as her pussy adjusted on your dick. She started licking your nipples adding pleasure while you ram her.
" Baby fill me up with your cum, make a baby with me "
You forgot that she can also detect if the user is cumming so her pussy started to grip your dick harder.
" Fuckk here's my cum you slut " you pulled out your dick and you came into her face.
" Here's my revenge " you added.
She took the cum with her finger and licked it while looking at you.
" Ugh baby, I said you should fill me up but it's alright your cum tastes good "
" Oh I'm not done " you said.
You positioned her near the edge of the bed while in a supine position exposing her chest and toned abs.
" Momo, open your mouth and show me your tongue"
As she does so, you aligned your dick to her mouth and fucked her throat like there's no tomorrow. You grabbed both her tits as your leverage, you spit on her nipples and played with it with your finger. Momo reached down her pussy and started fingering.
"You're a naughty little slut, are you Momo? "
She responded with wild moans as you grope and played with her boobs while destroying her throat. She uses her 2 fingers to fuck her pussy with the other arm played with her clitoris. The scene made you wanna cum so bad.
" Here's my cum, take it Momo "
You grabbed her waist and planted your dick deep into her throat. Momo came again and this time she squirted into your bed. You grabbed her by the neck and pushed her head towards the wet part of the bed. Her ass is now exposed as her waist is bent down.
" Lick your piss you slut, taste it "
Momo started licking the bed sheets. As she makes out with the bed sheet passionately you inserted your dick again and started pumping inside her pussy.
" mmmmhhh ,mmhhh, " she moaned pleasurably as you pushed her more to the bed that muffled her cries.
You suddenly grabbed her hair and pulled it causing her to squeal. Your other hand grabbed her by the neck and choked her as hard as you could. Her moans are replaced by cries for aid to breath. Momo can't feel pain but she'll stimulate the effects of such inflicted pain on her. She tears and her tongue is exposed now. As you're finishing you let go of her neck causing her to lay her head flat on the we sheets and breath for air as you shoot your cum inside her. You looked at her as she is like a poor girl licking the bed sheets.
You finished by unloading the cum inside her tank and cleaning her. You cleaned your room and an idea came to your mind.
Her wardrobe included in her box has many types of dress and styles to pick. And it also has many hair styles included. You charged her for the rest of the day and woke her up at night.
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" What, where am I and who are you? " Momo asked.
Before this happened you told her to dress up like a nerdy school girl that knows nothing about how he ended up inside your house. You always thought that your rape kink is weird but now you get to try it. You told her to fight back in the start and slowly be submissive as the time went by.
" Oh you suddenly went inside here and you're not going to get out " you said.
" Oh sorry, I'm heading out now " she answered.
You pulled her arm. Her scaredness is very evident as she is shaking and her voice.
" Sorry sorry, please let me out "
You threw her bag to the side and grabbed both her wrist, pushed her to the wall and started kissing her neck aggressively.
She started crying and struggled from your body weight as you push your body towards her.
" Please stopp, I need to go home now " her voice trembles.
You ignored her pleas and started groping her chest. Her arm attempted to push you back but you're just too overwhelming.
" Your chest is so big for a high schooler like you, don't you think? "
You palmed her mouth forcing her into a kiss. She hits you with her hands while your tongue slides inside her mouth and you start sucking her tongue out. Her hands stopped hitting your chest and it rests on your shoulders now. She unconsciously fought back with your mouth and tongue movements. Your fingers wiped off some of her tears as you're making out. The student's crying eyes shut down as her body gave in to your seduction. Her hands caress your body as you grope her breasts more . You gently move towards the bed pulling her and pushing her down to kneel at the floor. You dropped your shorts down and you placed her hand on your dick. Her cries became gazes of lust as she stroked your shaft. You held her face and moved it closer to your dick causing her to suck on it like a lollipop. Her blowjob is sloppy as she simulates a student who doesn't do such things. She is a modest student who just sucked a dick right now.
" Yes just suck it like that "
" mmhhh mhhh mh " her moans escapes out of her mouth.
You removed her glasses.
" Look at me " you asserted.
She looked at you with lustful eyes.
" Do you want me to fuck you? "
She shook her head signalling a " no " .
You slapped her hard into the face that caused her to shout and cry on the floor. You pulled her hair hard and she is begging you to stop.
" please stop, I gave you a blowjob already "
You pushed her into the bed face down and you removed her underwear. You don't want to remove her uniform as the visual contributes to your pleasure. You started fucking her from behind. Her back is arced and her arms pinched the bed so hard as you ram her back.
" Ughh please , I'm hurting " she pleaded .
" You don't have to pretend to be a little girl, you like this don't you? "
" Argghh, no ! " She answered.
" Then why did your ass follow my rhythm and start pumping as well? Look at your exposed tongue as you enjoys being raped "
" No I don't like it " she said while smiling seductively.
You switched position and you removed half of her buttons, revealing her bra and her shoulders. You fucked her missionary as moans came out both of your mouths. Momo plays her tits as you pound her and she accepted your follow wet kisses as you fuck each other.
" Is my cock that delicious ? "
" Yesss ugh, I mean no "
" You don't have to hide it anymore baby girl "
" No it's just that your cock is so huge that it makes me crazy " she said while holding your face with both her arms.
She pulled you into a deep kiss.
" Yesss I'm cumming, keep fucking my pussy like that please "
" I'm cumming inside you "
" YESS please fill my young pussy with your cum "
You came hard into her pussy and both of you moaned in unison. After a short break, you ordered her to suck your dick as you play video games. Before going to bed you charged her and ordered her to wake you up with kisses on your cheeks and a good ol' handjob.
This sex doll is now yours provided that you submit transparent and honest reports to the company each week. She's only programmed for sex activities if not so, you could have asked her to cook for you haha. She's indeed programmed well.
If you're the one that the company picked to be one of the product testers, what burglar things will you do to Momo?
772 notes · View notes
apocalypseornaw · 6 months
Text
What's Mine
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Dean Winchester x Reader
You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you
The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.
“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.
“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”
You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.
“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.
You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”
Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.
You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?
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You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.
You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.
—--------------
Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?
He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.
He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”
—-------------
After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.
When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.
The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”
You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.
“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”
—------------
Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.
He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”
The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”
—-----------------
What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”
Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.
You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.
“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.
Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”
You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.
He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”
He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.
You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”
Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”
You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.
You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”
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The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.
—-------------
You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.
“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”
He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”
He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”
—--------------
He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.
He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”
His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.
Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.
“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.
He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.
—--------------
You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.
Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”
He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.
“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.
Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.
—------------
You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.
Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”
His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.
He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.
—----------------
He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.
After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”
You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”
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fangswbenefits · 1 year
Text
Consequences
Summary: Miguel’s obsession with you reaches a breaking point, and now he’s left to deal with the consequences.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 2.5k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Shy/inexperienced sweet reader. Pining. Pillow hump*ng.
Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous part
Miguel hadn’t managed to get a single second of sleep.
After having heard you mumble that name over and over, he had retreated to the living room, scanning through your file like a madman, hoping he’d find out who this person was.
Tom.
He had Lyla comb through everything, but nothing had come up.
By the time six in the morning rolled around, you exited the room with a long yawn, stretching out your arms, as Miguel sat on his counch, eyeing you intensely.
Still not wearing a bra.
Still in his shirt.
But having mumbled someone else’s name.
Needless to say, this ordeal had effectively killed his boner for good.
It was hard for him to hide his scowl. “Sleep well?”
Your lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hmm. You?”
Laughable.
He nodded, not wanting his voice to betray his feelings.
“Do you think I can take a shower before I go to the lab?”
“Sure.”
You glared at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is… everything okay?”
“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “You have some fresh towels in there.”
“Great!” you chirped happily, disappearing into the bathroom.
Maybe a few hours ago, Miguel O’Hara would have been rock hard from the thought of you being naked with nothing but a door in the way.
But he was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond his blinding jealousy.
Who was Tom? A boyfriend? Family? A pet? Someone random?
Or someone important?
Why didn’t he know about this? Was he overreacting? Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of.
But he was sure of something: he needed answers.
He walked up to the kitchen and brew himself a cup of coffee, needing to deal with the headache that had settled.
Not long after, you emerged from the bathroom, completely soaked in the scent of his body wash, and he nearly gasped at how it completely overtook his senses.
Already in your suit, you quickly dropped by his bedroom to drop off his clothes, and walked right back, bearing a sleepy smile.
“Want something to eat?”
You nodded, sitting on the stool by the counter. “Yes, please. Do you have some fruit?”
He grabbed his cup of coffee and scanned the cupboard. “An apple?”
“Yes!” you beamed.
Miguel offered you one that you immediately brought to your lips, sinking your teeth into the soft surface.
To someone on the outside, this could be considered a moment between a couple who was just getting ready to start the day.
Everything looked very… domestic.
Except, it wasn’t.
Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Would it be too much?
But he had to know. It was eating him alive inside not knowing.
“Who’s Tom?”
Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately stopped chewing. “What?”
Miguel tried to appear as casual as possible, but something in your reaction made him regret having asked in the first place.
There was no going back now, so he might as well push for it.
Right?
“I heard you in your sleep,” he went on, taking a sip of his coffee. “You whispered that name.”
Your face had hardened lightly and your gaze dropped to the apple in your hand. “Uh… yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
I didn’t even sleep…
“Is he family or…?”
You swallowed and slid off the stool, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s no big deal. Wait… what time is it?” you said, tapping your watch. “Oh. I need to head back to the lab.”
At this point, Miguel knew he had maybe fucked up big time, and went into full on panic mode.
“I’m sorry that I asked, I-”
You immediately shook your head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine! Thanks for letting me stay over.”
He rounded the countertop and walked up to you, desperate to fix whatever he had just broken.
“You can take the day off if you need.”
You smiled again, but he knew that this time it was genuine. “That’s exactly what I don’t need. Now that I’ve managed to get the chips to work, I need to get back and run some tests.”
He allowed himself to relax slightly. From this distance he could smell his shampoo on you, and it made his heart clench.
There you were again.
His hardworking sweet girl.
You gave his arm a light pat. “Thanks again, Miguel. Your bed is really comfortable,” you said, heading to the doorway while rummaging through your backpack. “Much more than mine.”
He’d have it in your apartment in a heartbeat, and he nearly offered, but chose silence.
“See you later!” you waved with a smile before taking another bite out of the apple, and disappearing beyond the sliding door.
That smile could break a man.
It had broken him long ago.
And now Miguel wanted to scream.
To break something.
Not only did he not get an answer from you, but now he was under the impression he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have by having asked you.
He stormed into his room, and paced hurriedly from one end to the other, trying to decide what to do next.
That was until your scent gripped his heightened senses again.
He glared at his bed.
Your scent lingered in the bedsheets and, as if on autopilot, he paced towards it and gripped one pillow, bringing it to his face.
The family rush of blood downwards was almost painful.
You had been in his bed, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had fantasised ravaging you in it.
He allowed his digital suit to dissolve, leaving him fully naked.
Miguel knew deep down that this was too desperate. Even for him.
But that didn’t stop him.
Instead, he got on top of the mattress, right above where you had slept, and positioned the pillow lower, until the underside of his cock was resting on the soft material.
You had left his shirt neatly folded on top of another pillow and he brought the fabric to his nose, breathing in your scent mixed with his.
His hips rolled once.
It was intoxicating, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging his cock up and down the pillow soaked in your scent, soon to become soaked in his precum.
His grunts were muffled by the fabric and he felt his fang tear through it.
He wasn’t going to last long.
This was too much.
With a few more snaps of his hips, and feeling more and more precum spill out, Miguel was a moaning mess.
How he wished you’d be right under him, taking all those thrusts deep inside, whimpering and sobbing as he filled you over and over again.
The thought of you struggling to take him for the first time was enough to push him over the edge, and more sounds of fabric being torn filled his ears.
He stilled as a guttural growl broke from his throat, strings of cum shooting out and seeping into the soft fabric below.
His breathing was still erratic by the time his fangs retracted.
Once he found the will to get up, he picked up the cum-drenched pillow and decided to throw it away.
The post-nut clarity hit him like a thousand bricks, as he cleaned up the mess, allowing his suit to cover his entire body once again.
If you weren’t going to tell him about Tom, then he knew just who to ask.
Jessica Drew.
Pulling out two orange screens in his livingroom, your file immediately coming up. He then tapped on his watch twice.
Jessica’s hologram popped up. “Morning, Miguel.”
“Busy?”
“Just headed out to brief my squad.”
“Who’s Tom?” he blurted out, positioning his wrist so that she could see your file on the screen.
“Oh.”
He scowled deeply. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”
Jess clicked her tongue. “I mean that I’m not surprised this is about her.”
“What?”
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miguel O’Hara,” she said with a teasing smile. “You might be able to fool others — hell, even her —, but you can’t fool me.”
That was Jessica Drew. Perceptive as always. He wasn’t all that annoyed that she could read him that well. After all, he had recruited her for a reason.
“I’m just concerned about her,” he said, admitting defeat.
“I’m sure you are,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But maybe you should be asking her, no?”
“I did, and she pushed the topic away.”
She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know of any Tom. That name never popped up while I was scouting her.”
He felt disappointment and frustration grip him tightly, and he began scrolling through your file, wishing he could have missed something.
“Look, I may head out to her dimension later today, and see what I can find,” she offered with a sigh.
“Thank you, Jess.”
“But Miguel…?”
His crimson eyes darted to the flickering hologram. “Yes?”
“If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there may be a chance you won’t like what I find out. If I find anything, that is.”
Point taken.
He was started to accept that the truth might be an inconvenience for him.
But he had to know. The frustration of not knowing was driving him crazy.
“Just do what you have to do.”
She nodded and the hologram faded.
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The first time Miguel had been at to your place was to check up on you after almost an entire week of going without sleep.
You were stubborn. Even more than he had been in his younger days.
You’d go home, but continue working, so he had no choice but to restrict your access to the lab data from outside HQ. As expected, you weren’t happy, but finally took his advice and got some rest.
Now he was back, but for a different reason, and he could only hope things between you two hadn’t soured.
He had kept his distance throughout the rest of day, occasionally checking you through the cameras as the mic in your suit.
Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.
But he had an uneasy feeling brewing inside him, so he had to make sure.
You had promptly let him in even though it was close to midnight, slightly confused as to the reason of him dropping by.
As he stepped in, he was met with a sight he hadn’t seen the last time he had visited: there were wires spread everywhere along the floor, mixed between card boxes and paper scattered across every possible surface he could set his eyes on.
“Sorry for the mess,” you giggled apologetically. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”
Good.
But also… very workaholic of you.
You were dressed in just a shirt — seemingly wearing a bra, this time — and some sweatpants, with a pencil tucked behind your ear, as you paced in circles, glaring at your pad.
“Love what you did with the decoration,” Miguel mused, trying his best to strategically avoid stepping on anything. “Fire hazard aesthetic, is it?”
You paused to stare at him with a lighthearted chuckle. “Bingo!”
Your reaction made him feel more at ease. Perhaps he had read too much into things.
You were still acting like his sweet girl.
The table at the center had barely any room left, and he managed to find a vacant spot on a chair nearby. “May I sit?”
You were looking through a tube with five different wires running along it. “Oh… I was going to place this there.”
Miguel immediately moved away. “Right. Of course.”
Priorities of any scientist.
Flashing him your trademark grin, you moved around to rest the tube horizontally on the chair.
This place truly resembled his when he was first getting started with Nueva York. All the blueprints and planning and computers and screens.
Oddly enough, your apartment made him feel nostalgic.
“So, what’s up?” you said, before taking a sip of your water.
He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I wanted to apologise for earlier today.”
You blinked.
“That conversation… about Tom?”
“Oh!” you suddenly said as realisation hit you. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Miguel! It’s a non issue.”
Well. He begged to differ, actually. Whoever this Tom person was, it had already created a slight rift between you two, even if unintentionally.
And he wanted to fix that.
Miguel was a fixer.
“I just want to make sure that Tom isn’t going to become an issue. For you… or for us.”
He added that last part in an effort to compel you to talk about him, which stemmed from genuine concern. What if Tom was someone dangerous and that could put spider society at risk?
You waved your hand dismissively. “He won’t. Don’t worry.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to continue with the questions, but it had become clear you weren’t going to collaborate.
It didn’t matter.
He would have information on Tom soon enough, and then he’d decide whether he was an issue or not.
But then… “Are you two close?”
He mentally slapped himself for his impulse.
“Oh, yeah… I guess you could say that,” you said, dragging your finger along the screen in front of you. “But, really, there’s no point talking about it.”
But why?
So he was someone close to you… he had dreaded this possibility becoming true.
But maybe… maybe it was just some family member.
He began pacing around with arms crossed, glacing outside the window and into the night sky.
Deep down, he wanted you to know he was there for you, but he also wanted some answers.
He needed answers.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
At this, you slammed your palms on the table, a frown settling on your face. “Miguel! Drop it, please… it’s nothing.”
That was unexpected.
And so unlike you.
And it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m just looking out for you.”
He was. Truly.
And for his relationship with you. A future one, hopefully.
Your features softened as your eyes met his, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between you two and pull you into an embrace.
But he chose to keep his distance, not wanting to seem overbearing.
“I know. I’m sorry,” you drawled out, rubbing your temples with both hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
He shook his head at once. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’ve been too overloaded with work, which is my fault, I know,” you said, pacing nervously. “But… I just want to help.”
Miguel sighed. “And you are. You don’t need to constantly prove yourself. No one will think less of you for not figuring things out at first,” he continued, and he meant every single word. “There’s so much trial and error in our line of work. We should work hard, yes. But not to the point of exhaustion.”
You halted, glaring at him like he had just uttered something unthinkable.
Unexpectedly, you were the one to close the distance between you two with unsure steps.
Dropping both arms against his sides, Miguel watched in silence as you paced closer and closer, your face holding a hint of sadness that should be forbidden.
You should never have to feel sad.
“I know you care,” you said, you voice but a whisper. “And I’m really grateful for you.”
Miguel’s heart sped up, as you tilted your head to stare at him. “Can I hug you?”
How could he ever say no to you? He’d give you anything. Everything.
You just didn’t know that.
He was left baffled and could only nod, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressed your cheek to his chest.
For a man who was perceived as a genius and had built an entire city from the ground up, Miguel sure felt like a fish out of water. So out of his element. He hadn’t shared this level of closeness with anyone in years.
But slowly, he managed to place one hand to the back of your head while the other pulled you closer, in the hopes that you would find safety and comfort in his embrace.
“Thank you.”
A few hours ago, he was humping his pillow thinking of you, fully drunk in your scent. Now, something else filled him.
Anger.
Rage.
No… there was no doubt whoever this Tom individual was that he had left a mark on you. And he couldn’t stand seeing his sweet girl like this.
He had to find out what had happened and what he had done to his sweet girl.
He would find him and he would break him if he had to.
Your tears were wetting his suit, and he had to muster all his willpower not to bolt into your dimension in search of him.
The fingers on your back caressed you slowly, lulling you into a comfortable position.
“I’m here for you.”
He felt your arms tighten around him, and he heard a sob. “Can… can you sing something?”
“What?”
“It distracts me…”
He felt puzzled at first, but he did want to help you. “Uh… anything?”
You nodded with a sniffle.
“Okay… uh… the itsy bitsy spider craw-”
You broke into a laughter. “Seriously?”
He felt his lips turn into a warm smile, as he kept rubbing your back.
Slowly, you loosened your grip around him and tilted your head to stare at him, chin resting on his chest with a sweet smile.
It had worked.
“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered.
On impulse, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping away a few teardrops.
His eyes then fell to your lips as they parted slightly, and he brought the thumb to brush along them, enjoying the softness and how your breath came out in shallow pants.
His sweet girl…
How he really wanted to—
And then his watch stared beeping, cutting the moment short.
Of course.
You jolted and he bent his arm and glared, as spider-byte’s hologram emerged. “Boss, Jessica has found subject A on Earth-2848.”
Fuck.
You immediately tore from him, wiping away the remnants of your tears.
“My Earth? What happe-”
He quickly cut you off. “Send me the file.”
Margo glanced briefly at you. “Uploading the file, boss.”
Miguel immediately terminated contact, and the hologram dissolved. He was then met with your questioning face
“Is it an anomaly? Is everything okay?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are just tracking some unusual activity.”
He didn’t want to lie to you.
But you had left him no choice.
He had to know who Tom was.
For you.
“I’m taking care of it,” he tried to reassure again.
You didn’t seem all that convinced, but didn’t insist.
Instead, you took a few steps back, and he felt your warmth painfully leave him at once.
He could get used to it so easily.
Then, he glared down at the screen of his watch, waiting for the file to be ready.
“Hey, Miguel?”
79%
Almost there.
“Miguel?”
His gaze remained fixed. “Hmm?”
“Do you think you can unlock my suit settings?”
That made him snap his head to glare at you.
What?
You were holding your pad, extending it to him. “I’ve been getting this weird interference in my suit,” you sniffled, eyes still puffy from crying. “I wanted to troubleshoot, but it doesn’t let me access the settings.”
Of course not. He had made sure of that.
But something else began looming over him… “What kind of interference?”
You shrugged, tapping the screen. “Static, I think? I only hear it from time to time, though.”
Miguel’s heart instantly dropped, Lyla’s words of caution ringing inside his head: “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”
No, no, no…
“So… can you let me in?”
The mic.
Fuck.
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Part 5
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Masterlist
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godslino · 8 months
Text
PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.
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pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.
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chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3
“Dude, I think it’s clean.”
Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?
“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”
Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”
That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.
“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”
“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”
“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”
“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.
He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.
“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”
Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.
🏠
The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.
“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.
“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.
“You look hot.”
“I look hot.”
“She’s gonna say yes.”
“She’s gonna say yes.”
“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”
“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.
“Wait, what the f—”
“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”
Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.
“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”
Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”
The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.
“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.
“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.
Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.
He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.
With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.
“Min? What’d you say?”
Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.
By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.
“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.
A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”
Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.
But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.
“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.
Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”
“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”
“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.
“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.
Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.
“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”
Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”
“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.
It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.
He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”
“An arm and a leg?”
“What? No—I meant some water.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.
Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”
“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”
Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.
“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.
This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.
“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.
This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.
Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.
“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.
Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.
Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.
He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.
“Okay.”
“O…kay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”
The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.
Y/N [10:34am]
so
when do you want to do that date?
🏠
Are candles too much?
Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.
He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.
Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.
But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.
He needs to find another stain to scrub.
By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.
One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.
(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)
He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.
He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.
As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.
“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.
“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”
“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.
I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.
Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.
Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.
Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.
“How are your cats doing?”
Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”
“You’re cute.”
Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.
“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.
It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.
“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.
“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”
Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.
“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.
Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”
“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”
Oh.
Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?
You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.
Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.
“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.
His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.
“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”
Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.
“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.
“…Oh.”
Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.
He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.
It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!
At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.
Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.
“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”
Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”
“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”
The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.
“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”
You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.
“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.
Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”
You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.
“Min! Can we play Jenga?”
“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”
“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.
“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.
“We make up our own rules.”
The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.
Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.
Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”
He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.
Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.
“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”
He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.
“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”
“And if the tower falls…?”
“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”
Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”
Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.
“Deal.”
“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.
The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.
“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”
“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”
“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”
“One question at a time, princess.”
He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.
“What’s one thing you regret?”
“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”
Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?
“Why?” He chances.
“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.
You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”
Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.
“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”
Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.
You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”
Wait, what?
Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”
This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.
Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”
“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”
I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.
“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”
Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.
Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.
“Can I kiss you?”
Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”
“You didn’t pull out a piece.”
He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”
Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”
The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.
Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”
Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.
“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”
He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.
There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.
He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.
After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”
Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.
“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”
“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”
“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.
🏠
In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,
“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”
When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.
Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.
He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.
Yang Jeongin Fanclub
jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]
chan: AWWWWWWW
jiwoo: i’m gonna cry
changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?
hyunjin: FINALLY
hyunjin: wait
hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?
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[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]
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