#and now the dishes are all piled up when i put all that work into clearing 1 part of the sink so i could ge tht e pots out of the way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hausofwoo · 2 months

Text

handy | choi san

pairing: choi san x afab reader

word count: 5K

summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡

when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.

you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.

for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.

another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.

last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.

all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.

you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.

so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.

just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.

the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.

“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.

“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.

“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”

“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”

you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.

“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.

you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?

“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”

“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”

“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.

“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”

“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”

you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.

he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”

“i do,” you confirm.

“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”

you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.

“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.

“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.

“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”

“leo,” you say.

“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.

“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.

“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”

you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”

after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.

“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.

“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.

after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.

sent 12:28 pm this is san :)

you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.

dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.

you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.

are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?

you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.

“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.

“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.

“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.

“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.

you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.

you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”

san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”

“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”

“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.

“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”

he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”

“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.

“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”

he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.

you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.

“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.

“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.

“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.

“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.

“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.

“thank you so much,” you smile.

“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.

“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.

“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”

you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.

“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.

so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.

and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.

you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.

“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.

“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.

“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”

“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”

“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”

“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”

“i would love some tea,” he says.

you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.

“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.

“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.

“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”

“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”

you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.

san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”

“i didn’t mean to keep you—”

“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”

“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”

san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.

“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”

you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.

listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?

when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.

“the sink now, hm?” he asks.

“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”

he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.

“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.

“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”

“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.

“what?” you ask.

“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?

“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.

“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.

your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.

finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.

“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”

you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.

“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.

he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.

he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”

he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.

your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.

“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”

he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.

he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.

san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.

once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”

he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”

you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.

“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”

and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.

suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.

he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.

his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.

“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.

you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.

he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.

“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”

san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”

“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”

“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”

a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho

add me to the taglist!

#choi san #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san #san smut #san fic #san x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez fic

2K notes · View notes

mechawolfie · 1 year

Text

I love to be dizzy and nauseous and lightheaded and feel pain all over it's so fun!!! my family is right I'm like this on purpose I love to be in pain and I love to avoid doing the dishes by any means necessary!!! i would rather individually hit every single of my nerve endings with a micro hammer than do the dishes , in fact I'm doing that right now so i won't have to do dishes today!!!! yay this is so fun!!!!!!! fuck work !!!!!!!!!!!!

#smudgy.txt #.vent #-_-#'u shouldve finished them last night' i WAS!!! until my body decided id never eaten in my life and that i should just fall over and die!!!!!#and now the dishes are all piled up when i put all that work into clearing 1 part of the sink so i could ge tht e pots out of the way #bc he 'got tired of seeing them scattered everywhere'#the thanks i get for not biting and attacking everyone even tho i want to sooooo bad #i get hes a teen boy & the boys in this family get a lot of shit but hey maybe yknow if its not too much trouble u could #not actively cause problems for me :)#i try to help in any way i have the energy for & tell them when i dont have the energy but they just. DONT BELIEVE ME!!!!!!! when i #say i dont #and then i ask for help & its a straight no & fucking make fun of me for 'always having excuses'#'everyone is tired' bitch do YOU feel like ur body is exploding constantly?????#do u experience the feeling that ur wearing someone elses skin at all times that u have to constantly be #distracting urself from so u dont just start fucking screaming #i just. ahahahaha. FUCK man

1 note · View note

foldingfittedsheets · 16 days

Text

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #writing #funny #story #dishes #dirty dishes

1K notes · View notes

thewidowsledger · 18 days

Text

Gratitude

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, MILF!reader, Natasha is 28 and reader is 36, beefy and nerdy Natasha (she has glasses and is a good cock cook too😩), blowjob (Natasha receiving), mommy kink (?), Natasha calls r 'mama'😩 r came from an abusive relationship before meeting Natasha, r has a son, mentions of cheating, physical abuse, Natasha and r met on a dating app

Author’s Note: I came up to this interview where this artist said, “When I came downstairs and the kitchen is clean and you’ve done it all, all the dishes, you better be ready to get your dick sucked.” And I was like I need to write something out of this, lol enjoy :p Nat + acts of service=😩🤲💗😜🍆 (I'm so nasty, I'm sorry bye)

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

“Thank you for accepting me.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Another kiss.

“Now, let mommy show you how grateful she really is.”

⧗

You had always envisioned yourself pursuing law school after graduation, but life had other plans. You unexpectedly became pregnant right after graduating, when you told your boyfriend of 3 years that you were pregnant, he was ecstatic to become a father. However, once your son was born, his true colors showed—he began to lash out at both you and your son and it became a living hell for you.

He was the main provider when you were pregnant and for the first couple of years after your son's birth, he continued to support you. However, when your son turned 2, he provided less and less for you and your son, and that’s when you started looking for a job again.

You quickly pivoted to finding a job that would allow you to support yourself and your son. Luckily, you found a job as an advertising specialist, which provided you with a stable income that was enough to meet your needs and even help contribute to the household. When you had to work long hours, you would leave your son with your lovely neighbor, who was a grandmother and loved taking care of him like her own grandchild. She would always try to talk to you about leaving your boyfriend every chance she gets, she even tried to set you up with her amiga’s son. Of course you knew she meant well, but you would just offer a forced smile and a coffee she told you was her favorite to try and change the subject everytime she talks to you about it.

Over time, your relationship with your boyfriend continued to deteriorate. He stopped helping you around the house and you would come home to find dirty dishes piling up in the sink and no food in the fridge. If there was food, it seemed like he only prepared it for himself. It felt like he was becoming more and more selfish and unthoughtful, leaving you to take care of everything on your own while he prioritized his own needs.

He showed little to no interest in caring for your son too, often expecting you to handle all the parenting, household…everything! If your son cried, he wouldn't bother trying to comfort him and would just give him his phone while he watches TV. You didn't even know if he listened to you when you tried to talk to him about keeping your son away from gadgets.

If there was a mess to clean up, he always expected you to take care of it. He even went as far as shouting at you like a maid to do everything, showing a complete lack of empathy or willingness to share the responsibilities of raising your son.

As if it was only you who made your son? He literally put him inside you?

The breaking point in your relationship came when your boyfriend laid a hand on you. He was drunk when he got home, you asked him where he’d been and he told you, he went into a bar, out with friends—after that he told you not to ask any further questions. But the sickening perfume clinging on his shirt didn't stop you from asking if he was cheating on you and out of nowhere he came up to you and slapped you across the face. You knew at that moment that you had to leave him to protect your child from further harm. Yes, it was you who got hurt by him and if he could do it to you, he would do the same to your son. So you gathered your things and left that very night, never looking back. You also decided to leave the job you were working at, wanting to put as much distance between you and him as possible. Surprisingly, your ex-boyfriend never made any attempt to contact you or even ask about your son, as if he was relieved to be rid of you both.

Now, meeting Natasha felt like a breath of fresh air after the toxic relationships you had experienced. She was kind, empathetic, and genuinely interested in your well-being. Not to mention that she was almost a decade younger than you and was a beefy woman that has godly arms, that made you literally swipe right on sight. And behind that godly body she had a geeky side—she wore glasses, framing her intelligent green orbs, sparkling as she literally rambled about Greek mythology during your first date.

You were having a great time with her and you think you both clicked and you know that eventually that night during your date you have to tell her about your son which you were hesitant about, fearing judgement or rejection.

What if after you told her she will excuse herself to the bathroom and never come back and leave you with the bills? Or what if she will suddenly tell you that her dog is sick even though she doesn't even have a dog? Well, you don't want to assume already but these are the things you had experienced in the past when you started dating again—a lot of stupid excuses that led you to expect rejection or disappointment when you mentioned you had a son.

However, as you gathered the courage to reveal this information, Natasha's reaction took you by surprise.

“You have a son? That's wonderful. I hope to meet him soon.”

And you knew from there that you would let her take you to bed…not just to sleep though.

And speaking of bed you are now stretching yourself around your own bed, the memories of the night before came flooding back to you. You could still feel her lips on yours, her hands skimming over your body, her inside you. But then, the sheets where she had been laying is now cold, she is no longer beside you. You tried to look around your room but she's nowhere to be found.

You immediately get yourself dressed soon, your mind shifting to a familiar routine—cleaning the house. Having come from an abusive relationship, you have become accustomed to cleaning as your ex-boyfriend had placed the burden of household chores on you, demanding that you clean the house, iron his clothes, and prepare his breakfast before he left for work and it has been an ingrained habit on you.

Though you were saddened by the thought of Natasha actually leaving, your instinct to still do the things you usually do every morning is a priority, and after that, you are planning to call Darcy to pick your son up and cry to her that you feared yet another date failed.

Maybe she was just embarassed to say it in front of your face, that she's not into single mothers and she was just being kind and she thought that you seemed like you haven't been laid for like what? Two years now? So she just slept with you and immediately fly off afterwards. Maybe you have to start putting a single mother warning on the dating app you have been using or maybe stop using it at all.

As you descended the staircase, a tantalizing aroma wafted through the air, causing your stomach to rumble. You strained your nose, trying to identify the source of the mouthwatering scent. Was it a rich pasta sauce or perhaps a delectable baked mac and cheese that was cooking in the kitchen? The mystery deepened your hunger, making your stomach growl even more insistently.

Wait, who was cooking in your sacred kitchen?!

Entering the kitchen, your gaze fell upon a delicious delightful sight —Natasha, clad in your strawberry-patterned apron, her beefy arms flexed as she skillfully stirred a pot on the stove, her strength and cuteness on full display. Sensing your presence, Natasha turned around, her smile widening as she laid eyes on you.

“Good morning.” Natasha greeted you with her deep and velvety voice.

“H-hi…”

“I hope you don’t mind me being here in your kitchen.”

Well, you literally let this woman take you in your own bed and be inside you the very same night you met…where else couldn’t she be in?

You looked around, taking in the immaculate state of your house. It was as if a cleaning fairy had come in the night and transformed the place. The floors were spotless, dishes were washed and put away, the couch cushions were fluffed and there were beautiful freshly cut roses arranged in a vase on the countertop. Your gaze fixed on the vibrant petals as you admired its simple beauty.

Natasha, noticing your gaze, commented shyly, “I brought some...for you, a while ago. I'm sorry for getting out of bed, I wanna prepare something for you before you wake up.” She smiled sheepishly, her fingers playing with the straps of the apron as she removed it out of her godly body.

Your eyes now darted to the vacuum, neatly tucked away in its usual spot and a frown creased your forehead. “D-Did you vacuum?” Natasha with her glasses slightly fogged up, nodded affirmatively, her hands busily wiping away the condensation.

“You know you don't have to do all this, right?”

“Yeah but I want to.”

“I'm sorry if my house is really that messy that you have to clean it yourself.”

“That's not what it is mama.”

You bit your lip trying not to moan right then and there with the nickname she gave you as you slowly walked up to her, thinking of some ways on how to thank her.

Your eyes locked onto her figure as she prepare two plates for the two of you, “Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You reached out and cupped her cheek to get all her attention. You gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, your fingers brushing against her cheek.

“Baby…it’s nothing, alright?” she giggled.

“Let me thank you for doing all this.”

“Well, your welcome.” She kissed your forehead but when she was about to turn and go back to plate the pasta your hands gripped her tighter and you pushed her gently against the kitchen counter, pinning her in place.

“I thought you will let me thank you for you doing all this for me?” you frowned, looking at her with best puppy eyes you could give.

“Y-yeah…and I said you’re welcome didn't I?” Natasha’s cheeks flushed with a rosy tint, her breath hitching in her throat unaware of what you’ve been meaning to say or do.

Her eyes widened in shock as she watched you slowly kneel down in front of her, your hands reaching for the waistband of her joggers, not even wearing a boxers. She didn't fight, her body seemingly frozen in place as you pulled them down, revealing her erect cock springing free.

You smiled up at her, your gaze fixed on her cock and she felt a heat spread across her cheeks. You wrapped your hand around the base of her shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for doing all this, baby,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of her cock.

“Thank you for tidying up the house.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for cooking for me.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for accepting me.”

Another kiss.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Another kiss.

“Now, let mommy show you how grateful she really is.”

Without a second, you wrapped your lips around her thickness, taking her into your warm, wet mouth. Natasha’s head fell back against the cabinets, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you as you bobbed your head.

You continued to suck on her cock with fervor, your mouth stretching to accommodate her girth. Natasha’s hips bucked slightly, pushing her dick deeper into your throat. You gagged softly, but didn’t pull back, determined to show her just how grateful you were.

You looked up at her, your eyes meeting hers as you continued to suck on her hard length. Her glasses were fogged up, her eyes hidden behind the blurred lenses. But you could feel her gaze, intense and unblinking, as she watched you pleasure her.

“Fuckfuckfuck baby, sh—shit!”

As you continued to suck on her dick, saliva dripped from the side of your mouth, a small smile attempting to form on your lips despite the awkward position. You tried to grin up at her, hoping to catch her eye again through the fogged lenses.

Natasha's breathing grew ragged, her hands gripping tighter onto your hair. “B-baby I-I fu—!” she panted, trying to pull you off. But you tightened your grip on her thighs, keeping her in place as you continued to bob your head.

“Babybabybaby I’m going to…” she warned, her voice strained. You hummed in response, the vibration pushing her over the edge. She came with a low moan, her hips bucking forward as she spilled into your mouth.

You swallowed every last drop, your eyes watering slightly from the intense sensation. You slowly pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Natasha sagged against the cabinets, her legs shaking as she tried to catch her breath. You slowly stood and she sighed, leaning against you for support, trying to steady her nerves.

“If there should be someone who needs to be thankful, that’s me,” she buried her face in your shoulder, her breath warm against your skin. “Fuck, mama is-is there something I could still do around the house?” her voice coming out a little bit raspier and low.

You took a hold of her face and giggled, “Someone wants to be rewarded huh?”

“Mhm,” she nodded with a puppy dog eyes, her lips pouting at you.

You bit your lips at her being so cute and placed a kiss on her plump lips, “You have to stop before I let you fuck me to every corner you've cleaned around here.”

The red head then blush at your blunt words, “That's what I want,” she whined as she put her face back at your shoulder, embarrassingly admitting the reason why she wanted to help you around the house. And you just can't help but giggle and place a comforting kisses on the side of her face.

“Pasta’s getting cold, let’s eat?” She offered weakly as she pull back after clinging from you for support after the lingering aftershocks of the orgasm you gave her.

“I don't think I'm hungry for food anymore, I just had my breakfast,” you said with a smirk written on your face. You wiped the remaining evidence of her from the side of your mouth, sucking your thumb clean with a satisfied expression.

Natasha’s gaze intensified, her eyes locked onto yours, in a swift second you yelped as she effortlessly lifted you onto the kitchen counter.

“Well, I haven't had mine, mama.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic

1K notes · View notes

yuvany · 22 days

Text

#LOVE IN THE AIR

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 and their date ideas𐙚

OT7 ENHYPEN x Female reader ;; CONTENT/WARNING(S) :: fluff + est relationship + kisses + not proofread. . . WORD COUNT . 964 ;; CHECK BOX !!

yu-note :: writer's block is kicking in again, and school work is piling up...

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - KARAOKE

Serenades you as much as he can. Sings ballads, pop songs about love and some of his own music. You cheer him on and clap to the beat of the music and applaude after each round. He courtesy in a low bow in a joking manner before walking over to you, holding the microphone in front of him, asking you to sing this time. "I can't sing, Hee." You try to avoid the microphone that is getting closer and closer to you. "Don't lie, I've heard you sing in the shower, sweetie." You are embarrased by this and you feel your cheek turn red as you grip onto the handle. Heeseung chuckles and press a soft kiss to your cheek.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - COOKING

He invited you over to his place. At first, he did most of the cooking as you watched him from the side lines, but you weren't complaining. Jay was certainly art to look at. Later though, he realises that he accidentally left you out. "baby, come here." He motions for you to stand beside him. "Yes?" You ask and he takes out a glass pan from the storage underneath the oven. "please layer the lasanga while I wash the dishes." Jay pats you on the back before walking over to the sink and letting the water run. When you're finished, you wait for him before putting it in the oven. Jay returns and sees that you've done an awesome job, and he rewards you with a kiss.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗬𝗨𝗡 - POTTERY

Thought it would be nice as he likes doing new stuff. You entered the workshop with aprons on you, the instructor walked in and introduced herself, explaining the short agenda. After the short walk-through, you and Jake are left to experiment with the clay on your own. You decided to make a smll heart shaped pot with low edges to give to Jake, and he had a similar idea. As you knead into the clay and shape it into your desired form, you snatch glances at him with his tounge out and you can't contain your smile. The two of you paint them together, and then walk out of there proudly. "I think you'll like what I made." He says. "I think you'll like mine too." You reply.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉 - PHOTOGRAPHY

Sunghoon had already envisioned you as his model weeks before he finally asked you to go to a park with him. His hand let go of your waist as he sees a beautiful garden and asks if he could take a photo of you. "Here?" You ask, walking over to where he is pointing, he nods and picks up the camera that hung from his neck. "Now strike a pose, baby." You followed and heard the shudder of the camera go off. Sunghoon takes a look at it before smiling to himself. You are curious and walk over to him and try to sneak a glance at it. He sees this and shows you. "Let me take a picture of you now." You offer with a sweet smile and he nods. "I'm sure you'll do great."

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - DIY CRAFTS

Wanted to stay inside with blankets and pillows making a fortress around the two of you as you observe a youtube video on how to make a paper bouquet. Papers of different colours were scattered all over the floor with the ipad admist all the chaos. It felt like an impossible tast to finish, but Sunoo manages to do the difficult past faster than you, and you plead for him to do it for you as well. "Honey, pleasee." He eventually gives in with a roll of his eyes after rejecting it a couple of times. After creating the first flower, Sunoo accidentally scrunched the paper and gives up. "For you, my love." He hands you the single flower he made with a wide smile and the two of you burst into laughter.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - CAFE HOPPING

It was initially a normal walk, but he spotted a new cafe that had opened and was itching to try it, so he pulled you along with him. The sound of a bell was heard upon entering the small atmosphere. He holds your hand as you two look at the menue by the register, and you tell him what you want to order, and he orders for you while you go and search for a seat. He finds you and shrug off his jacket and hangs it on his chair. "They also had your favourite here, so I ordered that as well, babe." Jungwon says and you nod. "Strawberry cake?" You question and he nods. "I heard that there's another popular shop a couple of minutes away from here, wanna go?" You see the excitement in his eyes, and can't tell him no.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - PAINTING

He is talented for sure. He invited you over to a workshop with him. His plan was to impress you with his talent, and you are indeed impressed by how well he can paint. If you're an artist yourself, Riki will sit and watch you in awe, his mouth hanging agape as he observes the brush sliding acorss the canvas. If you don't know how to draw or paint, worry not. He comes and saves you. Riki holds your hand that holds the brush and guides you through each step. When doing individual projects, he sneaks peaks at you from above the canvas and paints you a portrait of yourself. "I have a gift for you." He says, and you try to see what he's hidng behind his back, but he moves aside and hands you it before backing away shyly waiting for your reaction, "It's wonderful."

624 notes · View notes

cheoliehansolie · 5 months

Text

The Hoodie

Summary: Wonwoo learns something interesting about you wearing his hoodies.

Word Count: ~2.8 k

Pairing: fem reader x Wonwoo

Warnings: Implied smut and a bit suggestive

an: I'm finally back after accidentally taking a break for a month. Thank you guys for waiting patiently <3. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering into your room through your blinds. Waking up to the warmth of sunlight on your cheeks had to be your favorite part of spring. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you shock yourself with how early you’ve woken up on a Saturday.

Normally you’re one to sleep until you absolutely need to get out of bed on the weekends, but today you’ve somehow managed to wake up at 7:30. Feeling proud of yourself, you decide to take this as your sign to be productive and to spend the day finally cleaning your apartment.

This past week had been hectic with work and the semester coming to an end that you barely had time to sleep, let alone clean your space. So, your apartment had been looking like a tornado blew through it for a while now and it definitely was not helping your mental state.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you shove your blanket from off your figure and force yourself out of bed. What? Just because you woke up early and decided to be productive in your head doesn’t mean that it’s not hard to get out of bed, especially when the mornings are still cold.

You rush into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and shower to warm yourself up. Once you’re done with your shower, you put on a pair of leggings and your hoodie (yeah, definitely yours and not your boyfriend’s).

As you’re tying your hair up into a ponytail, you make your way out of your room and into the living room. You immediately groan seeing all your college papers on your dining table which is serving as your makeshift desk, the trash on your kitchen counters, and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

Seeing the amount of overall filth in your living space, you were extremely tempted to just go back to bed and pretend you never had plans of cleaning, but you knew that if you didn’t clean your apartment now, you never would. So, you grab your phone, blast your cleaning playlist, and get to work.

—

It took you basically all morning just to clean your kitchen and it’s safe to say that morale was at an all time low. You collapsed onto your couch out of exhaustion and hunger. You hadn’t expected it to take so long to clean so you thought you could just eat breakfast after cleaning.

The second your body began relaxing on the couch, you heard a knock at your door. You laid there silently hoping that the person at your door would leave, but less than a minute later the knocking continued.

You let out a groan of frustration as you force yourself off the couch and make the trek to the front door less than a few feet away.

You swing open your front door, a frown still on your face. It takes you a second to register who’s at your door, but when you do, you’re left confused.

Wonwoo stands in front of you dressed casually a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee shirt. You notice in one hand he’s holding a white plastic bag, which you can only assume contains take out.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing here?” you ask as you wrack your brain trying to remember if you had plans to see each other today.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts so I decided to stop by and make sure everything was okay.” he explains as you step aside letting him into your apartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spent the past few hours cleaning. I haven’t been on my phone since I got up. I didn’t mean to worry you.” you say with your lips slightly down turned and eyebrows furrowed.

You felt bad for making him worry to the point that he felt the need to come to your apartment.

“Hey, it’s fine.” he says softly, noticing how upset you looked at yourself. “I wanted to see you anyways, so you not answering gave me an excuse to see you.”

Once Wonwoo took his shoes off, he finally registered what you looked like. His lips almost immediately turned up into a small smile as he realized that the hoodie you were wearing was none other than his own. He noticed the subtle flush in your cheeks, the thin sheen of sweat creating a film over your skin, and the way strands of hair were falling out of your ponytail.

Noticing the fact that Wonwoo was just silently standing in your entryway, you ushered him deeper into your apartment. Honestly, you had noticed his eyes wandering over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by the current state of your appearance. You and Wonwoo had been dating for about a year, but something about the way he looks at you makes you feel the same way you did during your first date.

“So, whatcha got in the bag?” you asked, looking pointedly at the plastic bag in his right hand.

“Oh, this? I picked up lunch from your favorite place. I thought you might’ve been sleeping or something when I texted you so I thought it would be nice to bring you some food.”

“Aww, thank you so much babe!” you exclaim in excitement. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll just grab us some plates from the kitchen?”

Wonwoo gives you a nod as he makes his way to the couch. He places the bag of food on the table in front of him and he watches as you walk around the kitchen grabbing plates, utensils, and glasses of water for the two of you. He can’t help but coo every time you tug at the sleeves of his too large hoodie to grab everything.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask once you’ve joined your boyfriend on the couch.

“No reason. You just look cute in my hoodie, that’s all.” he says, a small smile of endearment grazing his lips.

You feel yourself flush at his statement and pull your hair out of your lopsided ponytail as an attempt to distract yourself from how flustered Wonwoo still makes you even after how long you’ve been dating.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation to more neutral territory.

Wonwoo can’t keep himself from smiling a little wider at your flustered state, but he decides to take pity on you and drops the subject. Just this once, though.

Soon enough, conversation flows easily between the two of you as you share your meal together. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty and there lies another thing left for you to clean. Just as you’re about to get up to clean the small mess in front of you (it merely is a drop of water in the ocean of a mess your apartment is), Wonwoo beats you to it and is stacking the dirty utensils in his hands.

“Wonwoo, I can clean it.” you whine when he motions for you to stay seated as he continues cleaning.

“You can rest on the couch. Didn’t you say that you spent the entire morning cleaning?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I -” before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo cuts you off.

“No buts! You looked exhausted when I got here. The least I can do is clean up the mess I helped make. Besides, I’m not called the dishwashing fairy for nothing.” he says with a smile.

Before you can protest, Wonwoo gives you a pointed look and you realize there’s no way that you can change his mind so you collapse backwards onto your couch letting him do whatever he wants.

You’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time today with the soft clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen serving as white noise. You’re suddenly aware of how warm you feel and you feel as though you are overheating.

You had spent the day either distracted by cleaning or distracted by Wonwoo that you didn’t realize the rise in temperature in your apartment. It was finally spring time and as much as you loved it, you despised how it would be so cold in the mornings and evenings but warm in the afternoons making it almost impossible to dress appropriately without freezing in the morning or melting in the afternoon.

Feeling sweat prickle on your skin, you decide the only thing you can do is change out of Wonwoo’s thick hoodie into a thin, flowy tee shirt.

When you get up to go change, Wonwoo can see you from your kitchen sink a few feet away and he’s instantly curious as to what you’re up to.

“Where’re you going, love?” he asks from the sink as he continues to scrub the plate in front of him.

“I’m gonna change into something thinner. It’s too warm to be wearing a hoodie right now.” you say as you stop at the entryway of your kitchen to respond to him.

“Why do you need to change for that, though?” he asks, taking his eyes off the plate in front of him to glance at you with his confused eyes.

“I just told you, I’m overheating.” you say, confused as to why he’s confused.

“Can’t you just take it off here?”

You feel heat rush to your face, and you’re now feeling warm from embarrassment.

“Well… I would but…” you trailed off, hoping that you would just disappear or he would drop the subject.

“But…?” Wonwoo asks, having finished washing the dishes and giving you his full attention.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Just say it quickly, it’s like ripping a bandaid off. you think to yourself.

In one breath, as quickly as you can, you say, “I would but I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

It takes Wonwoo a second to understand what you said, but when he does, less than ten seconds after the words left your mouth, you’re already in your room with the door closed behind you.

Wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up as he realizes that this entire day, including the past hour plus that the two of you spent together, the only thing separating your top half from the rest of the world was his hoodie. He originally thought you looked so cute drowning in his hoodie and while he still does, this new information changes his entire perception of the time you’ve spent together.

Meanwhile, you were pacing around your room silently screaming at yourself. I can’t believe I just told him that I was both shirtless and braless under his hoodie. Why would I do that? What if he thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if I made him uncomfortable?

Letting out a defeated groan, you force yourself to push all these worries out of your head. You decide that you can’t hide in your room forever, mainly because you know Wonwoo would come looking for you at some point. So, you change into a loose fitting shirt, take a deep breath, and step out of your room.

Your eyes immediately search the kitchen to see if Wonwoo is where you left him, but he’s not there anymore. You wander deeper into your apartment and you find Wonwoo sitting on your couch, casually scrolling on his phone.

You don’t think he notices your presence and based on how calm he looks, you feel hopeful that he either a) forgot the conversation happened or b) didn’t think it was as much of a big deal as you made it out to be in your head. But when you sit on the other end of the couch and Wonwoo drops his phone to the side to look at you with a knowing smirk on his face, you realize that you were so, so, so wrong.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Wonwoo asks with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you respond, feigning innocence and looking anywhere but your boyfriend sitting a few inches away from you.

“Really? Because I seem to recall you saying that you weren’t wearing anything under my hoodie today.”

Your face flushes for the thousandth time today and you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Listen Wonwoo, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. That wasn’t my intention.” you say, looking into his eyes earnestly.

“Wait, why are you apologizing?” he asks you confused.

“Because it’s obvious that I made you uncomfortable earlier.”

“Babe, I don’t know why you would think I would feel uncomfortable by it. The only reason I didn’t respond was because I was just a little shocked, that’s all. If anything, it’s kinda hot now that I know that you’ve been walking around with nothing underneath my hoodie.”

Feeling embarrassed by assuming that Wonwoo was uncomfortable and by hearing his true feelings, you grab a throw pillow from your couch and bury your face into it.

“I can’t believe I embarrassed myself in front of you twice in one day.” you mumble into the pillow.

“Hey, this can’t be as embarrassing as when you tripped over Vernon’s bag and ended up spilling your drink on Mingyu’s lap.” Wonwoo says.

“I thought we all agreed to not bring that up anymore.” you whine as you hit him with the pillow in your hands.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done more embarrassing things in your life than telling me you're naked under my hoodie.”

“Wow, thank you so much Wonwoo. I feel so much better about myself.” you say sarcastically.

“Aww, babe I’m sorry.” he says as he reaches for your hands.

“Forget it.” you say, faking annoyance as you get up to go clean off your dining table turned desk.

“Babe.” Wonwoo whines as he rushes behind you and grabs your wrist.

Before you know it, Wonwoo tugs at your wrist pulling you close into his chest. Your breath hitches at the boldness of his actions and you peer up at him through your lashes to see what his next move is.

He removes his hand from your wrist and gently raises your chin so he can look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry babe.” he says.

When you’re about to open your mouth to tell him it’s fine, you’re silenced by his lips on yours. Deciding that you actually had nothing to say, you choose to melt into the kiss instead.

Once the two of you part for air, you say “I guess you’re forgiven.”

“You don’t sound too confident about your answer.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe I’m not confident in my answer. What’re you gonna do about it?” you challenge.

“Then let me make it up to you in a different way.” he says as he pulls you into another kiss.

It’s safe to say that you didn’t get any cleaning done for the rest of the day.

—

When you go over to Wonwoo’s place for movie night a few weeks later, Wonwoo is more than happy to see you wearing one of his hoodies you’ve taken from him.

While the two of you are cuddling together on the couch, Wonwoo can’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him. When you’re engrossed in the movie, Wonwoo takes his hand that was resting on your thigh and brings it up to the hem of hoodie loosely covering your frame.

This grabs your attention and you turn to him to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. But Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the screen in front of you and it makes you wonder if you were just imagining things. Deciding that you were just being weird, you turn your attention back to the screen.

When Wonwoo notices that your attention is on the movie again, he takes that as his sign to move his hand again. He slips his hand under the hem of the hoodie and he slowly inches closer and closer to your chest.

Although your eyes were trained on the movie playing in front of you, all of your attention was on Wonwoo’s hand slowly grazing your skin as he made his way up your body. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hand gently graze your bare breast and you turned to face Wonwoo.

He looked at you with a smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Something told you that you wouldn’t know how the movie would end.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut

730 notes · View notes

simplyholl · 3 months

Text

The Bet

Summary: Loki has an interesting punishment when you lose a bet.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Vibrating panties.

A/N: Inspired by that scene in The Ugly Truth.

See my Masterlist Here

“You can’t be serious.” You take the garment from Loki, wishing you could smack the smirk off his face. “You lost the game. So you have to wear them.” He explains, crossing his arms as he leans against your doorway.

“I’ve never lost a game of Uno in my life. You were cheating.” You exaggerate, trying to talk your way out of it. “Put them on. I’ll know if you don’t.” He walks away, leaving you alone.

You and Loki were always competitive with each other, placing stupid bets on frivolous games. Two days ago, you were playing Uno when Loki wanted to make the game interesting. You had beaten him three times already, so you thought you had it in the bag.

If you win Loki had to spend an entire day doing your chores naked. He hated menial tasks, oftentimes he would pay someone else to do his cleaning and laundry. So you knew he would hate it. As for the naked part, you had eyes. You might not get along all the time, but Loki was beautiful.

You had let your dishes pile up, your laundry basket was overflowing, your floors were sticky. You had been busy with missions and Nick Fury made you attend meetings all week so you were behind.

Loki smirked when you told him what you wanted if you won. “If you want to see me naked, you only have to ask.” The devilish smile that accompanied his quip made your skin heat up from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“If I win, you will wear the clothing of my choosing to the meeting on Friday.” You accepted, he would probably make you wear a burlap sack or a silly costume. You weren’t easily embarrassed, so whatever he picked wouldn’t be an issue. Fury would be mad with your theatrics, but you had been doing his bidding all week. He owed you.

The game had been going well. You had three draw four cards in your possession, using them strategically. Then the unthinkable happened. Loki won, placing a red card with a number two on top of your card. He had to have cheated somehow. He didn’t even know how to play until a few days prior when Steve taught him.

With only seconds to spare, you slid your panties down your legs replacing them with the pair Loki gave you. They were black and lacy. You were a little unsure why he wanted you to wear these specific panties. He had to be up to something. He wasn’t the God of Mischief for nothing.

You put them on, feeling something hard under the fabric. You straighten your sun dress and fluff your hair. You look at your phone, you were already late. You didn’t have time to take them off and inspect them. You weren’t a sore loser either, so you would wear them to the meeting.

You rushed down the hall to the elevator. You get on with three others, from their white coats you could tell they worked in the labs. You waited impatiently as the elevator stopped on the tenth floor letting them off. You were five minutes late now. You dreaded whatever smart ass remark Fury would have for you.

Finally, the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. You rushed out, running down the hall to the conference room. Fury stopped speaking to turn and greet you. “It’s about damn time.” He said, returning his attention to the smart board behind him.

You looked around the table for Natasha. She always saved a seat for you. But on her left sat Thor and Loki was on her right. The only empty seat was beside him. You curse him in your head as you walk around the table to take your seat. You wonder how he got Thor to switch from his usual seat beside Steve.

Fury starts talking again, calling on Tony to explain some new technology he was working on for all of you. You try to hide your yawn behind your hand. This stuff was always so boring. Why did you have to be here while they discussed how cool they thought this was?

You try to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, afraid you would fall asleep. A small vibration from your panties knocked the tiredness right out of you. It caught you off guard, but it was tolerable. You turn your head to look at Loki who is staring straight ahead, completely focused on Fury.

That little shit. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, so you raised your hand asking a question and pretending you couldn’t feel yourself growing wetter. You sneak another glance at him, his prominent nose scrunching as he keeps his eyes forward. The vibration speeds up once, twice, three times. You ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palm.

The device rolls in waves against you, brushing your clit. You bite your lip until you taste blood to keep from making a sound. It hums rhythmically, each pulse bringing you closer to orgasm. You can’t hear what Bruce says when he stands to pass out folders filled with the layout of Tony’s design.

He hands it to you, expecting you to take it from him. But you can’t, one hand is wrapped around the side of your chair, the other is clawing at Loki’s leg silently pleading with him to stop this madness. When you don’t reach for the folder, Bruce looks you over, taking in your frazzled appearance and the bead of sweat sliding down your neck. He mouths “You okay?” You nod a little too quickly and he sets the folder in front of you.

Loki opened your folder, bringing out the page Fury was discussing. His gaze lingers on your face for a second, and you think he’s finally satisfied and going to turn it off. The glimmer of mischief shines in his eyes as he returns his full attention to Fury. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not yell in frustration. Then you realize his momentary kindness was only to distract you.

The vibration hits its peak, and you lose control. Your fist slams on the table. All eyes are on you. “Do you have something you’d like to add?” Fury asks, assuming your interruption was about the stupid technology you had no idea about. The ripples flutter against your clit, your lower stomach clenching with the onset of orgasm.

“Yes!” You stand up surprising yourself and Loki who lifts a brow. You can’t think clearly so you hope walking will help. You pace the area behind Natasha, every lift of your leg moves your panties, causing the vibe to reach new angles. “I love this! I love it! I lo-ove it!” Your voice raises a few octaves. Tony smiles, excited someone is showing interest in his hard work besides Bruce and Fury.

“This is the kind of enthusiasm I expect from the rest of you.” He says pointing an accusing finger at the others. “What do you love about it?” He prompts you. You stop behind Loki’s chair, he turns to watch the show you were putting on. You clutch the top of his chair, as the vibration sends you over the edge.

“It’s the best! God, the best!” You look in Loki’s eyes as your legs tremble. “Oh fuck! It’s incredible!” Tony is beaming, hands coming together to clap. “Thank you! This is the kind of reaction I was wanting.” The vibration finally stops, as you wobble a few steps to your chair. Loki gives you his hand to help you sit down. You reluctantly take it, settling back in.

The meeting was finally over five minutes later. Everyone rushed to leave except for you and Loki. “Asshole.” You playfully slap his arm. He stands, gathering his phone and folder. “If you need assistance cleaning up that mess you made” He gestures to your legs, “I’d be happy to help.” He flashes that irresistible smile before leaving you to recover in the conference room.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @lokischambermaid @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter @daddieslut1 @macnbriee @sammichdog

538 notes · View notes

heich0e · 10 months

Text

suna's parents divorced when he was eight.

he doesn't remember a lot of the finer details as he's gotten older, mostly just that there used to be a lot of yelling, but he does remember the two piles of belongings that stacked up in the empty living room of his childhood home: one consisting of his father's and his own, and the other comprised of his mother's and his little sister's. their entire life, their entire family, packed up into cardboard and then divided down the middle.

the apartment he moved into with his father was always too quiet. it was in aichi, far enough away from where he spent the first decade of his life that he didn't have to be reminded of it every time he left the house, but since his father worked so much it still left him with plenty of time to think. to grieve. though maybe he didn't recognize it as that at the time. he played video games his father bought for him after school. ate convenience store bentos or whatever leftovers were set aside for him in the fridge for dinner. he put himself to bed at night. it wasn't a bad life, though maybe a bit lonely.

he was scouted to play for inarizaki when he was 14.

the lonely apartment turned into a lively dorm. he had new friends (his teammates) to play video games with. his convenience store bentos were replaced with hot meals from the meal hall. the loneliness of the apartment in aichi was a distant memory, but still lingered.

"i'm home."

rintarou drops his training bag in the genkan as he toes off his shoes, calling into the apartment to announce his return.

"welcome home!" you call back from further in the apartment, and the sound makes him smirk a little to himself.

you've been coming over to his place a lot lately, ever since he gave you his spare key. he's not upset about this in the slightest, but it doesn't mean he won't take every possible opportunity to tease you for it. he plans how he's going to make fun of you as he pads into his home towards the sound of your voice. he almost has it all planned out—his delivery on the very tip of his tongue—when he falters to a stop.

"how was your day?" you ask him without looking up from what you're doing.

and suddenly, anything rintarou may have wanted to say—joke or otherwise—is beyond him.

he watches as you set a plate of food down on the already full table just off his little kitchen. the food that covers the surface is still hot enough that steam curls up into the air above it, its preparation perfectly timed to his arrival home. his apartment is warm, and smells good, and there's music playing from your cellphone on the other side of the room that you must have been listening to while you cooked.

his chest feels tight.

you turn to look at him when he doesn't respond to your question.

"rin?" you ask again, a lilt of worry in your tone. "you okay?"

"what's all this?" he manages to ask, nodding towards the table where the meal you prepared is still waiting.

"oh, i've been craving my mom's recipe for the past few days, i just thought i'd make it for dinner," you say, tugging at your fingers nervously. your entire countenance is a bit different now, strained like you're worried you've done something wrong. "hope that's okay?" your words lift at the end like a question.

rintarou's never seen so much food on his table. can't remember the last time he even sat there to eat a meal—let alone a home cooked one. his face feels hot, and his eyes sting, and he just can't bring himself to look at you.

"yeah," he says, and if you notice how his voice is a bit croaky, you're nice enough not to tease him about it. "'course it's okay."

you smile, and you look relieved. "wash your hands then, it's getting cold."

you eat your dinner together and talk about your days. you take a shower while he cleans up the dishes. you fall asleep tangled up together on the couch with a movie playing in the background.

his home isn't quiet anymore. he isn't lonely.

and it's thanks to you.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #hq drabble #hq writing

1K notes · View notes

jyoongim · 6 months

Note

Hola, I was wondering for an Alastor x reader (which isn’t particularly romantic if you don’t want it to be) where the reader needed a job and started working at the hotel?

But she’s pregnant (and hell born) so she’s struggling a bit and he helps her out with stuff when she’s tired :)

Alastor x pregnant!hellborn!reader

Something cute and fluffy to read

——————————————————————————

When you found yourself pregnant you were in shock.You didn’t know what to do or where to go.

You had saw an ad for a hotel in need of a another maid and decided you would give it a go.

The hotel was ran by the Princess of Hell, who happily accepted you. She had told you the hotel was for sinners seeking redemption. You thought it was odd, but a job was a job.

You were hesitate to tell her of your condition, thinking she would turn you down but she didn’t. She had told you the farther along you got that it was okay to ask for help.

So now you were a maid at the Hazbin Hotel.

All the residents were…surprisingly nice.

You sheepishly introduced yourself and hoped to get along with everyone. The hotel wasn’t in the worst state, but it could use a good polishing.

Niffty was often with you to assist when you couldn’t clean certain places.

The sunlight had alerted you that you needed to wake up and start your day. You sighed as you rolled out of bed and put on your uniform. You pouted as your belly poked through the material, you were about six months now and it was showing.

You made your way downstairs to head to the kitchen to begin cleaning, knowing you might have missed breakfast.

Charlie had been kind enough to leave you a list of things that needed sprucing up.

You were thankful that the kitchen wasn’t in too much of a mess.

Grabbing empty dishes and turning on the water, you began to clean.

You hummed a little song as you busted the suds. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t notice when Alastor waltzed into the kitchen.

Alastor’s ears perked when he saw you. You rarely saw the demon as you were usually busy, but he was pleasant company to keep.

”Good morning my dear! What a fine hellish day it is!” He chirped, causing you to spin around. You smiled “good morning Alastor” as you continued rinsing and piling dishes on the counter.

The two of you chatted as he made a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. You had finished washing everything and now to put things up.

You frowned when you got to the cups. You couldn’t reach the cabinets and putting too much strain on your back wasn’t good for the baby.

”How’s the little on fairing you my dear? It seems you’ve grown since the last time I saw you” the red demon inquired as he watched you try to figure out what to do with the cups.

You laughed ”heavy. It seems I am in need to let out a few inches in my uniform.” You rubbed your belly.

You spotted the tiny stool that Niffty used and smiled.

Shuffling a bit, you angled it so you could reach.

You were almost done placing everything when you misreached for a cup and because your center of gravity was off, you found yourself tilting off

”Aaah!” You squealed clenching your eyes ready for impact, when you fell into a firm chest.

”careful my dear”

you opened your eyes and see that Alastor was supporting you. You smiled sheepishly and thanked him, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

But the demon hummed as he carried you to the lobby and sat you down on a couch. “Al! I’m fine besides I have to other things to clean today” you pouted.

His brows frowned “nonsense! You can’t possibly clean in this state”

You huffed “Iam perfectly fine. Just didn’t realize how off balance I am now”

You stood, thanked him and went about you day.

But maybe he was right.

Your list was almost finished, but you had one last thing to do.

It was almost the late evening and you were tired from buzzing around the hotel. You were tired, sweaty, your feet felt swollen, and your back ached.

You growled in annoyance when you felt your baby kick as you scrubbed a mysterious spot on the rug.

”I’m almost finished and i promise you’ll get some grub” you patted your belly hoping to soothe the angry soul, but it seemed your baby was irritated.

A sharp kick made you hiss as you wrung out your sponge.

You checked the time, you didn’t know it had gotten so late.

Your stomach growled in protest as you hadn’t really ate anything all day.

You sighed and decided a quick break wouldnt hurt.

Huffing you took a seat on the couch and sighed in relief to be off your feet.

You didn’t notice that you had dozed off when a hand gently shook you.

Alastor.

”Oh Al did you need something? I didn’t even realized I had fell asleep” you rubbed your eyes.

The red demon snapped his fingers and a plate of food appeared. You blinked in confusion “You seemed tired so no one wanted to bother you, but Charlie was worried you hadn’t eaten today. You need to take better care of yourself dear. Its not just you you need to think about” He nudged a piece of fruit towards you.

You got teary-eyed. You had been feeling like more of a burden, but everyone did care about you, even the evil Overlord.

You graciously accepted the food and damn near went feral when you realized how hungry you were.

You patted your belly happily stuffed, your baby pressing against you, guess the little soul was happy as well.

”May I?” Alastor asked, eyes focused on your belly. You smiled. You didn’t take Alastor for the touchy type, but who could resist a pregnant woman?

You took his hand and pressed it against where your baby was resting. Your body buzzed as his static surrounded you and your baby kicked at his hand.

You let out a giggle “I think the baby likes you Al”

He smiled “oh I’m sure it’ll turn out to be as lovely as its mother”

You made a motion to get up and Alastor helped hoisting you up

”why don’t you take a rest hmm? Wouldn’t want you to be a sack of bone now would we?”

He escorted you to your room and you smiled at him as you opened your door.

”Thanks Alastor I really appreciate everything” you quickly pressed your lips to the demon’s cheek and giggled as static popped and wished him a goodnight.

Maybe raising a baby in a hotel wasn’t all that bad.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #Alastor fluff #alastor x pregnant reader #hazbin hotel fluff

706 notes · View notes

thevoidstaredback · 5 months

Text

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Dick had to give it to the kid, he'd somehow thought of everything. It was a little concerning, actually, but the kid had brushed off every attempt had probing for answers. Who trained him? If he was trained at all. ...had the kid gone into vigilantism alone? Oh, dear. THat's not good fro Dick's current worries.

Reading the file Danny had handed him, Dick had to wonder how long it had taken him to put together this cover story. Also, where he'd managed to get the equipment to do it. At a glance, the kid didn't seem to have much on him. Not even a phone!

He closed the folder and set it back down on the table. "Really?" he asked, "'Congratulations, it's a boy'?"

Danny's cheeks turned a bit red as his gaze shifted to the folder. "Well, yeah. You're stuck with me now until I can get you into good habits and a healthier schedule."

"That implies that you're planning on leaving."

Danny shrugged, all his confidence now fading away. Is this what he's really like? "Well, I mean, I'm sure you don't want me sticking around at all, let alone for a while."

Dick frowned and looked back at the black folder and the binder sitting on his coffee table. God, his apartment's a mess! He smiled at Danny. "My name's Richard, but everyone calls me 'Dick'. You can stay in the guest room."

Danny lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Yep. You went to all this work, it'd be a shame if it all went to waste."

The grin on Danny's face was more than worth the security risk that he now posed. "You won't regret it, Mr. Dick!"

Dick smiled back at him, "Please, drop the formalities. We're cousins, apparently."

Was he attached? No. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached. Sure, maybe he was letting this kid - he really needs to start calling him Danny - stay with him for a while, but he wasn't going to get attached. Getting attached meant losing him. Dick wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if he lost someone again.

...damn it.

***

First order of business, now that Danny was officially Dick's - why would he willingly go by that nickname? - ward/cousin, Danny was going to make sure he got some sleep. Today was Dick's day off, so Danny had sent him to his room to take a much needed nap. The man was basically dead on his feet and Danny would be damned if he let him wander around this mess of an apartment with blurry vision.

The second thing he did, once he was sure Dick was asleep, was start to clean up. The place was a stereotypical bachelor's pad, complete with questionable stains in the carpet, rips in the cushions, dishes piled up in the sink, and old take-out on every table and counter. Gross.

He made quick work of the old take-out by throwing it all away and hitting it with a very small and controlled ectoblast. He was so glad Dick had disposable gloves on hand.

The dishes were the next thing he handed. The water was cleaner than in Gotham, so he didn't worry about washing the dishes by hand when they all didn't fit in the dishwasher. He dried the ones he'd hand washed before putting them away. Dick had no organisation in his cupboards, so Danny fixed that, too.

The fridge and freezer weren't too bad. Sure, the dairy products had all expired and most of the food was freezer bitten, but none of it was moldy yet and the appliance itself was in perfect working order. He'd have to go shopping later.

Danny had never liked cleaning, but he'd had to when his parents refused to follow any OSHA laws or Lab Safety courses. So, when he found the cleaning supplies, he took a deep breath and began scrubbing the bathroom. It wasn't too bad, thank god, and was already fairly clean. It was quick and he was able to move on very quickly.

The counters, tables, walls, and tile and wooden floors were all easy to clean with a wet rag and a broom. He wasn't going to even try saving the rug because it looked well beyond the point of no return. The couch and chair cushions could be sticked up, but he didn't have a sewing needle and thread with him.

The last thing he did before taking his backpack into the room he'd been given was to write down a shopping list and leave it on the counter. It wasn't a lot, just food and some dishes and toiletries. He'd have to figure out with Dick a way to pay rent, too, but that was a later Danny problem. He'd tired himself out and was still running on pretty much empty. So, he allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd check on Dick when he woke up.

Part 4 Part 6

Tag List:

@flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581

938 notes · View notes

01zfan · 9 months

Text

in the middle | j. sc & s.es

fwb!sungchan x ex-situationship!eunseok x fem. reader | 5k words

debated on calling this “between a rock and a hard place”. based on a request. this fic took everything out of me seriously.

contains: oral (fem. receiving), multiple orgasms, threesomes, unprotected sex, they’re fucking like crazy

my roommate just left

you read the text on your phone. you thought about all your possible options. you considered completely abandoning the errands you had on your to-do list. but if you didn’t get them done now, you never would. you knew that each time you saw sungchan it was an all day affair. so you didn’t send a text back until you threw your laundry in the dryer and cleaned the rest of the dishes.

be there in twenty minutes.

okay baby i’ll leave the door unlocked.

you would have to chide him later for calling you baby. sungchan liked to play with you in that way. he’d purposely ignore the rules you both set from the beginning of your arrangement. sometimes you think he liked it when you got frustrated with him, when you’d be a little mean and tell him what to do and what not to do. that’s how most guys his height were. the size and muscle was just for show, he liked being bossed around.

sungchan also had the habit of calling you pet names in efforts to get you attached. he wanted you to be caught in the middle of being his girlfriend and friend, all the benefits but none of the work. you didn’t know much about sungchan’s life outside your arrangement with him, but you could tell he hasn’t been told no very much. you enjoyed the fact that he couldn’t get you hung up on him. once you realized it wasn’t so much about being your boyfriend but more-so you being his, denying him the right to call you pet names outside of the bedroom became satisfying. you showed up ten minutes later than when you said you would. setting up false expectations made you feel powerful, especially when he answers the door with his signature pouty face.

seeing him lean against the doorframe trying to be casual about you showing up late made you smile.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan said, crossing him arms.

“nothing,” you say. you cross your arms too. “you gonna let me in?”

you don’t have to say anything else for sungchan to move out of the way. you walk into his apartment like you own the place, you seem to be there more than his elusive roommate. you think you’ve heard his name once but you haven’t seen his face at all. that didn’t bother you too much. the less people that knew about you and sungchan the better.

“want some water? i made food too if you want some.” sungchan says.

you can see the dishes piled in the sink. you shake your head, taking off your coat. sungchan is behind you in an instant, taking the jacket from you.

you and sungchan eventually end up on his couch. every time you come over you guys do this. it’s a routine; one you both are very dedicated to. you sit on the couch and he sits next to you on the other end. sungchan always extends his arm out along the back of the couch and you move over to this side. he puts his arm around you, and pulls you in closer. he picks a show, one that you both have had to restart a million times. eventually sungchan’s other arm finds its way on your body. he uses his hand to tilt your face towards his. he looks at with his big brown puppy eyes, mainly looking at your lips. you shamelessly look at his. when you move his hand to your hips he knows you’re ready.

sungchan moves you to straddle his lap with ease. you don’t mind the routine you have with sungchan. he’s tall, strong, handsome, and the perfect amount of ruinous. the amount where he’s a perfect person to have no strings attached hookups with while not having to worry about him violating the rules you set with him. except for the pet names. but you let it slide when you feel his hot tongue on your neck and when he whispers in your ear.

“i want you so bad, baby.” he says.

you pull away and he gives you a big grin. the sarcastic toothy one, the one that tells you he knows he’s being defiant.

you puts your hands on his knees and lean your body to one side. he still has your hands on your hips. another thing you liked about sungchan was that he didn’t know his own strength. he was so desperate with his grip on you that you could feel his fingers close to prodding your hip bones. you looked at sungchan, smiling that same toothy grin back at him.

“i’m your baby?” you ask innocently.

sungchan nods immediately, his vice grip moving to your ass.

“can we go to your room?” you ask.

sungchan moves and you get ready to hop off the couch to follow him. instead, sungchan lifts your body over his shoulder and stands up from the couch. it happens so fast you let out a yelp when you’re hoisted into the air like you weigh nothing. you slap his back for picking you up so suddenly and in response he smacks your ass.

sungchan opens the door to his room and doesn’t waste a beat to throw you on his bed. it was moments like these that made you wonder why sungchan wanted you to be so bossy to him. he demonstrated his strength often but each time it surprised you. it took almost nothing for him to to toss and throw you, yet he was always hanging on your every word, every command.

“wasn’t that fun?” sungchan giggles at your shocked state.

you straighten your hair and clothes, trying to not look so jostled. when you move to the edge of the bed to take off your pants, sungchan joins you. he sits on the edge of the bed with you and starts kissing your neck. with a hand on his shoulder you brings him closer into your neck. his hand is over your center, cupping over the fabric that covers it. sungchan nips at your neck and then laughs when you let out a sigh.

“so jumpy babe.” sungchan sucks on your collarbone, moving your shirt down.

“take it off for me.” you say, lifting your arms up.

sungchan breaks away from your neck to help you out of your top. when the shirt is covering your head you can hear something outside, sounding like a lock clicking. as fast as the sound happens it’s out of your mind. sungchan doesn’t seem to notice either, too focused on getting you undressed. the shirt is halfway over your head when you see sungchan’s door swing open. through the fabric of the shirt you can see a tall figure stand in the doorway.

“sungchan you just can’t leave the dish—“

you knew who the voice belonged to without seeing him, you just couldn’t believe it. but when your shirt came all the way off, you couldn’t stop the confusion and shock from taking over your voice.

“eunseok?” you said.

you could hear a pen drop in the room. the silence was deafening. no one spoke until eunseok pointed a finger to you.

“this is the girl you were talking about?” eunseok looks over your body once before looking at sungchan.

you couldn’t stop looking at eunseok. you assumed sungchan was looking between the two of you trying to figure out the connection.

“you know eachother?” sungchan said. he looked at your shocked face, surprised that this is what renders you speechless.

eunseok looks at you, checking to see if you will say anything. he looks at sungchan and lets out a tense breath.

“remember the girl from last summer?” eunseok says with his eyes closed.

it was like a lightbulb went off over sungchan’s head. his eyes widen and you can feel his eyes burning in the side of your face.

“this is your ex?” sungchan puts his hand over his mouth. at the mentioning of ex you snap out of your shock.

“we were never together.” you say quickly.

it’s true and not true at the same time. a situationship would be a better word to call it. you met eunseok through a mutual friend. quickly it became something you’d describe as physical but somewhere along the way it became romantic. eventually you were calling him your boyfriend despite him never asking or deserving that title. you gave yourself grace, you were young and horny and somewhat in love. you were able to break it off with eunseok before you got too hurt or too attached. ironically, your situation with eunseok was used as an example when you came up with the rules for your arrangement with sungchan.

“you called me your man all the time.” eunseok says back to you. “does she call you her man?” eunseok asks, pointing to sungchan now. you can feel your face getting hot. you are suddenly very aware of how you are barely clothed in front of your ex situationship and current hookup.

“she barely calls me sungchan.” he says, looking at you. eunseok laughs and leans against the doorframe.

“oh so you’re not good in bed?” eunseok asks sungchan. eunseok has a slight pout, like he’s pondering something. eunseok asked the question innocently, but you can feel the tension in the air go up ten notches. before you can tell eunseok it’s none of his business, sungchan speaks.

“she hasn’t ghosted me, so i know i’m better than you.” sungchan says nonchalantly.

he leans back on the bed, tracing a hand on the opposite side of your body before he slightly pulls you into him. eunseok laughs, and walks towards you on the bed. you look up to him with wide eyes and he looks down at you. his hand goes to your cheek and you think about how you’ve been in this position with eunseok before, waiting for his next move.

“she ghosted me because it was too good right baby?” eunseok taps his index finger on your cheek. you can feel sungchan pull you into him more. “after the first time your were clinging to me like a little lost puppy.”

you wish you could deny the man that stands before you. but you recall the first time you had sex with him, the nonchalant guy who you had to make the first move on. you had no control over your actions anymore as you thought about the night he drew orgasm after orgasm out of you. just with eunseok’s hand on your cheek you remember all the fun you had with him, how he made you the most submissive you’ve ever been for a man. he was right that you ended things because it was too good, afraid that he would end up doing you worse than if you were alone. leaving him was the hardest decision you ever made, having to block him for your own sanity. when you nod your head yes to eunseok you can feel sungchan next to you stiffen.

“so mean baby. in front of your new fuck buddy too?” eunseok says. you turn to sungchan and see that he’s staring at eunseok now.

“she’s here for me eunseok. not you.” sungchan has his hand over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna be thinking about me the whole time aren’t you sweetheart?” eunseok still has his hand on your face. he looks like a dream in front of you. you try to gain your bearings, trying to sound confident.

“n-no. i’m with sungchan.” your accept that in your current situation a stutter can’t be controlled.

eunseok uses his finger to tap on your chin, and you feel yourself instinctually wanting to open your mouth. usually in this position eunseok would press his the pad of his thumb on your tongue, or to stick his index finger into your mouth. you figured he liked seeing you gag on him.

“who’s bigger?” eunseok says.

he talks to you in the voice he had when he wanted you to obey him, the one that made you always squirm when you had flashbacks to it. you can feel sungchan’s solid body next to you and you shake your head.

“i don’t know.” you say with wide eyes.

“who made you feel the best?” sungchan says.

sungchan speaking made you snap his head towards him. his angry expression towards eunseok is replaced with that smile, the one that made you know it was going to be a long day. you look to eunseok and then sungchan again. sungchan moves his hand to your head to tilt it, giving him access to your exposed neck.

“i-i don’t remember.” you stutter.

eunseok gets on his knees in front of you. you draw in a breath as he comes closer and closer to you. he uses his hands on the inside of your knees to push them apart. sungchan starts kissing your neck.

“what about i remind you?” eunseok says, slowly lowering his head.

he looks you in your eyes one last time, waiting for your permission to continue. you nod your head as sungchan starts sucking harshly on your neck to leave a mark. eunseok ducks his head down to your heat and you don’t know what to do feeling two pairs of hands on you. sungchan moves behind you and brings your back to his chest. his hands feel you up, tweaking your nipples and caressing your hair while eunseok pushes your thighs apart.

“oh my god.” you moan feeling eunseoks familiar tongue on you. eunseok laughs and looks up past you, to make eye contact with sungchan.

“you remember now?” eunseok says “because she hasn’t forgotten.” eunseok says into your heat.

your head lulls back against sungchan shoulder. he uses the opportunity to kiss your cheek. sungchan makes a show of playing with your boobs, like he is mocking eunseok for not having this type of access to you. eunseok responds by sucking on your clit. he brings a finger into your heat, pumping in and out quickly. you whimper pitifully, trying to hold onto anything to ground yourself.

“eunseok.” you say.

“i know,” he mockingly coos into your heat. “hold her tight.” he says to sungchan.

eunseok picks up the pace and sungchan uses one arm to wrap around your body, caging your arms at your side. the inability to move heightens the sensation. you are aware that you’re now at the mercy of two large men and it makes you feel lightheaded. eunseok pulls you forward causing you to slip from a little from sungchan’s grip. sungchan gathers you up again and eunseok shoots him a look because he’s pulling you away from him. eunseok leans forward onto the bed to keep in contact with your clitoris.

“you gonna cum on his face?” sungchan asks into your hair.

you nod and turn your head to face sungchan. he looks at you with hooded eyes and you can feel him twitch against your back. you must’ve been too focused on sungchan because eunseok loses his patience and pulls away to quickly slap your vagina. you yell in sungchan’s face but his expression doesn’t change. if anything his eyes become even more hooded at your unregulated action. sungchan starts to creep his hand down but before he can your releasing yourself over eunseok’s face. eunseok keeps you clean, licking up every drop of evidence that you came. he stands up from the floor and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“you remember now?” eunseok says smirking.

before you can nod, you feel sungchan flip you over so you’re on all fours. you look at eunseok from the new angle, upside down as you look at him from under your body. eunseok is replaced with sungchan as he bumps the other to the side. sungchan pushes you forward on the bed and you crawl trying to make room for him. sungchan is behind you, covering his digits in spit.

“watch this.” sungchan says to eunseok.

sungchan gathers saliva in his mouth before spitting on your pussy. the impact has your stretching your arms out on the bed and going more into an arch. when sungchan lightly smacks your pussy you bring covers to your face to muffle your whine. when you peer down between your legs you see sungchan look to eunseok as they bask in your reaction. you can’t help but moan at the sight, seeing your two men try so hard to outperform the other. they hide their desperation under the guise of competition, but you know them. whoever you choose to be the ‘loser’ of tonight will think about it for the rest of their life, sulking around their shared apartment. it doesn’t matter to you who you pick, it will probably be determined purely on chance. it doesn’t matter because you are absolutely winning when sungchan puts his index finger inside of you.

“she likes it messy.” sungchan says matter-of-factly.

eunseok scoffs at sungchan attempting to know you but works with sungchan to feel you up. both of their big hands roam the expanse of your body, eunseok spreadsingyour folds while sungchan fingers you. you put your hand behind you, grasping at nothing. eunseok gives you his hand and you hold it tight.

sungchan increases his speed as he places a sloppy kiss to your ass cheek. you squeeze eunseok’s hand when sungchan slaps the same place he kissed. you lurch forward but sungchan uses his arm to hold you place while he ravages you. it’s a mess to say the least, you can feel slick and spit roll down the back of your thighs. even though sungchan was messy, it usually wasn’t to this extent. he was determined to be the complete opposite of eunseok. you feel his hand pinch your clit and you let out a cry into the blanket.

“you’re gonna let him do that to you?” eunseok says.

“mhm.” you whine into the blanket.

“he always talks about how you boss him around, but look at you now.” eunseok coos.

at some point eunseok moved from beside sungchan to sit next to you on the bed. eunseok’s clothes were gone now too, but he didn’t touch himself. he used his hands to push hair out of your face and to rub your cheek.

“so fucking docile.” sungchan murmurs before going back to your pussy.

sungchan competes with you to drown out your moans with slurping sounds as he sloppily eats you out. the sound drives you crazy, and when sungchan slaps your ass again you come undone. eunseok holds your hands as you come in sungchan’s mouth, thighs twitching and you bucking backwards to grind on his tongue.

you let your body slide forward on the bed, two orgasms sucked out of you. the most you’ve ever done in one sitting was three, but you already feel spent from the never ending energy of the two competing men. you have a fleeting moment where you want to tell them to stop and decide the winner then and there but you want to see this through. you can already feel the anticipation building up again when eunseok guides you to to lay your back on the bed.

eunseok slots himself in between your legs and sungchan gets off the bed. you can hear clothes being removed and being thrown somewhere in the room. eungchan sits by your side, rubbing your arm. eunseok puts both your ankles behind his head. he uses an arm to straighten your legs, and brings his dick to your heat. you can feel the tip prodding at your entrance. you look at eunseok, waiting for him to fuck you and make up for lost time.

“what’s the safe word?” eunseok asks.

you look at sungchan and then eunseok. he givese you a withholding look, one that tells you that you won’t be getting anything until you answer him. you close your eyes.

“hibiscus” you say quietly.

“same word, huh?” eunseok laughs looking at sungchan’s expression. you hide your face in embarrassment but they are pulled away by sungchan.

“don’t hide, need to see you.” sungchan says and for the first time the two can agree on something. eunseok stares at you as he slides in, previous orgasms letting him bottom out with ease. you struggle to take it. your mouth opens with a silent whine.

“oh i know.” eunseok says.

eunseok slowly drags out and the way your thighs are pushed together makes you feel every ridge. you dig your nails into sungchan’s hand, feeling like your getting split open. eunseok puts his spare hand on your tummy, pressing hard as he pushes back in.

“you feel me?” eunseok asks, laughing at your fucked out expression.

“so big.” you whimper.

“told you.” eunseok says to sungchan.

eunseok grabs your hand from sungchan’s grasp and puts it on your stomach where it was previously. he keeps his hand over yours and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and you move without resistance. the palm of his hand overlaps the back of yours while he intertwines your fingers.

“missed your pussy.” eunseok says. you moan in response.

the gentle deep strokes turns to something faster. the pace causes your thighs to press together and slap against eunseok’s skin. your boobs move in tandem with his thrusts, you slowly begin losing your mind all over again. eunseok’s hand squeezes yours and you feel sungchan’s pair of hands return to your body. his touches are light as a feather, grazing over every part of your body. you can feel his fingertips run over your chest, your stomach, nose, everything. you feel sungchan all over you and you feel eunseok inside of you.

“i missed your dick.” you say.

“oh i know sweetheart. i know.” eunseok says. he’s having trouble understanding what you say to him at this point. he’s getting lost in you, thinking about how sungchan has been fucking you this whole time. eunseok debates on giving you a baby, one that looks like him so you’ll never forget him.

he opts to finish on your stomach, pulling out after he rubs your clit until your thighs close around his hand. high pitched squeaks fall from your mouth and eunseok can see slick glisten as it comes from you. you shake and then it subsides. eunseok swipes his finger down your slit and sucks on the digit, trying to remember until he can taste you again

you see sungchan looking over you when you come down from your high. a smile plays on his lips when he pinches your cheek. you are too exhausted to stop him, shaky hands still holding onto eunseok’s.

“you got one more in you? for me?” sungchan asks.

his hand drifts down to your clit. instead of pinching it like he did before, he does a soft revolution. you’re guessing he does it to gauge your reaction, how sensitive you truly are. you squirm underneath his touch, and you hear eunseok gasp when you clench around his sensitive dick. eunseok pulls out and you look up to sungchan with pleading eyes. you don’t know what you’re begging for, but you still feel insatiable despite being three orgasms in.

“i think you got one more in ya.” sungchan says.

he flips you over, putting you back in a doggy position. you hear eunseok scoff behind you, but you’re so focused on what sungchan is going to do to you that you don’t spare eunseok a glance. you think it’s about the position, eunseok asking sungchan if he’s a one trick pony. you almost object when you hear sungchan tell eunseok he can ask you later about all his other tricks.

sungchan’s hand splays across your lower back, helping your sweaty body go into a deeper arch. sungchan wastes no time putting a finger inside of you. a moan rips through you and you lean backwards, trying to grind on his digits.

just as quick as his fingers are inside of you, he pulls them out. sungchan uses his two hands on your ass to spread you and push you forward. you let yourself glide down on the bed, your lower half getting closer and closer to the sheets.

“lay across eunseok, baby.” sungchan says behind you.

you have nothing left in you to tell him you aren’t his baby. maybe you are at this point. regardless, you listen to his request and immediately let your lower half drape across eunseok’s thighs. this angle helps you keep your ass elevated than the rest of your body and eunseok has a hand on your body to help maintain that arch. you look up at eunseok, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. he looks at you, then looks at your pussy. his eyes are dark as he looks at your womanhood, puffy and sensitive.

“such a good girl.” eunseok purrs. you nod your head, happy at to get the approval.

“don’t forget to say my name, okay?” sungchan says. you can hear the smirk behind his snide comment.

sungchan gets close to your body, so close that you can feel his shirt slightly touching your back. you think he has taken it off when you no longer feel it grazing your skin but you just see he has taken the bottom of his shirt and put it in his mouth. something about it is so hot, he want to fuck you so bad and has been so caught up in his stupid little competition he hasn’t even thought to get himself undressed. you think it’s a shame, you love seeing his chiseled body he hides with baggy clothes. but something is equally as intoxicating as only being able to get a peak of his body through the tiny portion of his shirt he has lifted up. you can see only a little bit of his abs, sleek from sweat. you think about how badly you want to touch his body when he uses his hand to guide himself into you. you’re no longer making sounds you recognize, letting out something between a moan and a cry when you feel how deep sungchan is reaching inside of you.

he’s relentless, clapping his front against your ass. each time he bottoms out he grinds inside of you. you’re seeing white when he picks up the speed, moving his hips languidly into you. sungchan comes close pressing his body to you. you can feel how solid he is against you beneath the shirt. he comes all the way to your ear, taking your earlobe into his mouth and laving his hot tongue around the area.

“you like it don’t you, sweetheart?” he whispers into your ear.

nothing comes out of your mouth except for drool. it gets on eunseok’s legs as he watches sungchan fuck you.

“you usually have so much to say, honey.” sungchan says.

he kisses your cheek and you strain your neck so he can kiss more of you.

“such a cutie.” sungchan giggles as he pulls back his hips. “can you say my name?”

“s-sungchan.” you pull together the last of your bearing to say his name.

sungcahn picks up the speed, fucking you into the mattress. you hold onto the sheets and you manage to perk your ass up even more. you’re so close and sungchan knows it, bringing a hand to your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, only placing it there as a reminder. it drives you crazy, knowing he has the power to close his hand around your neck. sungchan looks over to eunseok, watching you two like a hawk.

“say my name again.”

“sungchan.” you moan. you say his name a thousand more times as you cum around him, fourth orgasm making you see stars and leaves you shaking like a leaf. you are in space as your orgasm washes over you. sungchan’s thrust get sloppy quickly as he finishes too. he says your name mixed in with the petnames you chastise him for and his sweat seeps through his shirt, making your back even more sweaty.

sungchan is still inside of you when you relax on eunseok’s legs. you try to fight sleep, but the decreasing rate of his heart and steady breaths slowly tells you to close your eyes. you are spent in every sense of the word, going to sleep with sungchan still inside of you.

“eunseok,” sungchan whispers, trying not to wake you up. eunseok looks from his spot on the bed to your sleeping face “is she asleep?”

eunseok nods his head.

sungchan sighs contently, slightly lifting you so he can pull out. sungchan watches eunseok slip out from under you and leave the room. sungchan carefully moves your body to lay on the bed next to him. he looks at your serene face and moves hair out of the frame of your face, kissing your forehead. sungchan tries to catch his breath, mind still reeling from the last couple hours. he’s enjoying his alone time with you when eunseok comes back into the room with a warm rag. the two work together to wipe you down, you wake up in a daze when they reach your core.

“it’s sensitive.” you sleepily whine.

“shhh go back to sleep.” the two men say in unison. they look at each other and the air becomes competitive again. sungchan gets the urge to draw you a bath and eunseok suddenly wants to cook you a three course meal for when you inevitably wake up hungry.

they continue wiping you down and they sungchan tucks you in. they close sungchan’s door behind them and they sit on the couch in the living room while you rest. eunseok and sungchan falls into their usual roommate routine. sungchan presses play on another show and eunseok grabs a drink from the fridge. the two sit in silence for a moment, then eunseok turns towards sungchan.

“i was better.”

#requestz #01zfan: eunseok #01zfan: sungchan #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #riize smut

1K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 4 days

Note

hello mae ! could i ask for an apple pie with any of the marauders with these prompts?

“a flea market wedding dress” & “hands stained with pen ink”

it would also be alright if it’s just the first one if ever you don’t feel like writing with two of them in mind !

- 🧸 (i always forget to sign off with this 😭)

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: some non-sexual nudity (it's hardly mentioned only really implied)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 749 words

“Do we need eggs?” Remus asks from the other room.

“I don’t think so.” You zip the dress up in the back, relishing in the smooth feel of the fabric on your skin. It fits like it was made for you. “I’m not feeling very eggy lately. Our last ones went bad.” You smile at yourself in the mirror, going to show Remus.

“It just feels strange not to have eggs…” he trails off as you come into view. It’s not your appearance that surprises him—you’ve been showing off your finds from the flea market since you got home—but the dress itself. “That’s pretty.” He sounds a tad breathless. “It’s, um. It’s white.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “it was someone’s wedding dress, once. Isn’t it nice?” You give him a little twirl. “I think if I take out some of the layers in the skirt it could be cute for summer. Very flowy.”

“Very.” Remus caps the pen he was using for your grocery list, amusement coloring his tone. “You look lovely in it, dove. You know everyone will think we’re getting married when you wear it out, though, don’t you?”

“With the way you dress?” You grin. It worsens when he stands, coming over to you with a grin of his own. “Doesn’t seem likely.”

“My jumpers are very dapper,” he says, smiling into a kiss.

You hum noncommittally, and he gives your middle a playful warning squeeze. A quick peck to your lips, then another, longer and sweeter. You set your hands on his chest, feeling the soft material of the jumper he’s wearing now.

“I don’t know,” you tease, looking down at your contrasting outfits. “I think—oh, Remus!”

You move away from him, but the damage is done. Two smudges of ink remain on your dress where his fingertips were.

Remus is quick to follow your gaze. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” you say, even as your heart sinks.

“No, dovey, I’m so sorry.” He looks like he wants to reach for you again, but he looks at his hands and swears instead. “I can—wait one second.”

He goes back around the counter, and you hear the sink running.

“Really,” you say, “it’s fine. It was only a few quid.”

“No, but you were excited about it. I think I can get it out.”

“It’s ink, Rem, it’s…”

You trail off as he comes back around the corner, soapy dish sponge in hand, and presses it to your dress.

“What…” You move your arm out of the way. Remus settles a hand on your hip, holding the both of you steady as he bends closer to your waist. He swipes the sponge over the fabric with a concentrated furrow between his brows. “Are…are you washing me?”

“I’m getting the stain out.”

“I don’t think soap is going to do it, honey.”

The look your boyfriend casts up at you is equal parts loving and exasperated. “It usually works for me. This isn’t my first time getting ink on clothes.”

That, you can believe. The writing in Remus’ notebooks is always smeared, the culprit to be found in his inky hands. Sometimes you swear he gets black and blue stains up to his elbows. You’ve no clue how he manages it.

“Now we only need to put baking soda on it, and it should come out.” He gives your dress one last good scrub with the sponge.

“Right,” you say hesitantly. “So should I just lie down for that, or…”

“I probably should have had you take it off first,” Remus admits. “I panicked, a little bit.”

You laugh. He looks relieved to hear it, some of the guilt easing from his expression. “That’s my fault, I guess.” You unzip the back of your dress, trying to step out of it without disturbing the stain.

“No, I think it’s all still mine,” Remus says, but he takes it from you.

Once he’s done arranging it in the sink and piling it with baking soda, he comes back to you, slotting a hand behind your ear and letting his fingers slip into your hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He kisses you.

You roll your eyes. He knows you can’t be cross at him when he does that.

“You just didn’t want me to be better dressed than you,” you say, though there’s nothing but fondness to be found in your tone.

“You’re always better dressed. As you’ve said, the bar isn’t high.”

“Oh, shut up. You know I like your jumpers just fine.”

379 notes · View notes

theorphicangel · 6 months

Text

#2 “let me take care of you, okay?

warnings: none, fluff.

boyfriend miguel series.

You didn’t know what you had done to the universe to deserve all of this.

From the moment you woke up things didn’t go your way. First a broken coffee cup, then a stain on your white shirt, followed by turning your apartment inside out for 15 minutes after losing your car keys whilst simultaneously trying not to start into a hysterical breakdown. Then having two deadlines piled up on you for the end of this week, managers giving you a million and one things to do and after listening to the high-pitched whining of that bitchy co-worker who spreads gossip like wildfire has now resulted in a heavy migraine.

Yet, somehow you still had to put a smile on your face. You couldn’t break down, not here and not now. There’s no time and there’s no excuses, you have to be professional.

That was the message ingrained into your brain from the second you clocked in till the second the clock hit five. But instead of relief the heavy weight of stress and work linger on your shoulders, following you down to the car-park and on your journey home. The invisible weight waits around you like a shadow as you wait for the elevator to pick you up, only getting heavier with every step that you take towards your apartment.

The weight still doesn’t disappear as you open the door to your apartment, the familiar scent of your favorite dish cooking in the air. You slide off your shoes, too exhausted to call out your boyfriend’s name. A habit that you usually do when returning home.

“Is that you, mi amor?”

You hesitate in responding, mind distracted as you slip off your coat. “Uhh– yeah, yeah.”

Miguel turns the corner, hands on his waist. He’s in a simple outfit of gray sweatpants and a black plain tee. He frowns a little as you place your bag on the floor. You’re a little less excited than usual.

Normally, you’d be bouncing into his arms right now, rambling about your day whilst trying to simultaneously pepper kisses across his lips. You swore one day you’d find a way to kiss and talk to him at the same time.

You say nothing more as you walk into the living area, eyes avoiding him.

“Did you have a good day?” You notice the low tone of concern. You know that he knows this isn’t your usual self.

“Yeah, yeah.” You try to reassure him with a smile, a forced smile. Like the picture of you in your senior year of high school on the fireplace at your mother’s house. Miguel remembers your embarrassment, turning over the picture frame whilst calling out to your mom in annoyance for having that picture on display.

But no, maybe this one is a little different. It’s more disheartening.

Miguel watches you disappear into the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind you. He’s not sure what to do, standing in the middle of the living room like an idiot. Does he go after you or do you want to be alone? Should he plate up your food or are you not hungry?

Instead he waits, deciding to give you space for a little bit before asking. Thankfully, you’re only gone for less than fifteen minutes, re-emerging from what looks like a well needed shower and your favorite hoodie of his.

For the first time tonight, you finally meet his eyes and without a single word you find yourself wrapped in his arms. He never really understood it when you said he was the best at giving hugs. He didn’t do anything special, he just…hugged you. He figured that maybe his height had something to with it but other than that he just held you as tight as he could, almost afraid that you’d suddenly disappear in his arms.

You bury yourself into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head as you do so. His large, calloused hand rubs small circles into your back and without saying a single word his comfort is more than enough.

Coming up to the surface, you begin to feel ready to let it all out. You feel your throat grow tight as you try to speak.

“Today was just shit, mig, I can’t–” Even the recollection of it causes your eyes to swell up with tears. All you wanted to do was to hide away from the world, the thought of clocking in tomorrow makes your stomach flip upside down.

Miguel hums, “Just let me take care of you, okay?”

His arms wrap around you a little tighter as the words leave his mouth in a soft tone.

“Okay.” is all you have to say and all that heaviness from earlier which tormented your body seems to disappear, your mind now preoccupied with the way that Miguel holds you. You pull away, glancing up at him now as you finally let it all out.

“Work was shit.”

Miguel hums, continuing to rub small circles into your back as you spill out anything and everything that has pissed you off today.“...I’m just done, I don’t even think I want to go in tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to, I’ll call in sick for you.”

“Really?” You struggle to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Really, mi vida, didn’t I say I would take care of you?”

“You don’t have to mig’”

You let out a giggle as Miguel clicks his tongue in faux annoyance. “I want to.” He emphasizes. “How many times do I have to tell you? I want to take care of you.” He leans down a little to place a kiss on your forehead. His soft brown eyes meet yours, a silent plea before the words even leave his mouth. “Let me take care of you…please.”

You shut your eyes, taking in the sensations around you; your mind now coaxing your body to rest.

Yes, you’ll give in for tonight, you think. You’ll let him take care of you.

thank you sm for reading!! reblogs are much appreciated!

#angel writes #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #spiderman: across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse

451 notes · View notes

inkbybambi · 9 months

Text

The Favorite

summary: bar owner john price kisses you under the mistletoe words: 4.9k rating: e warnings: fem!reader, praise kink/praises, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, pet names, biting/marking, finger sucking, size kink, john steals your panties, please let me know if i missed anything. this has been edited to the best of my ability. notes: this is my contribution to @bunnyreaper's call of duty secret santa exchange and is dedicated to @a-very-bored-blogger ♡ my blog and all my works are 18+ so minors dni. proper warnings have been provided.

Being the boss’s favorite has its perks.

You’re the first to try new spirits and brews he orders for the bar. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his snort of amusement each time your face scrunches up when something tastes particularly awful.

You try to hide your blush when he delicately takes the glass from your hand, fingers briefly touching, throwing back the rest of the drink without flinching.

Smug bastard always winks after.

You’re the only one allowed to lounge in his office on your lunch, even when he’s not there. You ignored the pointed looks from the others when he first gave you the key. It dangles on a pink, heart-shaped carabiner. There’s a drawer of snacks and a mini-fridge that’s always stocked for you. A pile of your books are stacked on his desk with his other papers, most of them he gifted himself.

You never see the way his cheeks go pink every time you read one of the books he chose.

You’re the only one allowed to take the beanie off his head. Sometimes he puts it there himself. Soap tried it once and never again after his hand got thwacked with a wet dish rag.

Your favorite perk?

The way he lingers when you’re the one closing, always nearby as you wipe down the counters and dry the glasses. The gentle press of his palm at the small of your back when he maneuvers around you; when he hands you something you’ve asked for and his eyes glitter when you say thank you; the soft touch at the nape of your neck when you’re finally done and tucking the rag away, gently guiding you to the door.

Sometimes he walks you home. Sometimes he drives you. You’ve begun to look forward to it now.

Lately — more often than not — you find yourself hiked up on the counter, John standing between your legs, radiating heat like a furnace, his big hands cupping your face as his tongue slides deep into your mouth, tasting you and swallowing your soft whines.

He always tastes like cigars, which you complained about at first, but now you couldn’t care about when his fingers thread though your hair, tipping your head to the side so he can slide his mouth along the line of your throat, beard scratching your skin.

He’s careful to not leave any marks. But each time his teeth skim the column of your throat, he presses sharper, harder.

You want him to bite you.

Everyone assumes you two are fucking anyway.

He said he’d walk you home.

Twenty minutes ago.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless, pressing his nose against your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into him, lightly scratching at the base of his skull.

“Should get you home,” he rumbles low in his chest, voice like gravel. It makes you ache.

You can’t say much apart from a small hum of agreement, not wanting to leave the warmth of his body.

He doesn’t make any effort to pull away either.

His lips drag from your cheek to your jaw, nipping at the hinge before soothing it with his tongue. You shudder on an inhale, waiting for what’s next.

“Let me get your bag,” he murmurs, voice still soft as if he doesn’t want to shatter the calm that’s settled over you two, like a veil of gossamer protecting you from the outside world.

With one last, slow kiss, he leaves to gather your bags, slipping his beanie on your head and walking you out.

He clicks the lights off.

No matter how many times or how often you find yourself wrapped in winter’s cold embrace of snow and icy wind, you hate it.

You like it from the inside. with a warm drink of whatever — sometimes spiked, if you’re feeling cheeky — and blessedly not outside.

This is your first Christmas with the bar — with the boys — and John invited you to help decorate for the season.

This is your first time feeling like you belong somewhere. The boys have been together for years now, as you’ve learned over your time with them, but they took you in and made you feel welcome from the very start.

You, however, felt awkward the first couple shifts, as to be expected. One night, about a week settling into the job, you stood up to a particularly rowdy client — Gaz and Soap minding the bar with you, exchanging glances with each other and keeping an eye on the situation; Simon and John lingering around the billiard tables with some regulars, also with an eagle eye on you. You didn’t back down to his crass attitude and sharp words, damn near throwing the lime you were cutting at his face. A tense moment or so passed before he submitted, mumbling an apology and throwing a twenty pound note on the bar along with the rest of his tab, slinking to a seat in the back.

Closing the bar a few hours later, Soap handed you a shot of something gross with a proud smirk on his face, Gaz excitedly talking with you, relaying the moment with vigor, his eyes sparkling with amusement as if you were some sort of superhero. Simon, far more subdued than the others and wearing his skull-painted balaclava, simply gives you a nod of approval as he raises a glass to you.

That was the first night john kissed you.

You’ve felt at home ever since.

Snow flurries cling to your lashes as you trudge through layers of snow, scarf wrapped up around your nose and John’s beanie pulled down as much as possible.

You tried to return it last night before he left, but he insisted on you keeping it. You’re grateful for that now, stuffing your hands as deep into your pockets as possible, hating the way the wind bites so fiercely, it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all — bones and blood turning to ice.

Ten excruciatingly cold minutes later, you stumble into the bar, shaking yourself off like a wet dog and stomping your boots to dislodge the snow clinging to the sole. Some of it buried into the back of your boot while walking, and you try not to make a face when your socks feel damp.

“There she is!” comes Soap’s cheerful call, standing behind the bar with a cardboard box in front of him.

You unravel yourself from the scarf and dust off the beanie from the last of the snow, wiggling your fingers as you make your way over so you can start feeling them again. John turns to look at you with a warm smile, and you flush under his attention. Simon accepts a glass from Gaz, tipping it towards him in thanks. Gaz passes glasses to John and Soap next, finally setting one down at the seat next to John — intended for you, as he gives you a knowing smirk, which you pointedly ignore with a roll of your eyes — and sipping from his own as he settles next to Soap.

“What’s this?” you ask, taking a sip.

“That’s a gin and tonic, love,” Gaz replies easily, and you give him an unamused look.

“I meant the box,” you clarify, as Soap chuckles and uses a box cutter to open it, taking out a sheet of paper and reading over it with a soft smile on his lips.

“This,” he says, pulling a knit sweater from the box and checking the sticky note on the front, handing it to John, “is tradition.”

You take a healthy sip — Gaz uses a heavy hand —and watch as he continues to pull the sweaters from the box, handing one to Simon and then Gaz. he takes another from the box, resting it in front of him.

“Ma nana, bless her, makes us Christmas jumpers,” he says with a fond smile. You watch as Gaz eagerly strips his current sweater to put the new one on.

Your heart aches, but the corner of your lips quirk up as you watch even Simon pull his on.

He reaches into the box again, one last sweater being handed to you. “Ah told her ‘bout you,” he begins as you take it from him, unraveling it and feeling the sting of tears line your eyes. “She says welcome to the family.”

You blink at him with teary eyes and he coos at you, leaning over the counter to squish your cheeks affectionately.

“Go on then, hen,” he says as he releases you, nodding towards the jumper. You eagerly strip out of your jacket, taking the beanie off and settling it on the counter before pulling the sweater over your head.

It fits like a dream.

“Don’t ask,” Soap says with a wink, taking a sip and turning away so you wouldn’t even have the chance to ask.

You look over to John, blue eyes dark as he takes you in, something unreadable in his expression. His eyes flick to yours, gaze softening as he gives you one of his signature smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners so you know it’s real, reaching out to ruffle your hair before standing from his seat.

“Right then,” he says, “let’s get to work.”

After the garland has been hung, mistletoe put over every possible doorway thanks to soap, fake poinsettias and other decorations spread all throughout the bar, you deem it to be ready for the holiday.

Or as ready as it can be, but you’ll take what you can.

The boys turn one of the tvs on to watch the premier league game, lounging in their new, festive jumpers and drinks on the table. You take the moment to slip away to the back office where john is, having retreated there himself a half-hour earlier.

The door is slightly ajar, but you knock lightly before pushing it open a little more.

John sits at his desk, sweater pushed up his forearms and stretching across his broad chest. You swallow a pathetic whimper, turning to close the door. You don't lock it — fingers crossed the game keeps the boys occupied enough to not worry about you.

He watches you with those same dark eyes — arousal dampening your panties — as you make your way over to him. He pushes his chair back enough for you to climb into his lap, settling yourself comfortably over his thick thighs. Your fingers card affectionately through his mutton chops, and he lets out a pleased hum, closing his eyes.

“I got you a gift,” you confess in a whisper, shy and uncertain.

His eyes flick open, clearly intrigued, but doesn’t prompt you any further. He rests his hands on your hips, dipping under the hem of the sweater to grasp your waist, thumbs rubbing affectionately over your skin, pulling you closer.

“Did you now?” he asks, clearly amused, hands drifting higher. You let out an indignant squeak, swatting his chest.

“It’s not me!” you say, though the idea certainly isn’t a bad one.

“Pity,” he muses, chuckling, before his hands come back to respectfully settle on your waist. “What is it, then?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, suddenly worrying that it’s too much, or that it’s not enough, or he won’t like it or —

“Love?” he prompts you, as if he could sense the way you’re spiraling into your own mind.

You balance yourself up on your knees — which doesn’t help your claim that you’re not the gift — pulling out a slightly crumpled, white envelope from your back pocket. You press it against his chest, unable to meet his eyes. His hand — warm and broad and comforting — comes up to rest over yours for a moment before he takes the envelope, opening it with a raised eyebrow.

He looks over the tickets that rest inside, before he looks back to you, taken off guard.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper, even though the holiday is weeks away. He surges up to kiss you, tickets pressed to your cheek as he licks into your mouth, a surprised noise rising in your throat.

Resting your hands on his shoulders, you sink into the kiss, slipping deeper into his lap as his tongue presses against yours, the familiar warmth settling over you.

“How did you..?” he asks, breathless, moving to press kisses over your cheeks and jaw, and you giggle and push him away, his beard tickling your skin.

“I used this thing called money,” you tease, scratching at his beard as he rolls his eyes, “which my lovely boss gives me every two weeks.”

“Cheeky,” he laughs, returning the tickets to the envelope and placing it on the desk. “You’ll go with me, yeah?”

Not that he has to ask, but it’s still a sweet gesture.

Two tickets to a Newcastle game are tucked into the envelope, set for some time in the new year. You can’t think of a better way for it to begin.

You know John has a jersey— he wears it on game day. You always appreciate the way you’re able to unashamedly stare at his forearms, corded muscle working as he pours drinks and cleans the counter top. He’s unfairly attractive in it.

He grasps one of your wrists lightly, breaking you from your reverie, turning it enough to drag his lips across your palm.

You fall quiet as you watch him, kissing each of your fingertips, and then pressing your palm against his cheek, looking up at you with reverence, like you were something to worship, to spread out and show his devotion to you.

“You know Soap put mistletoe above my door before you came in,” he murmurs and you raise an eyebrow.

“Did he?”

He hums low in his throat, hands going underneath your jumper once more. You bite your lip as they graze up and down your sides, inching higher and higher.

"Well I’m not one to break tradition,” you reply, leaning in close to press your lips against his.

You happily sit in his lap as you indulge in his kisses, languid and deep, so content you could almost purr.

“I have a gift for you too,” he says against your lips, biting at it lightly before kissing the corner of your mouth. You make an interested noise, not wanting to pull away from his mouth, from him. He chuckles as he gives in to kiss you once more, hands beginning to ruck up your jumper.

He rocks his hips up against yours, and you whine almost pathetically into his mouth, pawing at his shoulders.

“It’s not this,” he says, clearly amused, but pushes you away enough to bring your jumper up over your head, leaving you in one of your nicer, lacy bras — if you wore it specifically for him, you’ll never tell.

He’s kind enough to fold it over and place it on his desk before turning his attention back to you.

“God, look at you,” he marvels, leaning in to press his lips to your collar, down to the valley between your breasts.

You flush under his attention, one hand braced on the middle of your back, his other dragging the fabric of your bra down, laving his tongue over your nipple, biting it gently to a firm peak and sealing his lips over it.

“Fuck,” you exhale shakily, gripping the nape of his neck, feeling the way he hardens under your touch, arousal slicking your panties, sticky and wet where you’re pressed against him.

He deftly unhooks your bra, dragging the straps down until it pools in your lap. He immediately moves to mouth over your other nipple, thumb brushing over the hardened nub that’s already shining with his spit.

He stands suddenly, bra falling forgotten to the floor as he settles you onto his desk, licking deeper into your mouth as you move to undo his belt, feeling almost frantic with the need to feel him.

“You’re so gorgeous, darling,” he says against your lips, his own hands unbuttoning your jeans. You manage to pull his belt loose, pushing his jeans and boxers down enough to feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock before he stops you.

“Wait a second, love,” he’s gentle as he grasps your wrists. “Wanna get yours off first,” he adds.

You pout — just a little — but acquiesce to his request, tilting your hips enough for him to pull your jeans and underwear down to your ankles.

“Ah. Fuck,” he sighs, exasperated, before he kneels down — a little awkwardly, with the state of his own bottoms — to unlace your boots to drop them to the floor, your panties and jeans following soon after.

“There,” he sighs as he grasps your face for a kiss, and you hum happily against his mouth, gripping him for stability.

“Are you sure this isn’t my gift?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, as he drags his mouth to your cheek and then to nip the lobe of your ear.

He laughs, and it goes right to your core, molten heat trickling down your spine, leaking from your pussy to the desk underneath.

“I promise,” he says, voice low, pressing a tantalizing kiss to the soft, sensitive skin behind your ear.

When you open your mouth to reply, he rests two fingers on your bottom lip, almost touching the tip of your tongue.

He’s asking permission, you realize, so you take his wrist to draw his fingers further into your mouth, closing your lips around his thick fingers, tongue slipping between them and sucking them deeper.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, a deep honey drawl that makes you weak. You swallow back a whine. he presses his fingers down against your tongue, and you blink up at him through glassy doe eyes, still grasping his wrist lightly.

You whimper, when he’s too enchanted with the sight of his fingers deep in your mouth, arousal coating your thighs. Glazed eyes turn to you, a hum of approval reverberating in his throat. he slowly withdraws them, your lips glossy with spit.

His fingers drift down to your cunt, already soaking with need, dragging them lazily through your folds to mix your own spit into the mix. He leans down to kiss you, and you rest your hand on his cheek to keep him close.

“So wet for me already, darling,” he marvels as he continues to gather your slick on his fingers, moving up to press gently against your clit, rubbing it in slow, soft circles. “Think you can take both?” he glides his fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your walls flutter in anticipation.

You nod eagerly and he leans close to kiss you, licking into the heat of your mouth; at the same time, he sinks both fingers into you, far more gentle that you expected. The stretch catches you off guard, gasping against his lips. He pulls back, a hair’s breadth apart, merely breathing you in as your walls clench around him, trying to get used to the feeling of him filling you full.

“Too much?” he murmurs.

“Just,” with a shake of your head, you breathe in, moving to grip his neck, nails sinking into his skin. You want to leave your own marks on him. “Been awhile,” you admit on the exhale, drawing him back in to kiss, relaxing into his touch while he happily gives into you.

Your mouth drags from his, to the corner of his lips, over to his cheek, right where the line of his beard starts to tickle your skin. He's kind, and patient, and so, so good to you.

“Good?” he asks when you rock your hips into his touch, but he doesn’t start moving his fingers until you actually say yes, pressing the word to his cheek like a promise.

He’s surprisingly delicate with his touch, as he is with everything else when it comes to you, but the filthy sound of your slick and spit fills the air along your quiet noises, choking down your whines and mewls.

Soap would be insufferable if he found out about this.

“I know it feels good, love,” he says against your lips, his own curled into a smirk — cocky bastard — “You have to keep quiet for me though, yeah?”

But then his fingers curl and graze the spot inside you that leaves you trembling, head tipping back as your nails dig deeper into the nape of his neck. He continues to rock his fingers against that spot, deadly precision as he takes the opportunity to bite at the column of your throat, the sting of his teeth making you feel delirious with pleasure.

“Fuck, John,” you whine as you draw him close enough to hide your face into the collar of his sweater, the scent of cigars and sex making your head spin, thoughts turning to static. “‘m gonna cum,” you pant against his collar, trying so desperately to keep yourself quiet.

It’s not going particularly well.

Another few pumps of his fingers, your clit under his thumb, and white hot pleasure pools down your spine. You muffle your moan against him as your legs shake and cum spills over his fingers. He works you through it, soft praises whispered against the crown of your head.

You’re pliant in his arms, all the tension seeping from your body as he slowly withdraws his fingers. You grab for his wrist, eyes bleary and glossy, feeling the weight of his gaze as you draw his fingers into your mouth, licking your release from him.

“Fuckin’ hell, love,” he groans, grasping your face, tongue pressing into your mouth, “Gonna be the death of me.”

He finally allows you to push his bottoms down enough to free his cock, hard and heavy against his stomach, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. You go to reach for him, eager to touch him just as he touched you, but he captures your wrist, pressing a gentle kiss to your pulse, and moves to tip you back against the desk.

You grip the hem of his jumper, something of a pout gracing your lips as you blink up at him, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He takes his off with far less grace than he did your own, but still has enough sense to try and fold it, placing it over yours.

It is a gift, after all.

“Better?” he asks, a chuckle rising as you immediately move to trace over the planes of his chest, nails scratching through the dark hair that litters his body. Faint red marks are left in the wake of your touch, all the way down to his hips, a thatch of hair in a line leading down to his length.

“Much,” is your reply as you drag him close to you, nose buried in his throat to smell cigar smoke and sandalwood, the comfort and musk making you keen, impatient for his touch, his kiss, his cock.

He braces one hand by your hip, caging you against him, and you tilt up enough to lace your legs around his waist, wanting to bury yourself into his veins, wanting to be as close as possible. He takes himself in his other hand, dragging it through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit.

You whine at him.

He gives you a soft kiss before moving to kiss your collar, watching as his cock sinks into you — just the tip. He keeps his hold on himself, dragging himself in and out, feeling the way your cunt tries so desperately to draw him deeper. The wet heat makes his breath stutter, tests his patience so he doesn’t sheath himself completely in one sharp thrust, wanting to do this — needing to do this — properly, even if you are fucking in his office instead of his bed.

“John,” you damn near sob against his temple, lacing one arm around his shoulders, unashamed with how desperate you are to feel all of him.

He accidentally slips from your heat, and guides himself back, notching the fat head at your entrance, already shiny with your desire. He pushes in slowly, and you gasp and grab at him, head tipping back as your eyes close, never having felt so full before.

“F-fuck,” you whine, having enough sense to bring your gaze back to watch as he sheathes himself completely inside you, your clit pressing against the dark hairs at the base of his dick.

“Such a good girl for me.”

His teeth latch on to the side of your neck, biting hard enough to leave an imprint, keeping himself still until you mewl out a soft move, please.

He captures your mouth with his own when he starts thrusting in earnest, swallowing each moan and cry that rises from your throat, wishing the desk wouldn’t squeak so fucking loud, the schlick of his cock pumping in and out of your soaked pussy making it impossible to focus on anything else.

He lays you down against the desk, hooking your legs under his arms to press them up by your side, allowing him to push even deeper, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, each a little more brutal than the last. Your nails thread through his hair, the strands damp with his sweat, and you bring them down to his shoulders, his arms, digging in sharp to continue leaving your marks all over him.

“Careful now, pet,” he taunts, right in your ear, a shiver going down your spine right to your pussy, clenching tighter around him in response. “Only mark me if you’re gonna keep me.”

You’re breathless as you respond, the pleasure pooling in your gut and spreading throughout like liquid fire — unable to think of anything but him, and the way he touches you, and the way his teeth sink into your neck until you squeal with the sharp, biting pain that he soothes with his tongue.

“I will, I will,” you say, nails digging in deeper — a show of devotion, of loyalty. “I promise.”

“My darling girl.”

The praise, the possession — it burns you from the inside out.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, so close to the precipice of your second orgasm, pleasure like venom lining your blood.

“Taking my cock so well, love, fuckin’ made for me.” His voice is low, almost a growl, your cum making a thick ring of cream, wetting the base of him. “You need to cum so badly, don’t you?”

Past the point of being able to form words, you cry and nod, tears spilling down your cheeks. You're overwhelmed, hands moving down to hold him by his waist, too weak to do anything more than lay there and take anything he gives you.

“Cum on my cock, darling, I want to feel it.”

You’d never think he’d have such a filthy mouth, but it’s just enough to snap the coil of pleasure that’s been building. You arch up into him, his name on your lips, unable to hold back any longer as you shake with the force of it.

He buries himself to the hilt inside you, feeling the pulses of his cock as thick streams of his cum paint your insides, filling you full. He pants out a Jesus Christ, pressing his weight down on you, his spend starting to leak from where he’s still buried deep inside you.

You lay there, comforted by his weight and warmth, the scent of sex and sweat mixing with the ever-present smell of cigar smoke that’s practically embedded into his skin.

After a few minutes of laying there, John presses soft kisses to the column of your throat — over the imprints of his teeth, his imprints, that litter your skin — and he pulls out of you slowly. You whine at the loss, feeling so empty now without him inside you, burrowed close to your heart. His cum drips from your cunt, gathering on the table below.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, pulling his own bottoms up and slipping back into his jumper, walking around the side of the desk — dropping a kiss to your temple — and leaves, coming back only moments later with a washcloth. He wipes you down so gently, a second one dragging over your skin in light strokes to dry you off.

He helps sit you up, gripping your waist and steadying you before gathering your panties and bottoms. He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to yours before a smirk paints his lips, tucking your panties into his back pocket and helping you into your jeans. He gathers something from one of his desk drawers as you wrangle yourself back into your own jumper.

“So,” he begins, settling back into his chair and patting his lap, which you crawl into eagerly, as your sense of stability and balance have yet to return, pressing yourself close, "Close your eyes.”

You give him a look, though his face gives nothing away. You close your eyes, hearing what sounds like a hinge opening and the sharp snap of a case. His hands go around your throat next, but he doesn’t touch you. He’s quiet for a moment, but then settles his touch back to your waist.

“Alright, darling, open up.”

You immediately bring your hand to your throat, feeling the delicate chain that’s now laying there. You gently bring it up, looking over the charm in your fingers, before your breath catches in your throat.

He smiles at you like you’re the sun, and you cup his cheeks, leaning in close to press multiple kisses to his mouth, sniffling a little while he coos at your reaction.

“You’re my favorite Christmas present.”

Soap is, indeed, insufferable about it when you finally emerge from the back office. He gives you a shit-eating grin, musing out loud that he should hang mistletoe off John’s belt next.

#ink by bambi #secret santa #john price x reader #john price x you #john price au #john price imagine #john price smut #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare smut #modern warfare au

841 notes · View notes