Tumgik
#as long as I know it's not crazy inappropriate or something
starsabovethesun · 4 months
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Alright, I'm giving in. For the next few days I'll be taking drawing requests from you all. Go wild (nothing problematic and please nothing with face morphing or something too gorey. I'm a wimp and can't stand it (but a little bit of gore is fine tho))
Also, I take ship requests (again nothing problematic). Just in case you were wondering. And of course platonic duo/trio requests you have!! :D
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certaimromance · 1 month
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𝜗𝜚 Cupid Walks Right.
Spencer Reid x BAU!reader
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Summary: You've been hiding your attraction to your coworker for a long time, until a few pictures of him kissing a celebrity in a pool unleash emotions you can't control.
Words: 1,6k.
TW: mentions of crime and arms (normal warning in the series). spoilers for s1 e18 ("somebody's watching"). two idiots in love. lots of jealousy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: The reader is simply me every time I watch that episode but with a lot more drama to make it interesting.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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One bullet after another hit the paper meters away from you, with each shot more accurate than the previous one. You had lost count of how many cartridges you had already spent because your mind was full of thoughts that only the sound of the shots echoing in the shooting room managed to silence and give you back a little control of the situation.
Memories of one of the last cases still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't understand why. It hadn't even been something relevant enough to stick in your mind that much, it was just a crazy stalker obsessed with a celebrity and more of the same old same old in terms of creating a profile. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, and it had ended well, with a happy ending that included Spencer kissing the victim he was supposed to be protecting.
That was the crux of the issue, the root of your problem.
You saw some photos that captured the moment in vivid detail and wanted to run out and throw up in the nearest trash can. You held back to avoid answering embarrassing questions, blaming your bad feelings on the last thing you ate and insisting that you were just satisfying your curiosity. But as they say, curiosity always kills the cat.
Maybe it was because it was unprofessional and unnecessary, maybe you were in a bad mood and needed to relax, maybe you were upset that the guy with the germ problem had shared saliva with a stranger, maybe you didn't like Lila Archer because of her performances, or maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes and have him kiss you like that. And for heaven's sake, maybe you've had a few inappropriate dreams about it lately.
You were just about to fire again to get the thoughts out of your mind when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around, ready to defend yourself with the gun in your hand.
“Wait, wait, it's me. I'm sorry.” Spencer raised his arms in a sign of peace and took a few steps back. “Just me.”
“What are you doing here? You scared me.” You lowered the gun and placed it on the table, trying to sound less abrupt. “I thought everyone had gone home.”
He approached you again, checking the open shells and the pile of bullets on the ground. He was quite surprised to see how many times you had hit the target with perfect shots, and how you still seemed intent on continuing, even though it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't practice, because you didn't need it, it was something else, and you seemed quite angry about it.
“I spent the hour going through some papers and saw the light on in here. I thought I'd come and have a look.” He explained, trying to follow your gaze, which seemed to elude his. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, perfect.”
You started gathering your things and cleaning up the space you'd been using, planning to leave as soon as possible because of his presence. It had been weeks since you'd been alone with him because you'd managed to avoid seeing him as best you could. You'd even managed to convince Hotch that it was time for him to pair you up with someone else during the cases to experiment. You didn't even know why he'd listened to you, but it had been a great relief.
“You're leaving already?” Spencer asked, and you just nodded. “Can I take you home?”
Usually he drove you home, because your car was still at the mechanic and you refused to buy a new one. You always used the minutes you spent together to talk about something other than cases, they were moments of relaxation that you both appreciated. The big difference was that now you couldn't afford that luxury without feeling strange.
“Don't worry, I'll call a taxi.” You grabbed your jacket from a nearby locker. “I'm fine.” You added, with the intention of heading for the door until he stopped you by the wrist.
“Is everything okay...between us?” He asked as you looked up to meet his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”
“I'm sorry, what?” You said, feigning confusion. You always knew it was only a matter of time before he figured something was off with you. After all, he worked in profiling.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked again, in a lower voice, sounding a little more vulnerable than he'd intended. That instantly made you feel bad, you didn't want to hurt him with your confusion.
“No.”
He let out a sigh at your automatic response. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he felt a wave of relief for a few seconds. But then he looked into your eyes for a moment and hesitated, biting his lower lip.
“So...why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding a little shy and with a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Or not looking at me at all.”
“I'm not doing anything.” You make excuses.
He got the chills when he heard your voice, which came across as cold and distant.
“You're giving me that look.”
You gave a little frown and folded your arms, as if to say you didn't agree.
“What look?"
“You look at me like I've done something wrong, like you're disappointed or angry...I think both. You barely look me in the eye, you walk away every time I want to talk to you, you don't sit near me on the jet or want to work with me anymore. And you've been like this for a week.” He paused for a second, remembering when your strange behavior started. “Ever since the L.A. case.”
The room was suddenly filled with silence and a palpable tension. You had been foolish to think Spencer wouldn't notice your remoteness, given his perceptive nature. But you didn't have a choice. You didn't want to appear jealous when you didn't even have feelings for him, you were just ovulating or something like that.
“Is it because...because of Lila? I heard Morgan say some things, and you haven't treated me the same since.” His wavering voice sounded more and more confident, as if he still had to convince himself of his point of view. “I want to know what you think, please.”
You could only curse Derek for exposing you like that. He was the only one who knew about your strange attraction to Reid because he had caught you looking at him several times and you had confessed it to him once in a bar after several drinks and a ridiculous game of cross questions. Since that night, the jokes and suggestions about making out with Spencer under a tree had begun.
But a beautiful actress did it before you, in her pool, with lots of pictures to prove it.
“I'm not one to tell you what to do, but I think your actions were unprofessional and most of all risky.” You spoke after a few seconds, clearing your throat and trying to contain the burning you felt. “It could have ended badly.”
Come on, you would have done the same thing. You often thought about what it would be like to kiss him in the middle of an investigation, especially when he kept giving important details. So you were a little hypocritical.
“I'm only saying that because I care about you.” You added, noticing how confused he looked.
“I know, I care about you too.” He replied calmly, taking a step toward you to touch your arm. “This has been bothering you?”
You froze at his warm touch and the implications you thought he was making about you, nodding as if hypnotized. Had he realized that you had been jealous all along? That you wanted to go back so he could kiss you and not her? That you wanted him to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you deeply until you were breathless?
“I think I understand, but don't worry about me. I won't do anything dangerous anymore.”
Oh, he hadn't noticed.
Spencer really thought that you were just concerned about his safety because he was your friend and your partner on cases, that you were just frustrated that you weren't there to back him up in case things went wrong. It didn't even occur to him that it was something much deeper and more heated than that.
“So, all good?” He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat a little faster.
“Sure.” You lied, with a strange lump in your throat at the guarded words. “I just didn't know you liked blondes.” You added in a fake teasing tone.
Despite your clearly suspicious tone, Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I like your hair color.”
A strange bubbling sensation reached your stomach and made you smile.
“Mine?” You asked, lowering your gaze to the floor.
“Yes, it's like it's perfect for you.” He carefully brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, causing the feeling in your stomach to identify itself as butterflies fluttering nonstop.
“You're telling me because I have a gun?” You tried to change the subject with a nervous laugh. “I'm not a celebrity, after all.”
“You don't have to be one to be as pretty as you are. But you could be if you wanted to, and...” He started to talk about statistics and a bunch of data you didn't even know, but strangely enough you didn't listen to him this time because you were stuck on the first sentence.
Spencer really thought you were pretty.
It was only then that you realized something had changed. The only successful shot had been Cupid's arrow to your heart.
Because, damn it, you were totally in love with that man.
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ro-is-struggling · 1 year
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Secret Encounters || Geralt of Rivia x Reader
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Requested by anon
Summary: They know it's wrong, but they can't deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)
English is not my first language
Word count: 3900
Notes: I promise I'll stop writing tragic princess x witcher stories after this one. Also, sorry for the shitty summary but it's only smut so it was kinda hard to come up with something lol
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Geralt had never been fond of royalty, but the moment his eyes fell on hers he knew she was different. He didn't really understand why, but he felt some type of way whenever she was near. Her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet scent that lingered on his clothes and skin and accompanied him wherever he went. He could not escape her even when he wandered alone through the forest in search of the beast he had been hired to kill... not even when he was lying in his bed at night, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he tried to rest. Her scent enveloped him at all times, awakening something deep inside him. It drove him crazy, crazy enough to act on his desires. 
He knew it was wrong, it was inappropriate to take advantage of the king's hospitality like that. And she knew it was wrong too, she was a princess soon to be married, a woman of high value who had no business with a witcher like Geralt. And yet, neither seemed to be able to stay away from the other. It was as if there was some kind of energy force pulling them together, the very will of destiny imposing itself over their own. When Geralt showed up at her chambers she knew she should have turned him away. No matter how much she had been longing for him to take her in his arms and make her his, the right thing to do was to reject him and move on with her life. In fact, she had opened the door with the intention of doing exactly that, but when her eyes met the imposing figure of the witcher, towering over her as his amber eyes admired her face, she could not resist the temptation. She gave in to her desires, crashing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as she slowly pulled him into her room.
The feel of his touch lingered on her body for days, her skin permanently marked by the roughness of his caresses and the warm wetness of his mouth. The sound of his grunts of pleasure as he buried himself in her echoed in her mind at all times. He was all she could think about. She knew it was wrong, but she needed to feel his hands on her body again, exploring every inch of her skin as he showed her pleasure like no other man could.
Despite their desperation, they were able to keep their hands off each other for a while. Though all their self-control disappeared by the time of Geralt's last day in the castle. After slaying the beast —and collecting his reward— the witcher was ready to leave when the king made him an offer he couldn't resist. There would be a feast in celebration of the fall of the creature that had terrorized the town and Geralt, as their savior, was the guest of honor. He would normally have declined the offer, although the promise of free food and alcohol sounded enticing, he hated the idea of being stuck with a bunch of drunken noblemen. However, this time it gave him the perfect excuse to stay there a while longer and say goodbye to the princess the right way —the way he knew they had both been fantasizing about since their last encounter.
The party quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse, defiant yellow eyes meeting hers in the crowd, admiring her lips as she laughed and the way her body moved as she danced. She was doing it on purpose, accepting the proposals of all the knights who bowed in front of her to provoke him. She wanted to spark a reaction in him, see how far she could push him, how far she could push the boundaries of their secret relationship. The thought of being caught filled her body with adrenaline, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that he could almost hear it over the noise of the party.
She waited for the right moment and took advantage of the first distraction to escape to her bedroom. Her eyes met Geralt's before disappearing behind the side door of the great hall, her desire-laden expression a silent plea for him to follow her. She sat in front of the large mirror in her room waiting for him, removing the jewelry from her hair and combing her hair without any haste. And just as she expected, only a few minutes after her arrival, she felt the sound of the door's wood creaking as it opened. She saw Geralt lock the door behind him in the reflection of the mirror and she had to hold back the smile that wanted to form on her lips —a failed attempt to save some of her decency and not look so desperate.
"You're not supposed to be here." She said as if his presence didn't make her heart race. "It's wrong."
"That's not what you said the other night." Geralt's deep voice was music to her ears, his slightly mocking tone awakening that tingle under her skin. He walked up to her, holding her gaze in the mirror as if challenging her. He stood tall at her back, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but not close enough to feel the brush of his hands on her skin. 
"The other night was a mistake." She affirmed, setting the comb aside. It was true, their furtive encounter, though pleasurable, had been a mistake. But they both knew well that neither really cared. The desire they felt, the tension in the air, it was all too much, it clouded their thinking leaving them at the mercy of their most primitive feelings. 
Geralt reached out his hands to her, brushing her hair aside so he could caress her skin. He noticed how she stifled a sigh through the reflection of the mirror, his warm touch awakening that flame within her. His fingers moved gently across her shoulders, up her neck until they reached her cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, losing herself in the moment. It felt just as she remembered it, warm and hard, yet strangely soft and comforting at the same time. It was as if his hands had never left her skin, as if his caresses were permanently carved into her body.
"Do you wish for me to leave?" he said, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He knew the answer to her question, he could read it on her face, smell it in the air, feel it in the vein in her neck that throbbed rapidly beneath his fingers. But still, he needed to be sure he was right, hear from her lips the plea for his caresses. He needed to know that she was as desperate as he was.
She didn't give him a verbal response, just rose from her seat and pressed her lips to his. Geralt's hands closed around her waist, pulling her body against his as he quickly took control of the kiss. She didn't bother fighting for dominance, acknowledging her subordination to him almost immediately. She didn't need to win, she just needed to feel his hands on her skin again, gripping and caressing every inch of her body in a rush of pleasure until the early morning sun forced them apart.
There was nothing tender and soft about the way Geralt's lips attacked hers, only lust and desperation, but she loved every part of it. She loved the way his tongue invaded her mouth and how his teeth nibbled at her lips before moving his wet kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at the skin without fear of leaving marks. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her as she was completely at his mercy, surrendered to the pleasure only he could give her. She didn't care if she had to spend the next week finding creative ways to hide the evidence of their furtive encounter, she just needed to feel him. She wanted him to mark her, to declare ownership over her body. She knew she belonged to him, always would, even if she never saw him again after tonight.
Clothes soon became a problem, a barrier that kept them apart, so desperate hands worked carelessly to fix it. Her dress was the first to go, the expensive fabric pooling around her feet leaving her naked body completely exposed to Geralt's hungry gaze. She should have been embarrassed, but nothing but lust and anticipation pumped through her veins. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever seen, as if she were a goddess he had the privilege of pleasing. Never before had anyone looked at her in that way, so intense, so filled with adoration. She loved it, it made her feel special, powerful. 
Geralt didn't waste a second, calloused fingers caressing every inch of exposed skin. It awakened a fire inside her, a tingling that spread throughout her body, concentrating on her core. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, sinking his canines into her as his hands moved down to her breasts, earning a couple of sighs from the princess as he showed attention to her nipples erect with anticipation. He smiled against her neck, proud of himself as the scent of her arousal lingered in the air. It was an intoxicating scent, the sweet forbidden fruit begging him to take it.
When his fingers slipped between her wet folds, she let out a moan of pleasure as her grip on the witcher's shoulders tightened. It was as beautiful as he remembered, a harmonious melody traveling through him and going straight to his cock. It was the sound of temptation, of lust, urging him to carry on, to forget all rules of morality and decorum and take what was his.
“P-please, Geralt.” She pleaded against his lips. Her breathing was rapid and she looked up at him through half-closed eyelids. He slipped two of his fingers inside her with ease, pushing them as deep as he could and moving them until he made her moan. She looked so beautiful like this, her eyes closed in pleasure and her parted lips releasing those beautiful desperate sighs, completely at his mercy.It was an image that would stay in Geralt's mind for quite some time. 
"I know, I know," he soothed her, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek. "I have to get you ready for me."
"I-I need to feel you, p-please." She whimpered in a pathetic, desperate attempt to get him to do what she wanted. She needed to feel all of him, his hot skin pressed against hers, his fingernails sinking into the skin of her hips as he buried his cock deep inside her, his ragged breaths in the hollow of her neck. She needed him as much as she needed the air she breathed and could wait no longer.
Thankfully he took pity on her, removing his hands from her body to unbutton his pants. She suppressed the whimper that wanted to escape her throat as she felt empty without his fingers inside her, knowing the sensation would not last for long. Geralt instructed her to turn over and her body obeyed him before she could process his words or wonder what he was up to. Her body no longer belonged to her, it belonged to him and always would.
He held her against his chest for a moment, one hand roaming her body while the other held her head steady facing forward. She could feel his hard member pressed against her lower back as his heat enveloped her completely. Their gazes met in the mirror once more and she saw the darkness of desire staining the beautiful yellow orbs. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent before lowering his lips to her ear.
"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as I fuck you, princess." Geralt whispered in her ear, his voice firm and slightly deeper than normal. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, studying her reaction in the reflection. "I want you to see how beautiful you look with your face scrunched up in pleasure so you'll remember it after I'm gone and your future husband can't make you feel this good."
He gave her no warning before pushing his hard cock into her tight wet hole, and he wasn't gentle either. A quick thrust of his hips and he was balls deep inside her as her velvety walls struggled to take him. Geralt was big, it was almost hard for him to fully fit inside her despite how aroused she was. But it wasn't painful, not in a bad way at least. She loved the way his cock stretched her, almost impaling her on it when it was all the way in. The burning only added to her pleasure, the knot in her belly tightening with the promise of her orgasm.
Geralt set a fast, torturous pace, earning a string of incoherent moans each time he touched that special place deep inside her. She could feel him twitching inside her as her walls closed around him, desperate to hold him in place. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time, a mixture of feelings born of her need for relief. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with her cries of pleasure and Geralt's grunts filled the room. It was loud and she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered that someone passing through the corridor could hear them, but she didn't care. She felt too good to worry about anything else.
The pleasure she felt was so intense that she had trouble keeping her eyes open, her heavy eyelids closing involuntarily against the force of Geralt's thrusts. But each time she did, he tightened his grip on her jaw, growling in her ear for her to open them. The image reflected in the mirrored surface was too much for her to take. Her small figure wrapped in the strong arms of her lover towering over her and making her feel even smaller and more insignificant. The bulge forming in her lower belly with each thrust showed just how deep inside her Geralt was. His teeth on her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin without taking his intense gaze away from her eyes in the mirror. And finally, her face, with parted lips letting out a string of melodious moans, and glassy eyes filled with tears that threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. The expression of pure pleasure on her face was one she had never seen on her before  —and she feared that after tonight she would never see it again.
It was all too much for her, and the possessive way Geralt was acting didn't help her in the slightest. He was determined to leave a mark on her, both physically and mentally. He wanted her to see traces of him on her own skin after he was gone, but he also wanted to make sure she remembered him. Make sure she remembered the intensity of the moment and the way he had made her feel. He wanted her to think of him every time her future husband left her unsatisfied, touching herself to relieve the pressure inside her as images of him in this very moment flashed through her mind. 
He made sure to let her know his intentions between grunts of pleasure, feeling her walls close around his member with every word that left his lips. She liked it as much as he did and that only egged him on.
"Geralt, please," she begged, not quite sure of what it was she was asking of him. Please stop because the pleasure traveling through my veins is too much to bear? Please keep going and don't stop until I'm passed out from exhaustion and you've ruined me for the rest of the men? She wasn't sure, both options were equally valid.
"I know... just let go," he encouraged her, his warm breath crashing against the skin of her ear as he spoke. "Just let go for me, princess."
Her body took his words as a command and it wasn't long before the knot in her belly snapped, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her insides. Her orgasm hit her like a pile of bricks, leaving her completely stupid. Geralt's name escaped her lips like a prayer as she lost herself in pleasure. All thought left her mind, she could only feel as her lover's thrusts slowed, her body trembling in his arms from overstimulation.
She only had a couple of seconds to recover, whining as she felt empty when Geralt pulled away from her momentarily. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, so he took her in his arms and laid her down on the bed carefully. He settled into the space between her legs, taking a moment to admire her and caress her body before continuing. His hands ran over her warm, sweat-covered skin in an almost gentle way, an act that contrasted with the roughness of his behavior so far but was nonetheless welcomed by her.
The tenderness didn't last long, though, because once he slid his cock inside her once more, he returned to the animalistic grunts and punishing rhythm of his thrusts. This time it was more desperate and erratic, letting her know that he was close to his own orgasm. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to paint her velvety walls with his seed. The very idea was enough to have her on the edge again. 
"You feel me, princess?" He said, taking one of her hands and bringing it down to her lower belly. He pressed it against her skin, trapping it between his palm and the bulge forming there from his cock. It added a new sensation and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her throat. "Feel how deep inside of you I am?
"Fuck," she cursed, eyes rolling back as her free hand clutched at Geralt's wrist to make sure he didn't move it off her belly. The pressure felt too good, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her with a force that left her breathless.
"I'm the only one who gets is deep, f-fuck, the only one who makes you feel this way." He wasn't asking, it was a clear statement, but still she nodded, letting out repeated affirmations between high-pitched moans.
"I belong to you... My body is forever yours, no one will ever make me feel this good." The animalistic growl he let out at those words almost pushed her over the edge, leaving her on the verge of her second orgasm. She knew he was close too, she could feel it in his erratic thrusts and the way his cock twitched inside her. She needed to feel him come undone for her, to paint her walls white as he emptied his seed inside her. She needed him to mark her, to claim her as his own. They both knew a relationship between them was impossible, but she would always be his in secret. Her body would always miss him.
"Please, I need to feel you." She managed to say between moans and ragged breaths. "I need you to fill me up, please." She sounded pathetic at this point, but she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling Geralt's seed trickling down her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. 
The witcher groaned, a cocky smile playing on his lips. One of his hands flew to the headboard of the bed, the wood creaking under his strong grip as he adjusted his position. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper —if that was even possible—, impaling her on his cock as she cried out in pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, leaving traces of red marks on his skin.
"You're desperate for it, aren't you?" he teased her arrogantly. "Don't worry, princess, I'm gonna shoot my seed so deep inside of you that you'll carry it for days. Is that what you want? You want me to mark you as mine? You want to feel me between your legs while you swear loyalty to your husband?"
"Yes! Fuck, Geralt, please... mark me, claim me as yours, please." 
The witcher did not expect to find it so erotic to hear her admit her deepest desires, but he did. It awakened something inside him, a primal desire that took over his body. He became an animal, a fierce, possessive wolf that was desperate for some relief. After all, that was exactly what their relationship was, pure animal instinct, pure lust and desperation. An intense attraction they couldn't resist even when they knew how wrong it was.
He came with a loud grunt, emptying his load inside her warm, tight walls. She felt every drop of it, her cunt filled to the brim with his desire for her. The intensity of his orgasm triggered hers, her body trembling under Geralt's weight, her walls tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he had. His name fell from her lips as pleasure consumed her, a prayer begging him to stay with her. He knew it was impossible, but in that moment - mind clouded with pleasure as he felt her crumbling beneath him - he really considered it. He wanted to feel her body against his again, hear the sound of her voice as she moaned his name outside of his memories. He needed her.
But that was just a fantasy, the desire for the impossible. She was a princess who was soon to be married and he was a witcher who had nothing to do with the court and royal affairs. She was not his —even if her body was— and he was not hers. And that was the hard truth. So when he came to his senses he rose from his place on the bed, where he rested with her beside him. The princess watched him as he dressed, trying to ignore the strange feeling of emptiness that came over her at the thought that once he crossed the threshold of the door she would never see him again.
"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. Geralt admired her naked figure on the bed as he contemplated his answer, liking the way the dim candlelight illuminated her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. As wrong as it was, he would really like to see her again, but the truth was he didn't know if it would happen. The future was uncertain, especially in his line of work, so to give her a straight answer would be to lie to her.
"Only time will tell."
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Thinking about Jealous Baby daddy! Miguel O'Hara who seems grumpier during the next custody swap the following week. A permanent scowl etched on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest while leaning against his car. Only answer in a grumble when you asked what’s wrong, wanting to see if you’d mentioned anything about the date you went on, acting as if he didn’t know about it. You didn’t.
Jealous baby daddy!Miguel starts to probe any info about your new suiter from Gabriella whenever he can during his weeks with her, wanting to see if it was only a fling or if it had any potential to turn into something serious. Huffing when his daughter starts to tease him about it when she notices he starts to be asking about it too often, denying her claims of him “having a crush” on mommy again, him trying to defend himself to the 10 year old by saying he only wanted to make sure that the guy wasn’t a jerk.
It didn’t matter if he was the nicest man on earth though, Miguel wasn’t gonna like him either way.
Jealous baby daddy!Miguel who finally cracked and “casually” mentioned to you that Gabi has been making comments about you seeing someone as of recently during one of her games and “accidentally” forgot to mention that he’s been basically interrogating your girl about him. Purposely leaning in a bit closer as he whispered into your ear while you both sat on the metal bleachers, fighting off an oncoming smirk from his lips when he noticed your shoulders tensing up and your cheeks growing warmer even if your eyes stayed on the field.
Jealous baby daddy!Miguel who purposely starts to get more touchy. Not in an inappropriate way, but in a smaller strategic way. Letting his fingertips linger a second too long against yours when he hands you Gabriella’s school bag, his thighs brushing against yours the whole time during a soccer game. Small things that he can dismiss if you try to confront him by saying you’re being silly, but he knows that it driving you crazy.
Jealous baby daddy!Miguel who suddenly starts sending you photos of you both in college when you were both dating before you had Gabi, saying he “stumbled across it” while cleaning.
“Okay, go get ready for bed, amor.” (Sweetie.)
“Si mami!” (Yes mom!)”
As the pitter patter of Gabriella’s blue crocs make their way over to the bathroom, you got up and off the couch to tidy up the mess of Barbies off from your living room carpet floor. While putting away the skipper doll back in the toy bin, you heard your phone vibrate on the couch, quickly placing it in the bin before standing up straight and dusting your hands off to go see who texted you, expecting it to be the guy you're talking to.
To your surprise though, Miguel’s name was popping up instead, with a raised brow you go to open the message. Your face of mild confusion turns into one of a small look of nostalgia.
“Look what I found while cleaning up my computer storage.” Was the message that accompanied the photo, you and Miguel, around 19 you’d like to say, in a candid shot one of your friends took of you both, you playfully smuggling some ice cream on the side of his cheek while you both laugh.
“Mom! I’m ready!” Your daughter’s sudden call quickly took you out of your state of reminiscing, snapping you back to present time. Telling her you’d be right up as you close your phone and placed it back on the coach, but not before liking the message.
Part 1<
Part 3<
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Word count: 600
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onlyseokmins · 1 year
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size matters • l.c.
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Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬
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"I'm worried my dick's too big."
Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.
He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.
And no one wants that.
"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."
Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 
He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.
"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"
"You're drunk."
"So are you." 
Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.
"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."
You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."
"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."
"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."
Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 
"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 
You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 
He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."
"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."
"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."
"You know I'm not!"
"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."
Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"
"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."
Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.
Or maybe that's just the alcohol.
Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 
"Are you flaccid right now?"
"What's it to you?"
"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."
He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."
"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 
"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.
"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"
Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 
"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"
"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."
"Then you should try harder."
He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 
Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 
Like always.
Except it's not.
All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 
You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.
"Am I boring you, baby?"
"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"
He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"
"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."
"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."
"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."
"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"
Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."
"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"
The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.
You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"
"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 
That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.
"Ah, well, so do I!" 
Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.
Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.
Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 
While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 
"I wanna go home."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just feel like leaving."
He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."
"Ooh… are you jealous?"
"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."
"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."
His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.
Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 
Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.
"You want to go to my place?"
"Yeah."
He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"
"Sure. Maybe condoms too."
"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"
Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 
There's no one there, of course.
"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."
"You do? Good."
"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"
Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"
"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"
"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."
His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"
"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"
One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."
"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."
He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"
"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"
"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 
Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 
"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."
Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 
But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 
He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.
"You've been thinking about me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Your pussy has too?"
"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."
"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"
And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.
Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.
He needs to get home fast. Now.
The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.
"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."
The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 
"No. You have to wait."
"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."
"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"
You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 
He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.
"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."
His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 
"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.
"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."
"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."
Neither one of you care. 
In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 
Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 
"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."
Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 
Oh, you cannot wait.
He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!
Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.
Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 
"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 
Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.
"C'mon bestie, please."
"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."
"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"
Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 
"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"
His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 
"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.
And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.
The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 
Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.
"You can't make me cum."
"What? Why? Need to stretch — "
"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"
"God, yes."
You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."
Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.
It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.
He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.
Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.
There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 
It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.
And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 
The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 
Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.
You're on the brink of climaxing.
And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.
Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.
He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 
"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.
"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."
"Can't believe you didn't rip them."
"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.
"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"
"Huh?"
It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."
With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.
"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."
"You love it."
"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."
You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.
"Someone's full of surprises."
"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."
Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "
"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 
You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.
"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.
His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.
It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.
"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.
You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.
It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 
Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.
He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.
It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.
"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."
"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"
"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"
You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 
"Mhm… yeah."
"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"
"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"
"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"
"Mhmph! More… more!"
A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 
Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.
He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.
Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.
"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"
Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.
"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."
"All… all for you!"
Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"
Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.
That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 
His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.
"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."
You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."
"That's not how it works."
Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 
You're honestly a little offended. 
He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 
Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 
You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 
"Good thing I'm flexible." 
"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 
"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 
You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 
"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."
What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 
To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 
Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 
But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.
Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 
It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"
And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.
White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 
Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.
"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."
He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.
Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 
Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.
It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.
"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.
He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 
Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.
There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."
"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."
"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"
"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."
"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."
"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."
It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.
"So, you're mine now too?"
"If that's okay with you."
And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.
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onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©
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pupyuj · 9 months
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highly dubcon! coming over to your boyfriend’s house and while he’s away buying some groceries, his older sister, g!p wonyoung, takes advantage of the situation, pulls you into her room with no warning and fucks your virgin pussy out better than her brother ever will. a lot of resisting, tears, and pleads of “no” “unnie stop” “this is wrong” “i-i can’t be doing this” but every thrust just hits your spot too good that you’re forced to submit to wonyoung’s will :((
you’ve actually noticed her lingering inappropriate touches on you before but you shrugged them off as only friendly gestures from your boyfriend’s older sister :((
P.S. wony has a MAJOR unnie kink :(
anon i love you for this UGHHHH 😩😩😩 this kinda went on and on but you guys like that, right? :3
[cw: dubcon, corruption.]
wony always looks forward to the days you’d come over and to spend some time being cute with her brother! mostly bcs you’d make sure to doll yourself up and it’d be an excuse for wony to jerk herself off in her room while thinking of you bouncing on her cock like you should be 🫣 hehe i like the idea of her being a huge perv too… hugging you for a bit too long to feel your boobs pressed up against hers, backhugging you whenever you try to cook something for your bf in their kitchen under the guise of ‘teaching you’ just so she can subtly grind her cock on your ass 🫢🫢 also loves your perfume so she’s constantly very close to you and one time wony even managed to steal a hoodie of yours that you left in her brother’s room and jerk herself off as she inhaled your scent…
wony feels very little guilt about what she does and actually wishes she was the one you were dating instead… so much so that she got so jealous that she jumped to the opportunity to fuck you while her brother was gone 🫣🫣 her pulling you into her room bcs she wanted you to take a look at her closet and gawk at her designer clothes just to hug you from behind and start touching everywhere… most specifically your boobs 😳
“u-unnie, what are you…?” you were so confused 😔 in your head, you knew that you probably shouldn’t be letting your bf’s older sister touch you like this but you were also scared that you’d make your sweet wonyoung-unnie sad :((
oh, and did i mention that she’s crazy and delusional enough to say, “you wore this outfit for me, didn’t you, baby? wanted to look pretty for unnie to slut you out today?” 🫢
“what are you s-saying? mmhn.. stop that…” your attempts to push wonyoung’s hands away were futile, especially when she snuck her hand in between your thighs and felt up your soaked panties with her fingers… wony knew you always liked her 🥺🥺 (crazy, i said!!)
kisses you hungrily after forcefully turning you around 😵‍💫 presses your back against her mirrors while you weakly fight against her hold but wony was surprisingly very strong :(( and of course you couldn’t resist moaning when she squeezes your asscheeks and shoves her tongue inside your mouth, prompting her to slide a thigh between your legs and press it up against your slick… “ride, baby. you know you want to.” she whispers against your lips 🤤 and when you refused to do what she says, she grabs your hips and makes you grind on her thigh herself :(( “like this. do it, slut.” wony says in a harsh tone which of course makes you fold bcs you don’t ever want to make her mad :((
it was so so so wrong but it felt so good 💔 grinding your clit on wony’s thigh and whimpering at the pleasure of it all :(( having to hold onto wony’s shoulders the more you increase your pace, and the things she told you weren’t helping either :(( so many “good girl”s and “good job”s 😣😣 all of wony’s praises pleased your ears as much as her touches pleased your arousal… and of course you want so much more it all 😵‍💫
letting wony unbutton your cardigan and lift your top up so she could see your lacy white bra and say, “oh? i bet you two were finally going to fuck later, hm? is that why he was in such a rush to buy ‘some things’ at the store? cute,” it was so convenient that your bra could be undone at the front! 🤭 wony easily popped it open, licking her lips at the sight of your bare breasts… “i’m not gonna let him get a drop in you.” she whispers before leaving wet kisses down your neck slowly.. she doesn’t leave any marks—she wasn’t stupid.
having to clamp your mouth shut when wony’s warm mouth wraps around your nipple :(( and ofc she pulls down your panties at the same time to get a feel of your wet pussy… her smirking while she swirled her tongue around your nipple and sucked on it with a satisfied moan… your muffled whimpers only made her harder… in fact, her boxers were wet—she couldn’t wait to fuck your untouched pussy 🫣
wony insisting that you fuck while sitting down on the floor with her back facing the mirror so you could watch yourself get fucked under her 😵‍💫 your wonyoung-unnie’s big cock hurting you the deeper she pushes it in but it also?? feels so good??? her bringing you to the point of tears, holding onto her so tightly that your nails were digging through the fabric of her sweater but your pained cries were so sweet to her ears :(( “unnie, i-i-it hurts so much…!” you’d say but wony would only hum, groaning at the feeling of your tight pussy clenching around her length 🤤🤤
wony wouldn’t even let you get used to her size before she just starts thrusting :(( even a moderate pace was too much for you bcs you’ve never even put your own fingers inside your pussy :(( “a-ah..! ahh, unnie..! unnie!” every single moan of yours would only cloud wony’s head with thoughts of completely ruining you :(( “fffuck, fuckfuck…! y-you feel even better t-than i imagined… shit..” she would grip your hips with her hands and have you move in rhythm with her 😣 no matter how much you asked her to stop or slow down, wony would only fuck you even harder… and eventually, you’d give up trying to resist and just submit to her completely..
moaning and sobbing right up against wony’s ears,, “unnie.. f-f-feels good…” and ofc you’d forget that what you were doing was wrong.. just as wony intended! 🤭 it’s just so pleasing to hear her call you her good girl :(( and to say that you were doing so well taking her cock :(( how could you not obey to do whatever to make your wonyoung-unnie praise you?? 😔 your moans being reduced to tiny little gasps when you feel an unfamiliar knot form deep in your stomach… “ow.. o-ow, unnie… unnie, wait..!” you’d say, shaking your head and sobbing pathetically when wony hits one of your good spots again :((
“cumming yet, baby..? that’s what i thought… g-go on, cum for unnie…” wony giggling as you wrapped your legs around her waist, scratching at her back while you cried and cried as you came all over her cock :(( and you know what? she doesn’t even stop there! she has to cum too! so she lays you down on the floor and just uses you pussy as she pleases :(( pinning your hands down while she pounded into you mercilessly, kissing you from time to time to silence your pleads and crying… saying, “we’re not finished until i fill you up.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫
and that’s what she does! wony thrusts and thrusts until she plunges her cock deep inside your walls and cums 😋 her cum spilling out of your pussy and making a mess of the two of you 😵‍💫 “mhm.. still wanna fuck my brother?” wony asks as she stares at your poor, dazed state 💔💔 she’d scare you into not telling a single soul and also to not breaking up with her brother :(( making you run back to his room with your face flushed and head still a bit spinny 😣😣 wony would steal your bra just so you have a reason to come back to her in the future :3
her sick and twisted self surely enjoyed eavesdropping from outside her brother’s bedroom door a few moments later, hearing you apologize to him and telling him that you ‘aren’t ready’ only inflated her massive ego… and of course she’d act all clueless and innocent when the two of you exit his room so he could take you home… “everything okay?” she’d ask with the fakest concern ever.
“y-yeah… i was just about to go home, unnie.” you’d say quietly. your boyfriend didn’t notice how you clenched your thighs under wonyoung’s gaze, or how you couldn’t seem to meet the older girl’s eyes bcs yours were glued to her bulge… why were you… yearning for that feeling inside you?? you were just as sick as wonyoung herself! 😵‍💫
yes, wonyoung would definitely hit you up a few hours later that night with a mirror pic of her with her hand wrapped around her cock. you wouldn’t reply out of all the shame and guilt you felt about what you two did but yes, you’d think about her dick all night :((
and yes, you’d definitely find yourself at your bf’s house the next few days without a warning not for your boyfriend (who just so happened to be out of the house, not knowing that you even came), but for his pretty older sister who doesn’t hesitate to grab you and make you scream her name all afternoon 🫢
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rayveneyed · 3 months
Text
cw; suggestive / softcore smut, alcohol consumption (possibly dubcon), inappropriate workplace relationships, cisfem!reader
nanami kento is too old for fucking.
he tells you this at 1 am — in not quite as many words — a few too many somaeks in, lethargic and slow from the length of the workday. there’s enough alcohol in his system to have him silk-loose and soft, cursing more freely and allowing vulgarity (or what he considers vulgarity) to grace his ever-so-polite tongue.
you’ve never heard him like this before; you’ve never heard your straight laced coworker utter anything more than a family-friendly expletive (drat being a recurring character — old-fashioned, but endearing). but his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar and his hair is mussed, and the blush of intoxication is rising to his sharp cheekbones — and yes, he curses. it almost sounds elegant when he does it. rolling over his tongue in his poorly-lit living room, where he’d only bothered to turn one lamp on; gathering with his voice like balls of cotton wool deep in his chest.
you yourself have had one too many drinks — that is why you find warmth pooling in your stomach at the sound of his confession, at the sight of his face illuminated in honey-soft light. after all, you’d never let the barrier of strained, charged professionalism drop otherwise. you’d never accept kento’s sudden invite for a nightcap after a night already filled with drinking, surrounded by tipsy coworkers at a local izakaya; you’d never let him help you slip your heels off, deft fingers unbuckling the strap from your ankle and lingering just long enough for you to notice. you’d surely never sit so close to him on his fancy 1.5 million yen couch — and you’d never, ever entertain the comment he’d made, one that he never intended for you to hear in the first place.
“what was that?” you say, coy, as if the comment hadn’t twisted something horrid in your gut. (as if you weren’t imagining him flushed from top to bottom, panting against your neck. it’s the alcohol, you’re sure of it.) “you’re too old for all that crazy stuff? like what?”
his adam’s apple bobs. he’s sitting slumped low next to you, his head hanging backwards against the back of the couch and his gaze somewhere on the high ceilings above your head, like he can’t face you. pretty. handsome. “sorry. i was just thinking out loud.”
“i know.” you take a sip of your own somaek. “but we’re both adults here, right? i mean, i agree. i’m not as flexible as i was at 20.”
his laugh is more of a surprised huff — like he’s just as surprised as you are that your conversation has steered into such uncharted territory. perhaps he’s surprised that he’s even responding to it — but he does, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. his thigh presses against yours through those infernal khaki slacks. “mm. me neither.”
you shoot him a cheeky grin. “you were getting folded like a pretzel, i presume?”
another laugh, tinged with incredulity this time. “mm. something like that.”
you both sit in silence for a moment. his apartment really is lovely — the kind of apartment you only get when you’re as diligent as nanami, putting aside money for years and steadily working his way up the hierarchal corporate ladder. high ceilings and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows opposite his couch; a kitchen with a granite island; fancy furniture straight from an interior designer’s wet dream. it’s all neutral greys and browns, cozy and elegant and refined, and suddenly you wonder what his bedroom looks like. you take another sip of your drink.
“getting older’s not all that bad,” you say, almost offhandedly, speaking more to the tokyo skyline than your drinking companion. (you bet he has a double-king with fancy 500-count cotton bedsheets. probably some trinkets. man stuff like shavers and cuff links and aftershave.) “i like it slow anyways.”
a strange, choked sound leaves your drinking partner, and your eyes shoot over to him. you’re suddenly mortified at your careless blabbering — but drunk enough for your embarrassment to be eclipsed by a prideful ignorance. “huh? nanami-san, are you okay?”
he stares up at the ceiling once more. his throat bobs again. a slight blush has dusted the tops of his ears — but before you can linger in it, his eyes suddenly flicker to meet yours. you’re almost taken aback by it — the intensity with which his brown eyes suddenly bore into you, the sullenness and modesty from before pushed aside for something newer. something rawer. “…forgive me for my forwardness—”
“you’re forgiven.”
“—but, i…”
you swallow. he still hasn’t looked away. your breathing has stilted, stagnant and pressing, in your lungs. you fight the urge to press against the point where his thigh meets your own, already on the verge of squirming under his heady stare. “but…?”
straight-laced nanami kento breathes deeply, his chest moving with the force of it, and as his breath shudders out of him, he bites out: “i really want you, right now.”
your heartbeat rushes in your ears.
“but we’re coworkers,” kento continues, like he’s been sitting on it for a while — like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. his hand — the one not clutching his glass, the one laying on top of his thigh, flexes. “it’s unprofessional — completely inappropriate. i should be written up for simply confessing this to you.”
“but we—” you swallow around a dry throat — all moisture in your body seemingly gathering between your legs, hot and thrumming and nowhere to go— “we’re not working right now.”
a beat of silence.
kento finally looks away from you, and you can breathe again. you grapple with the sudden influx of air in your lungs, the anxiety of misstepping broiling in the pit of your stomach. while you internally struggle with yourself, nanami sets his somaek on the coffee table, before slumping back again.
“i suppose we’re not.”
unsurprisingly, kento does not make the first move. he just sits there, one arm behind his head and the other laying limp at his side, his chin tilted towards the sky and his eyes shut as if to sleep. it’s not in a way that might be construed as arrogance — this isn’t your high school boyfriend sitting back and waiting for you to pull down his pants — it’s pure and utter indulgence. climb over him if you want. kiss him when you want. cross the imaginary line drawn in the sand when it suits you — regardless, he won’t ever touch unless you explicitly make it clear that you want him to. desire curdles in your stomach, almost painful, and it's all you can do to scrabble onto your knees beside him.
before your anxiety takes control of your faculties — before you allow your cowardice to seize your limbs — you swing a knee to the other side of his hips. you're straddling him, close enough that you're sure you're sharing the same air, and — fuck, he's much bigger than you'd anticipated. he doesn't have the wiry, lean stature of the average salaryman — somehow, between sleeping overnight in the office and drinking at izakayas almost nightly, kento's frame is sturdy and large, muscular. like he works out often. you don't know how he does it with the long hours he puts in, but your thighs almost ache with the stretch of his hips between them — and pressed right against you, right where you're sensitive and aching and perhaps a little too needy, is his clothed cock. the slacks do little to camouflage the shape or hardness of it — in fact, you swear you feel it twitch when you seat yourself against it.
kento's eyes flutter open. his cheekbones are slowly reddening, his glasses hooked low on his nose bridge. his arms twitch where they lay, like he was about to move to hold you and thought better of it. you wish he didn't think better of it. "hi."
you give a little smile, hopefully looking less like you're brimming with excitable energy than you actually are. his lips really are quite close to yours. if you just leaned forward... "hi."
they're not chapped, his lips, but not shining with lip balm. they're soft looking and slightly pink, naturally down-turned in a way that makes him seem grumpy most of the time. but they're quirked up in a little smile, now, and all you can think about is how they might feel against yours. your lip gloss has long since rubbed off, between drinking and eating and drinking again, but would the remnants of glitter smear against his lips? would he come away tasting cherries?
kento clears his throat.
"i have to be honest with you," he says. he adjusts his glasses smartly, the way he does at the office, the way that has all the your female coworkers swooning. "i'm… passed the age of doing things no strings attached — that is to say, if—”
heart suddenly swooping in your chest — delighted at being indulged, of having your affections returned — and brain whizzing along like a child who's had too much sugar, you connect your lips with little fanfare. you're perhaps too enthusiastic — prodding his mouth with your tongue as soon as he'll let you, leaning forward until your chests press together and you can almost feel his heart beating through his skin. his lips are soft, after all. soft but weathered, moving so pleasantly against yours — and then his hands squeeze at the plushness of your hips, his teeth take your bottom lip between them, and—
you're panting when you pull away. panting and flushed and hot all over, barely an inch between you for fear of distance. you’re hot where you’re connected, so filled with nervous, excitable energy you think you might wither; nanami’s grasp on you, steel-tight and warm, does little to help. it’s all you can do to give yourself a second to recuperate, chest heaving — and nanami seems just as bad off. the usually well-kept salaryman looks a mess underneath you, with his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, and his breathing uneven — even then, though, his eyes are far too intense for you to calm any.
“to be honest,” you say, "i’m — i’m a little too old for that, too, kento."
another small smile. the gap between you is filled once more. you both call in sick that morning.
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tmblrcolouredpaper · 4 months
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When TXT is making you feel comfortable: habits, routines and rituals that occur when they prioritize your comfort
5 short scenarios per member listed
wc (in total): 1943
no warnings
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When Yeonjun is making you comfortable...
... he has his apartment stocked with products that make you feel at home. He has your favorite snacks. He bought your favorite clothes as substitutes that he keeps in his closet for when you stay over. He has some copies of your favorite books and gets some magazines you enjoy. If you're a person who menstruates, he of course has all possible period products ready. If your hobby is painting, he has all utensils at his place. If you are currently into lifting weights and working out, he creates a little sport corner for you. 
'Top drawer on the right', he yells after you when you leave is room to go to the kitchen, because you feel like having a snack.
'Look at the bag in my closet', he instructs when you spilled on your favorite shirt, while he gets the detergent ready to wash your shirt right away.
... he is with you when you decide to face your fears. If he can and it makes sense, he is with you in person, but otherwise, he offers you to be on a call with him or text him. One or the other way,  he will be with you.
'Three, two, one and you go inside, okay? I'll stay on the call and you can return right to my voice if you want to, yeah? Now, my brave baby, three, two, and one'.
... he is his crazy self around you and is the happiest when you slowly allow yourself to let your guard down and become more unhinged yourself. 
'That doesn't sound like a chicken. My donkey impression totally beats yours. Try again'. 
... he directly protects you from others. Whether it's strangers or friends, encountering you with inappropriate intentions or ignorant jokes, he shields you. 
'Keep walking', he spits at a man who is eyeing you up and down when you are outside. Yeonjun pushes himself between you and the crowd immediately and takes your hand to pull you behind him, not letting go of you until he feels like it's rather safe again. 
... he lets you sleep. Regardless if you fall asleep on his bed, taking up all the space or of you fall asleep directly on him, he lets you. The only time he moves you is when your position looks rather uncomfortable and possibly damaging if you remain lying  like that for too long. 
'Oh? Am I that comfy?', he whispers as he looks down on your sleeping figure on his chest, smiling to himself.
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When Soobin is making you comfortable...
... he subtly bends his knees or leans against an accessible surface when he's talking to you, to not tower over you as much.
'Oh, why I'm leaning against the wall like this? I'm just a bit tired, that's all'.
... he carries all your bags at a shopping trip and cheers you on in every outfit you are trying out.
'This looks beautiful on you. Wait? Feels a bit too tight? Give me a second. I'll bring it in a different size', he says and rushes into the isles with bags already dangling from his shoulders. He always has capacity to carry just one more thing if it's for you.
... he never, NEVER, distances himself first when you hug. He always waits for you to be ready to let go, because he doesn't even want to give you one nuanced opportunity to doubt him wanting to be with you.
'I'm not letting go before you're ready', he whispers when you were already in his embrace for ten minutes, standing in the middle of the room. It doesn't matter if you are happy, sad, scared, worried. He is constantly ready to be your safe space. 
... he gives you the biggest side-eye. As much as he admires you, he doesn't put you on a pedestal. When your jokes aren't funny or you say something particularly dumb, he will silently let you know and expects to be treated the same. 
'What do you mean unicorns weren't real at least for one period of time on this earth? I literally saw a documentary about it!', he argues and has to contain himself to not burst into a laughter, seeing you shaking your head in disbelief with a big frown on your face. Those situations are so funny and carefree to him. 
... he has your back regarding everything. Regardless of how unrealistic or silly something may seem, he is always there, encouraging you to at least give it a shot. As uncertain a situation, a project, a try may be, he remains your certain stability. 
'So what if it's stupid? You're curious of it. It excites you, so go and see if it could be working for you', he says and adds that regardless of what happens, in the end of the day you can just return to him as always. 
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When Beomgyu is making you comfortable...
... he waves at you when he sees you walking towards him, but is surprised to see you turning around to look at the other people who are walking down the street in an attempt to figure out if he might be meeting someone else.
'I was waving at you, you know', he says after greeting you when you are finally standing in front of him.
... he is puzzled to find you wearing long pajama pants as it is a warm summer night during which he is staying over at your apartment. He toys with the fabric when you sit down next to him and experimentally pulls the fabric up your leg a bit. 
'Isn't it way too warm in those?', he questions and listens to you negating in an obvious lie. 
'Just wear shorts. I won't do or think anything inappropriately only because I see your skin', he assures and when you leave to your bedroom to get changed, he adds, 'And don't you dare forcing yourself into that bra any longer'. 
... he observes you lingering a bit closer around him than usually when you feel particularly down. 
'Want to hug?', he simply asks and opens his arms when you shyly nod, inviting you into his embrace at your own pace. 
... he slides on the bench to sit right next to you when you are particularly anxious in a cafe, and he opens his hand as he watches you trying to hide your own trembling one. 
'I'll hold you', he offers and waits for you to place your palm on his. Then he gently encloses his fingers around your hand and makes you shift your focus by asking you to count every brown item you could see in the room. 
... he lets you wear his clothes, either when you're freezing and need extra layers or when it's warm outside but you don't want to wear too revealing clothes. 
'I have a whole closet, just try my clothes'. 
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When Taehyun is making you comfortable...
... he doesn't interrupt you. When you are speaking, regardless of how loud and enthusiastic or how quiet and hesitant you are when talking, he listens patiently. 
'No, keep talking. I wanna hear', he encourages when you insecurely stop yourself from sharing. 
... he challenges you. If you want to do something, but doubt yourself, he makes it into playful game to lift the pressure off your shoulders, stepping away from the burden of actively existing. 
'One hour? Okay, one hour and then we'll see who manages to write more applications. Winner gets, hmm, one wish. Anything? Yeah? Let's go', he cheers and starts typing right away.
... he coexists with you in silence. Grocery shopping, cleaning, reading, whatever it is, he doesn't force conversations. Eye contact, gentle smiles, pointing at items, that's already such richness of mundanity. 
'They have your ice cream on sale', he informs and watches you hurrying down the isle to grab some packages, happily smiling at him. 
... he directly teaches and explains things. He doesn't leave room for any condescension. If you don't know something or make a mistake and he knows then he just explains. If you want to learn something he already knows how to do, he offers to teach you if you want. 
'I know this choreo. Want me to play dance teacher?', he asks in a laugh, happy at the thought of spending time with you while you explore your interest. 
... he simply assures and compliments you. 
'You're doing great today', he beams when you tick off another point on your to-do-list and later on doodles a little smiley face on the bottom of your paper. 
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When Kai makes you comfortable...
... he takes interest in your interests to genuinely connect with you when you share pieces of your realms of curiosity. 
'Omg, the new episode of your favorite show is online', he informs you in excitement and watches you grabbing your phone to check it yourself. To the question if it would be fine if you watch it now, he just nods and asks if he can join you. 
... he reserves spots for you. In restaurants and cafes he always makes sure you have a place to arrive to when he is there earlier or you are definitely running late. At home he has one plushie that is assigned to you, so it can occupy a chair or one side of the bed, keeping others away from your destined space. 
'Over here', he says loudly when he sees you entering the cafe. He towers over the present people and waves you over to his table, where an empty chair and a cookie or fruit bowl or whatever snack you like, is waiting for you. 
... he laughs with you. He genuinely enjoys your humor and he will not leave you hanging whenever you are telling a joke and make a sassy remark. When you are being clumsy, he laughs it off with you. There is no second of insecure embarrassment when he is around. 
'Yo! I tripped over that exact edge yesterday, too!', he squeals as he holds you by your arm to prevent you from falling and bursts into laughter simultaneously with you when your eyes meet. 
... he lets you be shy. You talk too quietly for people to understand what you're saying? He translates calmly and with a sense of protection over you, his expression telling the listener not to dare making an unnecessary comment regarding your behavior. He lets you hide behind him when you are too shy to face someone or something. 
'Come here', he whispers when he notices your shyness and opens his jacket for you to step closer to him where he can hide you between the fabric and his body, telling people who look confused, that he's freezing a bit.
... he always responds to you. Any question you could possibly ask will get a useful answer and even if it's just him informing over his state of uncertainty regarding a topic or a repeated answer to a repeated question. He doesn't waste time engaging in the reality in the form that  it matters to you.
'Yes, of course I'd love you if you were a worm'; 'My first thought is that I don't mind either, but I feel like I tend to prefer pizza over burger today'; I said it minimum hundred times already, but here is another reminder: You look great and I am going to cuddle you to sleep in every state of your body'. 
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loveemagicpeace · 1 year
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🫧🌙Astro notes🩵
🎸People who have 9th house placements usually struggle with where to live and where to find a place that belongs to them. It is also difficult for them to get used to the environment they live in, if it is not an environment they really like - they always look for a home somewhere else or feel more at home in a foreign country.
💫Libra placements can be mean in the sense that they are more or less concerned with how they will turn out in society and sometimes they do things they wouldn't do otherwise just to suit society. They put a lot on others and how they look. Because of this, many times they can come forward as fake people.
🍒Mars in gemini will start talking to someone again just to get the news. Because many times they are interested in what is happening - many times they are prone to attract many people who spread rumours.
🫀Pluto in 1st house people will always be mysterious in some way. I think this is one of the most mysterious placements, because it is directly related to your personality. Which means that part of their personality will always be hidden. Because there are people who will always play it safe and never let go of all the cards in their hands. They will trust you with things, love you and all, but they will always feel safer by not fully revealing themselves.
🍿Fire signs mars especially someone who has a leo or sagittarius will always find fun wherever they are. They will do crazy things and laugh about it. You can have the most fun with them and they are also signs that will always be in action. If I've ever had a really good time with anyone, it's them. You can feel the passion when you are with them.Also they are very random people haha.
🥨Earth mars signs are always burdened with how something will turn out and how they will look in public. Many times they are bothered if someone is too loud or lively. They like peace and quiet. They don't want people next to them to look inappropriate. Sometimes I think they forget to live a little. They are very good at organizing and planning things and staying stable in situations but sometimes they forget to live.
⛵️When u have mars in fire sign wherever you go there will always be something happening - because mars represents what is happening to you and wherever you go there will always be some adventure a long the way. When u have mars in water sign your day will always contain emotional situations or things. You will feel your way through life with feelings. When u have mars in air sign your days will always be full and there will never be not enough time to get everything done. Many times you will meet people with whom you will engage in debates . When u have mars in earth sign you will always have some duties to perform and a lot of responsibility for things You will never be able to rest and you will always be looking for work.
🍓9th house synastry - it can also be felt in the way that you have the feeling that the person is changing your views, perspective and the way you experience the world. This person helps you grow as a person and shows you a new way of looking at things. This house can also be transformative, but in a different way than the 8th house. The 8th house is about getting to know things seriously and going through an inner journey. To see the truth that you didn't see before. It is a deep house overall. The 9th house is about seeing things from a better perspective and finding light through what is happening.
🧸Venus in pisces people do a lot for the person they love. And they vocally show how much they love the person. Their way of loving is very sweet and beautiful. They will do anything for the person they love. Many times I notice that they go to tattoo the name of the person they love very much. Men with this placement often express their feelings in public and are not embarrassed to show that they are grieving for someone.
🩵Capricorn placements -these people do not show it so outwardly, but they love very deeply and quietly. Their love is permanent and they will never replace you for another person. On the other hand, it rarely happens that they go from one relationship to another (they really take time for themselves). And they will never blame the other person for the breakup of the relationship. They know how to take their blame. And that's what I really appreciate about Capricorns, how grown-up they are at accepting blame.
⭐️If you ever ask me about connections in synastry - and which ones are the strongest, they are definitely the Mars-Venus aspect and the 8th house, because with these connections you don't need to see, you just feel the energy and how something always draws you to this person. At the same time, it is very noticeable when you look at two people with these connections and how deeply this energy is felt. These energies are often challenging - because at one moment you can feel too much, but the key to a relationship.
🌙Scorpio moon are actually the most emotional moon of all water moons. They cry very quickly and show emotions quickly. They don't talk about them openly like cancer and pisces moon but show them much faster. Many times when I talked about a deep topic with someone who had a scorpio moon, he got so deep that he always started to cry. They feel a lot.
☀️You can learn from Aries how to be independent and independent. They will always know how to give you the best advice on how to be you and how to become confident in the things you do.
🌸🥨Your best friend is the 3rd house. And at the same time the person who will understand you best. Since this is the house of communication, thoughts and thinking, you will find the best communication with this person and share the same opinions. This person can also feel like they are your sister or brother.
🧚🏼‍♀️☕️The person with the sign you have in the 4th house will give you the greatest feeling of home. You will feel a warm and familiar feeling with this person. Also, the synastry you will have with this person may be difficult at the beginning or involve things related to the family, but in the end it will be the person who will give you the most support and will care about you the most.
🧁The degrees of the planets define and refine your personality. It is not only a sign, but also stands. For example: Venus in Sagittarius -degrees of the taurus: you will like to travel, discover new things, have a will to live and look for passion, which you will find through music, food, through material things - in general, you will like to enjoy things and take your time for them. Venus in Scoprio in degrees of gemini: you will find a deeper way of perceiving and understanding things. You will always look for the deeper meaning of everything, but try to understand it from several perspectives. You will enjoy deep conversations, good movies, good meaning of words.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
✨Ig-bekylibra✨
-Rebekah⭐️🥨🍿
2K notes · View notes
targaryenluvs · 10 months
Text
LONELY WATERS
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pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!reader
summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.
warnings: nude swimming, nc voyeurism, stalking, scaring someone, inappropriate touching, chasing in waters, threatening and manipulation?? false misconceptions about victors, nc kissing and implied sexual intimacy and technically kidnapping?? (not forever) passing out from exhaustion due to sexual relations
a/n: THE VOICES 👹👹 italics is your thoughts!!! not proofread!
the water was cold, just how you liked it.
you’d been taking care of your cousin davine who’d literally put a hole in her finger trying to spin around the finnick odair’s trident since it was on display in a local gallery. but she’d overestimated her strength, let go of it whilst it was still in the air and it sliced her good. you met her outside as you’d been getting groceries and scolded her the whole way to the hospital.
“are you crazy? did you honestly think you could handle such a weapon on a whim? why the hell would you want to hold it anyways it’s just a trident.” you investigated as she whined and moaned, “why wouldn’t i want to y/n? it’s finnick! i just didn’t know it’d be that difficult.” you sighed as you halted her walking, bending down to look up at her, “i know it seems super cool okay. but the things he went through? the reason he has that trident? not cool. don’t idolise the games and the victors. the games are barbaric and those poor victors live their lives because the capitol lets them. i don’t want you anywhere near them okay? they’re dangerous.”
davine shook her head, “how? they’re just victors, they had to kill to win the games you know that y/n.” you sighed again, “they’re not dangerous because of the games they’re dangerous because of their time in the capitol. they care about themselves, after the hunger games they’ll probably do anything to keep themselves safe. act nice to us, earn our trust and support i- it doesn’t matter, just try not to go around him okay?”
finnick was watching you from the balcony as you explained your worries to davine. now now, who’d gone and told you all those lies? he wasn’t dangerous, as long as you were on his good side.
honey, he’d show you dangerous.
as you took off your dress you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you, so you stopped. your head zipped around , trying to look for a glimpse, a person, an animal, something. but you couldn’t see anything. and that should’ve been your first sign. someone that you could hear but not see.
as you lowered yourself into the water you felt at ease. the water was the one place you were by yourself. you thought you were. everyday had you, and everyone, surrounded by people all day. but here? peace.
“isn’t it dangerous at this time of night honey?” finnick emphasised as your hands shot up to cover your top half. “don’t hide now, i was enjoying the view.” you couldn’t believe your eyes, finnick odair, in the flesh. god the screens didn’t do him justice. i get it davine, why you wanted to hold the trident. his eyes were so green.
“w-what are you doing here?” finnick tilted his head as he crossed his arms, still on the land, “can’t i come down here? if i knew it was reserved i wouldn’t have come, but it isn’t, and i can do as i please. you never know who’s around sweetheart, not the best idea to come out alone.” you didn’t even notice that he was slowly taking off his own clothes till he was walking your way. “i swim here every night. no one’s ever here.” he was in the water now, and you’d begun to slowly back away, the water engulfing you slowly. chest, shoulders, neck. “well that’s going to change, don’t you wanna swim with me?” you shook your head as he mimicked you, shaking his head slowly, “no? you gonna stop me?” he was making his way towards you, cutting through the water like glass.
you were hyperventilating and your mind was foggy. you obviously weren’t thinking properly since instead of swimming towards the shore you swam further out. you could hear his laugh as you began to swim, “do you really think you can swim away from me? the place in which i excel? i’ve chased down tributes in water, fit, healthy and much more athletic than you. trust me, you’ll tire yourself out before you get any further.” but you didn’t listen, all you could do was try.
the rocks were large and created a huge wall, it was a rocky area of the beach which you were using as refuge from finnick. if there was one thing you never expected it was this, being chased by finnick odair through opens waters for- what, exactly? you had no clue.
you’d mistakenly began to relax, thinking you’d lost him when you dove under the water but the unrelenting pressure on your ankle had you wailing as you were yanked under the water. your eyesight was muffled and muggy, but you knew who’d dragged you under. finnick swam back to the surface, his hands right around you.
“should’ve listened to me.” he smiled, perfect teeth on show, barely puffed out, where as you felt as if your heart was going to burst from exhaustion and fatigue or plain fright. “now, i’m going to make sure, you remember me, remember what i’m going to do, and will continue to do.” you were sure his face was going to haunt you, everywhere you went. every time you saw a trident, even a damn fork. blonde hair and green eyes would send you spiralling every time you plucked them out from a crowd.
your tears were hot and streaming as you felt his hands roam, lower and lower. the rocks cut you as he pushed you into them, manipulating you into the positions he wished for. your body was so cold but his presence was like fire, his hands were warm and undeniable as they grabbed and kneaded at soft skin. his kisses were unrelenting and you were sure he’d leave a trail of bruises all over you in his wake.
you’d passed out at some point of the night, you were in the water, then on the rocks, then on the land yet you woke up in an unfamiliar home. maybe someone found you laying on the ground, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left you there, naked and ruined.
what were you going to do? if he approached you in public? in private? in your home? who in panem would believe your truth? that finnick odair, the capitols darling was capable of such unbelievable, vile actions. they’d probably turn it around you. he’d let them.
at least he’s not here. you thought to yourself, you could do your best to avoid him. it’s not like there aren’t plenty of women, gorgeous girls that could take his attention. he’d probably picked out another girl to go after, to charm and take the normal way.
your thoughts had taken you away from the present, the present being you laying besides someone. their muscular arm draped over your waist, the sheets covered your and his bare body. “had a good sleep did you?” finnick murmured into your neck as you froze up.
no no no no no. please no.
“yes honey. you’re here with me. now let me hold you.” he whispered as he pulled you into his chest, cautious of your patched up cuts. everything hurt. your shoulders, arms, thighs. your hands traced over the bite marks, the skin all over you, tainted.
just wishing for lonely waters in which you could relax led to you be trapped in his arms. and he sure as hell wasn’t letting you go. not when you brung him so much pleasure, yeah, he’d be using you for a while, if not forever.
if only you’d been nicer.
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writingoddess1125 · 10 months
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Secret perverted things the Old Men do to their S/O
Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk x GNReader
⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Sexual Themes, Masterbation, Perverted shit-
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Support me on Ko-Fi <<<
Masterlist <<<
Mihawk
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Whisper dirty things + Secret hand
• You damn near jumping out of your skin when you feel a sly hand grab a hand full of your ass so discreetly it makes you bright red.
• Mihawk isn't one to ge openly romantic unless you have been with him a very long time and he's head over heels. However he does have his dirty habits-
• This man is a whisper dirty talker- he knows he's smooth with it and uses it to rile you up to the best of his abilies-
• You'll he talking to another person about something random and he will walk past and you hear him whisper-
• "I can't wait to see you cum later- Slut"
• Rendering you stuttering and trying not to make a fool of yourself.
• Loves to inappropriately touch you in inconvenient times since he's a turn on.
• It being tapping the small of your back, rubbing a hand down your side, Grabbing your waist or even giving a slight squeeze to the back of your neck.
• IT DRIVES HIM WILD! Especially your micro reactions.
Shanks
• Will defiently fuck you with his fingers in a public place and whisper dirty things to you about staying quiet.
• "Keep down love, unless you want them all yo hear you~"
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Groping + Biting/Hickies
• You'd had to spend hours either covering the deep purple hickies or wear warmer clothes to hide it better.
• Shanks is a absolute secret pervert- He loves to do down dirty shit when no one is expecting it from him.
• For you, he loves to bite you all over!
• He relishes in knowing your walking around with his markings all over your body. From your neck, back, shoulder, stomach and especially on and between your thighs.
• "Like my personal peice of art~" He'd whisper before Sinking his teeth deeper into your skin and adoring your moans.
• He just gives a toothy grin however when he sees you walking around with a scarf or patchy makeup.
Buggy
• But his favorite is to grope you-
• "S-Shanks-" You'd whimper out as his hand was carefully placed between your legs massaging your sex with a skilled hand
• Is a bit more of a private person so will keep his habit behind closed doors or in sneaky ways-
• Like using blankets or close physical affection to sneak a grab at you and chuckle at your reaction.
• "Something wrong?~" While his thick fingers grush against your most sensitive areas.
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Looking up clothes + Panty sniffer
• Now Buggy is the least sneaky out of the trio-
• Is the type to float his head around for the perfect moment. Seeing you bending over to get a nice look at your ass- especially in those tight circus costumes 😉
• It's a cross between poor skill and also not caring enough to be truly sneaky.
• His worse thing is being a underwear sniffer. He's got a big nos for a reason and it's to take in your salivating scent.
• Is it gross?- Absolutely
• Does he care? Hell no!
• You start to figure this out when going through his coat and pulling out a pair of your underwear.
• "What the hell!?" You scream and glare at your Captian who is Grinning at you.
• "What? It's my favorite scent" He cackled put like the crazy clown he is. Ge will go as far as he float his hand to you and literally take your underwear off WHILE YOURE STILL WEARING THEM!
• You bend over to pick something up?- He appears right behind you hips pressed to you ass as casually as possible.
• "Buggy?- Uhhh what's this?"
• "Just saying Hi~" While grinding his hips against your ass.
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owliellder · 1 year
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My Superstar
post RE4! Leon Kennedy x afab Musician! Reader
MDNI 18+
Description: Leon was a fan of you. It was a well kept secret, how much he enjoyed your music and watching you perform. A little bit of lying can get a man a long way.
Warnings: Not proofread, Porn w/ lots of plot, Unprotected p in v (stay safe), some minimal stalkerish behavior, vague mention of a PTSD-induced panic (it's very short), awkwardness
Tags: Strangers to lovers, post RE4! Leon, Dom! Leon, Sub! Reader, this can be considered slow burn (?), multiple instances of masturbation cause Leon is touch starved, praise kink, handjob, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, nipple play, inappropriate use of mama, grinding, cowgirl position, Leon manhandling the reader a bit, this man cannot keep his hands off of you!!
Word Count: 11k
Cross posted onto Ao3
Note: Spent days working on this. DAYS!! It's crazy that I can sit here at work all night, multiple nights in a row, and write smut.
Anyways, thank you for reading
ψ(`∇´)ψ!
Leon Kennedy was one of the government's best agents; fighting horrors beyond the general public's comprehension like it was nothing at this point. He was only 28, yet he was rugged, stoic, and damn near emotionless. Every agent he's ever interacted with knew next to nothing about him. Outside of work, this man was an absolute enigma.
He stayed in a comfortable one bedroom, one bathroom apartment that was provided by the government. It was practically barren due to his line of work. What was the point of having anything if you're never there to enjoy it?
On the rare occasion Leon had more than a few weeks of quiet, he strictly kept to himself; declining invitations to go out and drink with his fellow agents, ordering in whenever he decided he was hungry, and even flat out ignoring anyone who approached him when he was performing his more domestic duties, like grocery shopping.
The blond had manners, sure, but he didn't want to entertain anyone's idea of him, especially the women. He was approached in that way often due to his muscular appearance and mysterious atmosphere. It was a bit of a pain for him to deal with. He just wanted to be left alone during his highly valued time away from agent work.
Leon looks and acts like the type of guy to just be a stick in the mud. He rarely ever indulged the other agents in his personal affects.
One evening while stuck doing paperwork from his last mission, the blond was dragged into a nearby conversation when one of the agents asked about his music taste. More specifically, if he preferred one music artist over another. All he did was shrug and said he didn't know the names, which stunned everyone involved in the conversation. When asked about not knowing two very popular artists, he even went so far as to say: "I don't listen to music."
Little did everyone know that Leon Kennedy was a filthy, dirty liar.
He listened to music, oh he did. This seasoned agent, who fought actual hellspawn, was a fan of you.
Actually, fan would be an understatement. He was a super fan.
Leon discovered your music a year ago while in a drunken stupor after he'd come back from Spain. He was in an incredibly tough spot mentally, physically too, and he just needed something to help with the constant feeling of dread clouding his thoughts. Amidst his drinking spree, he caught a glimpse of you when scrolling through TV channels.
The agent paused for a long moment before switching the channel back, his body lagging behind his brain. He was very wary at first, seeing as he really wasn't a music guy, but something about your voice drew him in further. Of course Leon blamed it on the massive amount of alcohol he'd drank, dismissing the tickling in his stomach with a shake of his head as he switched to a different channel.
From there, it spiraled.
Everywhere he went, he heard bits and pieces of you; the grocery store, in a car passing by that had its windows rolled down, even from the other agents occasionally when he got stuck doing paperwork late into the night. You were slowly taking over his thoughts, and though he seemed calm and collected on the outside, it was driving him insane.
Leon didn't understand why you were able to mess with him like this. It was so unfair. He'd managed to keep his personal life the way he wanted it, the one thing he had control over, and now he owned all of your CD's and even a t-shirt for god's sake...
He indulged himself in everything that was you; the way you smiled in the few music videos you had, the nervous habits you had when he was able to watch your interviews, old and new, and even the way you dressed. It had him almost browsing similar clothes at the store, his gaze lingering for just a moment too long as he wondered if you'd like something like that.
The whole thing made Leon feel gross, perverted even, especially when you crept into his thoughts late at night. Turning down other women's advances meant he never really got any action, never really feeling the need to touch himself either, so he found himself a little more pent up than he originally thought he'd be. The smallest of thoughts about you had him straining against his pants at work.
Yes, embarrassingly, he'd masturbated to the thought of you. Multiple times at this point. He felt terrible, but what you didn't know couldn't hurt you, right? He could live with the shame.
The agent made sure not a soul knew about his growing obsession for you and your sound, that much he could control.
Despite feeling incredibly emasculated, you did well by him. He didn't drink as much as he used to and he spent just a little more time each day off making his apartment cozier, though that's not the craziest part. That title belongs to the fact that whenever you were brought up at work, he rather subtly joined in on conversations willingly. He acted uninterested, didn't even add to the conversation really, but it was an opportunity for him to learn about you that he wasn't going to pass up.
From that, Leon learned that you were doing a concert in this city next month! That seemingly insignificant bit of information that was casually mentioned by one of the other agents nearly knocked the fucking wind out of him.
"Yeah, they're going to be in town for a week or something." One agent spoke up, shrugging before he tilted his disposable coffee cup towards their slips to take a small sip. Leon managed to collect himself internally to reply, clearing his throat quietly beforehand. "This isn't a big city. What're they doing here?"
In an attempt to seem casual, he rested his left arm rested on the back of a chair as he held his own cup of coffee in his right hand, taking a sip from it.
"Dunno." The agent responded simply, shrugging a bit. The topic quickly shifted after that, leaving Leon to mull over the simple tidbit he'd learned.
The next few weeks were grueling for the blond, feeling as if time was purposefully slowing down on him. His anticipation was growing by the minute.
He had managed to finagle himself a backstage pass along with a VIP ticket the second he made it home to his personal computer after that conversation with his coworkers, thank you special government access. The printed ticket and pass taunted him from where it sat propped up against the bottom of the computer monitor.
Leon kept the ticket and pass somewhere he would remember them, somewhere they couldn't get lost when he had to rush to work in a haste, which was a common occurrence for the agent.
The last week of the month was when you were going to be in town for your concert. Thursday, to be specific. It was relatively easy for Leon to play off his absence at work, having called out sick for the entire week so no one would suspect anything. Honestly, everyone was more concerned since he never got sick and even on the rare occasion he was, he never called out.
It made Leon feel just slightly guilty when a few of his fellow agents decided to send him get well cards... he'll worry about that later.
Every day until Thursday decided to roll around, Leon was practically vibrating in his apartment. He was so worried he would somehow miss the concert, so he decided to occupy himself by scrubbing the damn place top-to-bottom. It helped him release that ever-building tension he was accruing as he oh so patiently waited.
Wednesday night, he couldn't sleep, the anticipation of this one single event made it hard for him to sleep ever since he learned about it. But with the promise of seeing you tomorrow, he was actually trembling in his bed.
The man had tried his best to control his urges regarding you, but tonight was really getting to him. Just to relax, he thought, it can't hurt. A common thought in his mind.
Leon lost track of time and spent over 2 hours edging himself, the adrenaline from knowing he'd get to see you in person, be in the same building as you, had him biting down on his knuckles as he roughly fisted his cock. He at least still had the dignity to keep himself quiet, mostly not wanting his neighbors to hear how needy he was. He also didn't want your name to accidentally slip out of his mouth.
God, the things you did to him. All he had to do was simply imagine you were the one stroking his cock and he was gone, pathetically whimpering into his hand. You didn't even know he existed, but hopefully you would after that concert. He wished he could show you how much he appreciated you one day soon.
After the agent came with your name on the tip of his tongue, he decided to give up on sleep. He was wide awake, now needing a shower after making a sizable mess all on his hand, exposed abs, and the blankets that had bunched up near his groin.
Only 10 minutes later, he came again, this time in the shower.
Leon checked himself over numerous times during the hours leading up to your concert; dressing in a shirt a size too small to show off his muscles, spritzing himself with just the right amount of a cologne that he totally didn't buy because you said you liked those certain perfume and cologne notes once before, even going so far as to make sure not a single strand of hair on his head was out of place.
The anxiety got to him and, of course, he left almost 5 hours early to stand in line at the stadium you'd be performing at. He found himself felt awkward standing by himself in line, almost second guessing his decision to even be here. Almost.
Once the employees at the stadium started checking tickets and leading people inside, the blond began to tremble with anticipation. This once stoic, cold man was now reduced to nothing more than a nervous fangirl, his lips pulled tight as his ticket and pass were checked and he was lead through a set of double doors. Despite all his years living and working in this area, Leon had never been inside this place. Hell, he didn't even know there was a stadium here.
The VIP ticket granted him one of the best spots in his opinion. He wasn't right up against the stage, but he was close enough to where he'd be in the crowd that got to interact with you personally.
Once again, Leon was feeling awkward as he sat stiffly next to people he didn't know. Hopefully he can grow a pair quick so he doesn't make an absolute fool of himself in front of you.
The crowd waited for a good 30 minutes or so, probably to give everyone enough time to settle, before the lights dimmed, causing everyone to cheer loudly. The man tapped his fingers against his muscular thigh anxiously, attempting to get his breathing under control.
He did not like being crowded like this, but he had to put up with it for just a couple hours in order to see your entire concert. He could handle that...
No he couldn't.
Only a few minutes after you entered the stage, everything got to him fast. The screaming, the lack of any form of personal space, and his climbing body temperature caused him to flee as casually as physically possible. Leon never considered that he wouldn't be able to handle such a loud and crowded environment.
He pushed his way forward, flashing his backstage pass to one of the security guards standing in front of the temporary fencing put up. They moved the fence slightly to let him through, to which he speed-walked his way towards the bathrooms, following the signs that led the way.
Thankfully the bathroom was empty since the concert had just started. The man chose to go into the family bathroom since it the door had a lock and he didn't want anyone walking in on him while he calmed himself.
For fucks sake, he can do this! He knows he can, he has to. He bought the damn ticket and pass, he needed to see you.
After giving himself awhile to calm down, Leon eventually walked out of the bathroom, ready to go back in and claim his seat once more. The sound of music echoed through the large hallway that surrounded the area you were performing, causing his nerves to spike again for just a brief moment.
He took a deep breath and walked over to another security guard that stood by the set of doors he walked out of previously, using his pass once more to get back in since it led through the fenced off area.
The second the blond walked through, he froze, his eyes landing on you up on the stage. Your voice was so clear now, the way you moved and sang with a smile causing the corners of his lips to peak up slightly.
He just couldn't keep his eyes off of you, making his walk back to his seat incredibly drawn out. Seeing you at every angle possible at the moment was making his heart flutter, and shamefully, his dick twitch. He was grateful anything below his torso was obstructed by everyone jumping and dancing around him.
The lyrics to your songs resonated with Leon like nothing before, your proximity making it feel like you were singing directly to him. For him.
The concert lasted a little longer than either you or Leon had anticipated due to a random technical issue with the mic you were wearing.
It was funny to you, the slight and very short lasting hiccup caused you to joke with one of your bandmates, your hushed voice and laugh being picked up by their mic. God, Leon could listen to your laugh for hours.
Regardless of any mistake, your concert was nothing less than perfect to the man. To him, you could do no wrong, that much was clear by the way he zeroed in on you and you alone for the entire duration of the performance.
After thanking the audience with a grin and a wave, you exited the stage with your bandmates and retreated backstage to shed that post-concert adrenaline. All those eyes watching you? Yeah, that'll always be nerve-wracking, no matter how many times you do it.
You settled next to your drummer on a particularly uncomfortable couch, your guitar sitting propped up on a stand not too far away. The downtime after a concert was always very appreciated, considering you lacked any sort of energy after the adrenaline finally wore off. Your voice had grown hoarse, throat now sore, and ears ringing from the volume of the music earlier.
You wanted to have a chance to collect yourself properly before you met up with anyone that had a backstage pass, which was normally reserved for people actually working the event. You liked to keep it easy for you and everyone involved, which meant you only ever green-lit a very small number of them to be sold to the general public.
As much as you loved your fans, you wanted to keep your after-concert relaxing at a maximum. This kind of life was stressful, as fun as it was. You didn't want to come at your fans' throats because you were too exhausted to answer questions. The last thing you wanted was to get mad at people who were just excited to meet you.
Luckily for you, it doesn't seem very many people were able to acquire a backstage pass. Most were left to event workers, it seemed. A few stragglers had made it backstage with the help of security to get a picture and have you and your bandmates sign a poster or a shirt.
One final man wandered backstage an hour after the concert had ended, one you didn't notice as your exhaustion was really presenting at this point. Your bassist was the first to notice Leon, righting themselves from their spot leaning against the wall to greet him with a handshake.
The drummer and keyboardist followed suit, slowly leading the agent over to where you now sat on the floor, back against the couch since it had grown too uncomfortable for you.
You were nudged by your bassist, causing you to grumble and open your eyes to look up at whoever decided to rouse you. Catching sight of Leon prompted you to quickly stumble upwards onto your feet.
Smiling awkwardly, you reached your hand out to shake his hand, which he gladly accepted with a tender smile of his own.
"Leon." he stated simply, his eyes lidded as he looked into yours. "Very happy to finally meet you and your band."
This man was fucking gorgeous and he had the voice of a pornstar. Maybe he was a pornstar? Who knows, you weren't one to judge, especially not someone who's looking at you like that.
You introduced yourself, rather breathlessly as you'd stood yourself up too fast. "I'm sorry, we're all a little gross from the show.." you laughed out nervously, pulling your hand back from him to wipe against your shirt after realizing how sticky from sweat you were.
Leon laughed a low laugh with you, his eyes quickly raking over your figure before making their way back up to yours. "It's no problem, I'd be a little confused if you weren't gross after that performance. It was amazing, by the way."
He followed you and your bandmates over to a circular table sitting near the corner of the room, accepting a seat after everyone sat down and gestured for him to do the same. The blond really wanted to talk to you alone, but getting to talk to you at all was a feat in his books right now, and getting to sit across from you was more than enough.
"Thank you, Leon. We're very happy you enjoyed the show." Your drummer spoke, giving Leon a quick smile. Everyone else agreed, including you with a quiet, tired chuckle.
Leon was surprisingly good at hiding his hard on, but your hoarse voice and tired, disheveled look had his thoughts leading a less than innocent path. It was hard for him to focus on anyone else.
The agent asked general, boring questions that the band was asked almost every time they encountered a fan, though he was a lot more casual about it.
He kept giving you these looks that you couldn't quite describe. It almost seemed like he was eyeballing you for a reason. You were used to getting a bit more attention since you were the main face of the band, but wow he was really giving you some questionable looks. Not that you minded, of course. Hell, you started giving him your own coy glances here and there.
After about 10 minutes of general chatter, Leon began to single you out in questions; asking about your guitar, how you come up with your lyrics, and how you learned to sing, all the while staring at you with those half-lidded eyes of his.
You answered as best as you could, taking note of a smirk tugging at his lips. He'd noticed you blushing, his low tone and staring effecting you in your tired state.
You couldn't quite place it, and as cliche as it was, he seemed different to you. Leon wasn't like most of the other fans you'd met over the years, he seemed so nonchalant about everything.
This type of behavior was obvious when it came from younger fans. You and your band mates have dealt with a fair share of teenage crushes, but having a grown man display the same kind of mannerisms was strange. Not in a bad way, though.
In your defense, it was a bit refreshing to know you were desirable in that sense. You'd grown so busy with music that you just haven't worked to put yourself out there. Plus, there's always that inkling that anyone who would try their hand at you was just out for the money and fame, not to mention that handling a relationship with the spotlight always watching is really difficult. It can wear on it.
As everyone stood up from the table, your bandmates shook Leon's hand and said their thank you's again before beginning to make their way to a door where a couple security guards stood ready to lead them out to the tour bus. You waved them on before walking over to grab your guitar from the stand it was on.
"You're not gonna go with them?" Leon asked quietly, watching you from where he stood next to the table. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb as your bandmates walked out, his eyebrows furrowed slightly with confusion.
"Oh, I just have to put this away before I follow them out..." You yawned, grabbing the guitar case that wasn't too far away from you before sitting yourself on the floor, opening the case up. You began to examine the guitar for any damage that went unnoticed during the concert.
Leon nodded and moseyed over to you, standing a couple feet away before leaning over just a bit to watch you as you looked over your guitar, giving a small smile once more.
"You know," he started, voice almost a rumble as he spoke. His eyebrows raised as he turned his focus down a little further to look at you. "...you really were the star of the show."
You placed the guitar in it's case before looking up at him, having tilting your head upwards since he was currently towering over you. You smiled, huffing out a laugh through your nose. "Please, I wouldn't sound very good if it wasn't for my band.."
Leon clicked his tongue, bending over a little more to get closer to you. He was looking at you with those same half-lidded eyes from before, his voice lowering to a hushed tone. "I'm being serious. All I could focus on was you. And that voice of yours? Wow.."
He was now giving you a bit more of a serious look, though he still had the faintest smile. Your face relaxed with his words, smile widening ever so slightly. He spent the time to gauge your reaction before continuing to speak, moving next to you before crouching down.
"I know I'm just a fan, but I'd really like to see you again sometime." Leon turned his head away from you to look down at the floor, fiddling with his fingers nervously after resting his arms on his knees.
Now it was his turn to blush, his sudden proximity to you bringing out a more bashful side to him. He hadn't felt this way in years, so he wasn't quite sure how to act.
You followed him with your head as he crouched next to you, never moving your gaze away from him. Normally you'd never let a fan get this close to you for so long, but Leon didn't give off any sort of threatening energy. If anything, he just seemed like a nervous kid asking his crush to hold his hand during school. It was endearing having such a well-built, handsome man acting this way for you.
You averted your gaze for just a moment to zip up the guitar case before quickly looking back at the blond sitting next to you. "Do you have a pen?"
His eyes shot up from his lap to meet yours, his eyebrows raised up again. "What?" he asked, his voice a little too loud before he caught himself with a wipe of his palm across his lips. "Sorry- what did you say?" He must've been zoned out after admitting to wanting to see you again.
"Do you have a pen? Or a sharpie?" You repeated yourself with a gentle tone, eyes crinkling with your smile as he looked over at you. "Oh! Oh, yeah.. yeah yeah, I do.." He muttered, quickly standing up so he could dig through his pockets with both his hands. After a few seconds he pulled out a pen, clicking it a couple times before holding out the pen to you.
You nodded with a giggle, gently taking the pen from him. You grabbed his hand and flipped it so his palm was facing up, drawing a couple quick circles on your own arm to make sure the pen worked before carefully scribbling your number out onto his open palm.
Leon focused all his brain power on keeping his hand as still as possible for you, watching you intently as you wrote on his hand. He never thought it would've been this easy, imagining he'd have to follow you to at least a few other cities before even getting a chance at this.
Once you finished writing, you placed the pen back into the same hand. You held his hand with both of yours, closing his fingers for him before patting them. Every single nerve ending in his hand was tingling with your touch, his eyes wide as he turned his gaze from his hand and back up to your face where his eyes met yours.
"I have to go, but don't be afraid to call, okay?" You slowly slid your hands off of his and stood up, grabbing the handle on the guitar case. "I'm easily reachable."
Leon pulled his hand close to his chest, opening his fingers to sneak a glance at your number. He balled his hand right back up before shoving it into his pocket, like he'd somehow lose it if he didn't keep a tight hold on it. He started to speak, voice cracking a bit which caused him to clear his throat before attempting to speak again. "Yeah, okay.. yeah.."
The agent was reduced to nothing more than his nerves, taking a shaky breath as he gave you a crooked smile. You nodded in acknowledgement, blush dusting your cheeks again as you stood awkwardly next to him.
You pointed towards the door before starting to shuffle away from him, muttering out a quiet "It was nice to meet you, Leon.."
You take quiet note on how nice his cologne smelled as you walked in front of him to the door.
"It was nice to meet you too, sweetheart." Leon responded, his shyness immediately falling away as he watched you leave, allowing a security guard to lead him to the main arena so he could walk out to the main parking lot where his car was.
He slid into his car and sat for a moment before leaning his head against the steering wheel, arms above his head as he laughed. It almost felt fake, but when he angled his head to look at the number written on his hand again, he knew it wasn't.
The man almost crashed 3 times on the short drive home, getting honked at numerous times as he sat unfocused at traffic lights when they turned green. He even sat at a stop sign waiting for it to turn green for a whole minute until he realized that it was not going to be turning green.
At least he made it back to his apartment building alive, that's all that mattered to him right now. He wanted to enjoy this moment of euphoria before his own exhaustion caught up to him, calmly walking into his apartment in case any of his neighbors saw him. Once his front door was closed and locked, he scrambled into his office to write down your number onto a piece of paper. He wanted to make sure the numbers were at least legible, seeing as his hands were trembling.
Afterwards, he moved to his bedroom to sit on the edge of his bed, having taken off his jacket and shirt, leaving them both abandoned on the floor somewhere in his room. The entire night was finally setting in for him, his breathing turning ragged as he leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees.
The blond shared the same analogy you had, feeling like an awkward teen all over again with how he could barely calm himself from such a simple interaction.
Leon kept himself on the edge of his bed, sitting up only slightly to pull his cock out from his boxers and unzipped pants, rock solid and incredibly sensitive. You'd been so close to him, and god the way you looked and sounded after giving the concert your all made it so easy for Leon to paint a picture of what you'd look like after he got his hands on you.
He's been hard for hours at this point, not even caring to undress fully before jerking himself off with the same hand that you'd written your number on. He was so thankful his precum didn't stain through to his pants during that whole ordeal, he wouldn't have known what to do if you knew about his problem.
The pen smudged as he wet his hand with his precum, the liquid smearing the ink all along his hand and dick. He didn't care, it'll wash off, he just needed to take care of himself right now. He wanted you, and now he knew you wanted him too, to some extent.
Leon closed his eyes, moving his left hand down to fondle his balls as he stroked himself faster, doing his best to imagine it was you playing with him like this. Whimpering with every breath, he started to wonder how you'd handle him: Your hands were a lot smaller than his, would you have to use two hands to stroke him properly? Would you touch his balls like this? Bet you'd be so willing to suck his cock, fuck, you probably taste so good too. Eating you out would be so fun, hearing you moan out his name with that pretty voice of yours-
It only took about a minute for him to cum onto the floor, eyebrows furrowed and panting heavily as he gripped the base of his cock tightly, feeling it throb with each string of cum that pumped out.
Wonder if you're on birth control..
Leon had to return to work the next week, feigning the flu in its final stages to keep up with his little white lie. No one questioned him, only offering smiles and the occasional "glad you're feeling better".
He didn't really do his work to the best of his ability, his main focus being when would be the right time to call you.
Embarrassingly, the agent went out and bought a flip phone since he didn't have his own phone. He hadn't needed his own phone before, using only his work phone when anything work related came up.
He didn't want to risk putting your number into your work phone and he figured having your number was a good time to invest in a personal phone.
Now, Leon had to gamble with the idea of calling you. Obviously he'll wait until he's home, but it's hard to think of anything else when you're only a button away.
His aloofness was normal to his coworkers, even more explainable considering he was "sick" last week. He was incredibly thankful no one bothered him with extra work tonight.
After work, he was sat on his couch, staring down at his new phone while the TV was on, flashing only colors in his periphery since he'd muted it. It was only 5pm, he was contemplating calling you. He wanted to hear your voice again, but he didn't know if it was too late in the evening or not.
You said you were easily reachable, so it's all or nothing, he guessed.
He pushed through his nerves, pressing the call button before slamming the phone against his ear with a slight wince. Every ring caused him to tense up.
On the final ring you finally picked up, breathing out a quick "Hello?" into the phone. Leon sat there frozen, sucking in a harsh breath before letting out a cough.
"Hey-.. Uh, hey. It's uh, it's Leon.."
There was a bit of a pause on the other end before you responded, voice cheerful despite sounding out of breath.
"Oh hey! I was wondering when I'd hear from you! How are you?"
"Uh.. I've been alright... how about you?"
Leon patted his thigh with his left hand, mentally chastising himself for his voice cracking again.
"I'm doing good, uh, I'm fighting a spider, so.."
You breathed into the phone with a laugh, causing Leon to smile and relax a bit as you kept the conversation alive.
"Oh yeah, spiders are kind of evil. Need me to ward it off?"
"I mean, I would take you up on that offer, but I'm already about 100 miles away from your city at this point."
Leon cursed internally, turning his head away from the phone to sigh where you could hear it.
"I appreciate it, though. This thing is nasty."
Your voice pulled him back to the phone, bringing a smile back to his face.
"You should get uh... that drummer of yours to help you. Two against one."
"Everyone is out at dinner. I'm all alone in this, Leon."
Your dramatic tone made him chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch.
"Okay, well, I'm with you in spirit."
The laugh you emitted only egged Leon on further.
"How long are you gonna be in the next city? If uh.. if you don't mind me asking."
"For a few days. It's our last city on the tour we're doing, then we go back to LA."
The agent nodded silently with a hum, his confidence slowly coming back to him. He needed to put his intentions out there.
"Would you mind if I drove out and took you to dinner tomorrow?"
He's now sweating bullets. There was another brief pause before you responded, the silence causing him to tense up once more.
"...I normally wouldn't accept something like that... but, you know what, I'll take you up on that."
Leon let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, now leaning forward with a relieved look. You could hear the relief in his voice too.
"Uh- awesome! Okay, I'll find somewhere nice to take you."
You two said your goodbye's and hung up after you told the agent which city and hotel you were staying at.
He took it upon himself to go into his office and search up the location on his computer, easily memorizing the path to where you were since it mostly just involved following a freeway the majority of the way.
It took awhile for Leon to calm down after that call, now busy anticipating his journey tomorrow to see you. It'll be easy to call out of work again, saying the sickness flared back up or something along those lines. Anything to see your pretty face again.
He spent the night with himself, finding himself unable to fall asleep once more, just like the night before your concert. The man had never been or felt this desperate before, chasing some person he barely knew over a silly crush. Okay, it was more than a crush if he had to be honest with himself.
Planning on leaving early, he was more than frustrated when he finally fell asleep close to 4am. He wanted to scope out good restaurants and nice places to park, if it came down to that. The hopeful bastard.
Groggy, Leon got himself up only 2 hours after he'd fallen asleep, drinking the coffee he'd made himself on the stove days ago. It tasted stale, but it would have to do.
He definitely sounded the part when calling out sick again, which was accepted without question.
Wanting to make sure he looked his best even after a long car ride, he showered and shaved his stubble right before leaving, making sure to bring his cologne, hairbrush, and gum.
The drive was boring, traffic irritated Leon, but he eventually made it to the city you were in at around 3pm. He called you again, thankful you answered, and asked if 6pm was a good time, to which you happily accepted.
The three extra hours provided the blond with the much needed time to explore restaurant options and generally nice places to walk around. You probably weren't in this city often, if at all, so wandering like tourists seemed fit.
He eventually settled on a nice sushi restaurant since he hadn't had sushi in awhile. They had plenty of non-sushi options on the off chance you didn't like sushi. Or, you could pick the restaurant, he didn't mind, as long as he got to spend time with you.
Leon was nervous. He had to wipe his hands off a good few times since they'd grown clammy while gripping the steering wheel. He was parked outside the hotel you were staying at, having called you just a couple minutes before to let you know he was outside.
While waiting, the agent decided to get out and lean against the passenger door of his car. He wanted to be a gentleman and open the door for you, though he wasn't really sure people still held the door for others anymore.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk out past the main sliding doors of the hotel, immediately straightening his posture while giving you an awkward smile. You looked absolutely amazing.
"Hey," Leon breathed out, frozen for a moment before suddenly remembering to open the passenger door for you. He just couldn't keep his eyes off of you.
"Hey." You replied back, almost just as winded as he was. "Sorry, I didn't expect the elevator to be so busy. It took a couple rotations before I could even get down here."
You smiled at Leon as a silent thanks, sitting yourself down in his car before he carefully closed the door once you'd settled. After getting into the car himself, he gave you a quick glance and a smile of his own before driving to the restaurant.
Although the conversation between you and Leon was airing on the side of awkward, the two of you slowly loosened up as the night went on. Your apprehension regarding going out with a fan quickly left once you realized how charming the man actually was.
The power dynamic was one of your main worries. You didn't want to feel like you were taking advantage of a man so eager to please, but Leon actually had the same worry, considering his work as a government agent gave him a lot of special privileges that aren't normally handed out to the common person.
Luckily for him, you didn't pry about his work. You gladly accepted his vague description about working for the government and that was that.
You also didn't pry about his interest in you as a musician when the topic came up. That was a given.
After dinner, the two of you wandered around the downtown part of the city for awhile, sightseeing while chatting about anything and everything. You felt oddly safe around Leon, something about him just screamed stability.
Leon felt the same way about you, but the way he described you was fluffy. You made him feel fluffy and warm. And the promise of domesticity and love only made him want you more.
You were so easy to talk to. He rarely ever indulged anyone about his personal life, but he found himself talking about anything he could remember about his childhood on a whim with you.
You were stopped a few times by fans that recognized you. The majority of them had driven up to the city to see your concert.
He knew it was going to happen, but Leon really didn't like how they so carelessly wandered up to you. Did you not look busy to them? Pretty disrespectful, if you asked him.
Leon made sure to make his presence known by placing a gentle hand on your shoulder which pulled you from the brief conversation you'd been so rudely dragged into. If he actually got an opportunity to be with you, the attention you receive will definitely take some getting used to.
A reserved, near isolated man with a popular musician? What a combo that would be.
Eventually, you and Leon ended up back at the hotel you were staying at. The blond didn't want to leave, and it was clear you didn't want him to leave either, but he had work the next day and you were going to be extremely busy the rest of the week. So, as one does, you invited him into your hotel room anyways.
To hell with work, calling out again wouldn't hurt. He was good at feigning illness.
He followed you inside like a puppy, his chest practically pressed against your back the entire way up to your room. You didn't share a room with your bandmates, Leon thanks god for that, so he was able to settle a lot quicker once you led him into the room. You both took your shoes off, leaving them near the door.
As expected, the agent was awkward at first. The two of you just sat on the edge of the bed next to each other and talked for awhile longer.
"I'll admit, it's been a really long time since I've done anything. With anyone." Leon admitted quietly, his hands clasped together in his lap since he didn't quite know what to do with them in the moment.
You laughed nervously in response, almost mimicking his position. "Yeah, it's been a long time for me too. I'm very out of practice.."
He turned his head to look at you with a weak smile tugging at the corner of his lips, eyebrows furrowed upwards. "We don't have to do anything. We can just... hang out for awhile if you want to?"
You contemplated for a moment before responding to him again. "I mean, I'm totally fine with either or..?"
Leon really wanted to fuck you. He's been imagining this moment ever since he first discovered your music. He wished he wasn't so anxious, but he needs to power through that. He needs you.
"Can-" the man cleared his throat before taking in a small breath, voice hushed. "Can I kiss you?"
The second he heard you whisper out a weak "yeah", he quickly angled himself so his body was facing yours, tilting his head to the right as he leaned in and pressed his lips gently against yours.
It only took you a brief moment to bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, his hands moving to grip your waist, rubbing circles against it through your shirt as the kiss deepened.
He loved how vocal you were. You sang beautifully, sure, but he never would've guessed you'd be so sensitive to touch. The little whimpers you made just from being kissed and caressed were already driving him crazy.
Leon moved down to kiss your neck, nipping and sucking hickeys wherever he could. He tucked his fingers underneath your shirt, bunching it up partially before moving away from your neck to pull your shirt off.
He took some time to ogle at your figure, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he shifted himself on top of you, gently pushing you back against the bed to continue his assault on your neck.
Your breathy moans only continued to egg him on. Everything he's ever felt regarding you quickly came bubbling back up, leading him to leave a trail of hickeys down your neck, all along your collarbone, and on the tops of your breasts.
Leon had moved his right hand to grip the point of your hip, the left groping one of your boobs through your bra while keeping himself propped up with his knees on either side of your legs as he sat hunched over you.
The man couldn't keep his hands off of you, his hands dragging up and down your body as they swapped places every few seconds.
"Leon-.. god, please..." You moaned breathlessly, chest heaving. He groaned at the sound of his name leaving your pretty lips, dragging himself back up pull you into a heated kiss.
"My name sounds so good when you moan it." Leon growled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip which caused you to gasp, allowing him to lick into your mouth. "You taste amazing."
Your hands moved from the sheets to wrap around his neck again, carding your fingers up through the that fluffy golden hair on the nape of his neck. When he pulled away so you both could catch your breath, he wasted no time standing up to shuck off his own shirt.
Leon smirked when you sat up on your elbows, watching your wide eyes rake down his sculpted torso.
"Glad you like what you see." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to scoff playfully and grab one of the pillows off the bed, tossing it at him. He laughed, catching the pillow to throw right back at you, albeit a little softer than you had. "Hey, hey, alright."
You laughed with him as the pillow landed on your chest, letting it slip off to the side as you sat up fully. You tucked your legs under your ass, sitting back on your haunches as you reached forward to rest your hands against his thighs.
Looking up at Leon with those doe eyes, he just couldn't resist. He knew what you wanted. "Go on, don't be shy.." he spoke in a hushed tone, moving his right hand to rest on your head to play with your hair.
He angled his head down so he could watch you fumble with his belt, wanting to let you set the pace now.
"Thaaat's it, there ya go mama..." Leon whispered with a gravelly voice, eyes half lidded as he watched you finally pull his belt from the loops. Your hands were shaky as they now worked to unbutton and unzip his jeans, glancing up at him occasionally to make sure you were doing everything right.
Once you were able to fully undo the agent's jeans, he moved his hand off your head so he could tug them all the way down for you, kicking them away which left him in only his boxers and socks.
As mentioned before, you were out of practice. You didn't have a very good frame of reference for men, but Leon's sizable erection straining against his boxers was more than intimidating.
The man could tell you were worried. He didn't want to scare you, no, that's the last thing he wanted. So he brought his right hand up to hold the side of your face, caressing your cheekbone his thumb. "Don't feel pressured, sweetheart. Take your time for me."
You looked up at him as you took in a shaky breath, leaning your head against his hand for a moment with a nervous smile. "Thank you... Just-.. just work with me here.." you huffed, moving your gaze back down to his bulge.
You lifted your head away from his hand to which he moved back up to stroke your hair, keeping his gaze fixed down on you.
You tucked your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, glancing up at him one last time, prompting him to smile in approval. You nodded, swallowing dryly as you slowly tugged them down.
His cock sprung out at you and you let out a quiet gasp as it stood directly in front of your face now, tip red and angry. "Oh wow... okay.." you whispered, mostly to yourself as you took in the size of it.
Leon gave a breathy chuckle as he watched you, moving his legs a bit so his boxers would fall the rest of the way down.
You let your hands rest against the tops of his thighs again, a bit closer to his v-line as you looked back up at him. "I like your uh-.. I like your happy trail..."
Your quiet admission dragged another laugh from the man, who was looking right back at you with probably the most endearing expression. "Oh, do you?" You nodded. "I'll make sure to keep it for you then."
The way Leon kept stroking your hair felt so nice, his voice was really encouraging too. You were incredibly thankful he was willing to take things slow and let you lead for the moment.
Speaking of taking the lead, you brought your eyes back down to stare at his cock, watching precum pearl from the slit. You gave yourself one last mental push before bringing your right hand up to wrap around the base, glancing up at Leon when he hissed from the sensitivity.
Your eyes moved from his dick to his face every few seconds as you began slow, languid strokes. Once the blond was able to get past the sensitivity, he was smirking at you again, those encouraging words beginning to slip from his mouth again. "Mmm~... that's gooood... just like that, baby.."
Your confidence in the whole situation was growing with every word of praise Leon directed at you, leading to your hand beginning to move faster. Slick was pooling into panties now, especially with the way he was looking at you with that blissed out expression.
You must've had your own look going since he felt the need to comment on it. "You like that, mama? Like the weight on my cock in your hand?" You only moaned out in response. "Yeah you do. If only you could see the way you look, fuck- I wish I could take a picture. Those pretty eyes lookin' up at me while you stroke it, pouty lil' lips- shit~..."
Leon let you stroke him for awhile longer before patting your head softly, pulling your hand away from him. "C'mon, love. You're a bit overdressed for this, aren't you?"
Damn, you hadn't even realized you still had your bra and pants on. You made quick work of the bra, reaching back to unhook it before letting it fall forward and off your shoulders.
"Ohh~.. There's my gorgeous girl~.." Leon purred, eyeballing your now exposed breasts, cock twitching as he looked over the hickeys that he'd covered the tops of them with. "Those tits of yours look a bit heavy, mind if I hold 'em for ya?"
The agent chuckled as you clicked your tongue at him, and though you didn't want to, you couldn't help but smile at his joke.
He gently pushed you down back onto the bed by your shoulder, letting you move your legs out before he climbed on top of you again. "At least let me love on 'em for a bit?"
The way he said that almost seemed like he was begging, and maybe he was, but regardless you nodded, blush deepening as he brought his head down to your breasts.
He resumed how he was before when he was on top of you, caging you underneath his broad form. Leon teased you, kissing all around the soft mounds before bringing his right hand up to grope one while he attached his lips to the other, licking and sucking your nipple. Your hands flew up to grip at his hair, needing some sort of register.
"O-oh... Leon- ah~! ..Pl-ease be gentle..." As much as he tried to hold back, he couldn't help how desperate he was to taste and feel all of you; your soft cries of pleasure, the way your voice broke when he rolled his tongue around the perked bud, he wanted it all. Soon he was moaning, nearly whimpering, eyes closed while his mouth swapped from one nipple to the other, making sure both got equal treatment.
Leon had shifted his legs up a bit more, almost sitting on your thighs as he sat hunched over you, hands tight on your waist as he centered his focus on using his mouth to toy with your nipples, cock laying right below your belly button as it weeped onto your stomach. He was soaking you in, in love with how responsive you were, in love with you.
Eventually, you tugged his head away from your tender breasts, his mouth wet with his saliva as he looked at you with a dopey smile.
Leon needed more of you. He needed to taste more of you.
Pulling you to the edge of the bed as he stood, Leon quickly yanked off your pants, tossing them to the side. He took a moment to drink in the sight of you; blush running down to your chest, hickeys covering your upper half, nipples swollen, that beautiful body, panties absolutely soaked. He really wanted to take a picture now.
After the agent finished taking in the scenic view in front of him, he slipped down onto his knees, pulling you by your hips so your legs dangled over the edge.
He sighed contently, placing his hands on the inside of your thighs as you attempted to close them. He wasn't really listening at this point, but he could hear you whimper something about 'not staring at it'.
Alright, Leon won't stare. He'll do you one better.
He planted his face right against your clothed pussy, breathing in your heady scent with a low groan, causing his cock to twitch again. "Ohh-ho hooo.. shit baby~.. that's good..."
You gasped, legs trying to close instinctively again which Leon didn't allow. He was so strong, barely straining to keep you spread wide for him as flattened his tongue against the gusset before closing his mouth around it. His nose bumped against your clit over and over as he moved his head up and down, taking in everything you had to offer through your panties.
Your panties started to irritate the man fast, growling as he had to pull himself away from you to tug them off. He dropped them next to where his knees sat on the floor, making a mental note to take those whenever he left your hotel room.
As soon as your panties were off your body, he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, using his right hand to reach up and spread your pussy lips. You whined again about not wanting him to stare which was cut off with a moan as he moved his thumb to press against your clit and rub in small circles.
"If I wanna look at ya, I'm gonna.. and you're gonna let me too..." Leon slurred slightly, eyebrows furrowing as he watched you clench around nothing with a whimper.
"Oh, you like that, huh?" He rumbled, now stroking his index and middle finger through your folds, spreading slick up to your clit so he could keep massaging it. "You like when I get a little bossy with you, pretty girl? Hm?"
You nodded, eyes shut tight as you balled your fists up in the sheets. "Look at me, mama.. Watch me..." Your eyes opened at his words, teary from the stimulation, and he laughed. "There ya go~.. Watch me devour this sweet little cunt of yours."
His words barely had a chance to register in your clouded head before his face was buried back into your crotch, immediately licking along your folds. He slung your other leg over his shoulder before sliding his tongue around your slit, moaning as slick ran into his mouth. You responded with slurred moans of your own, hands flying back to grip at his hair. You muttered out barely legible nonsense, words almost always cut off by moans and whines as Leon sucked on your clit, nipping at it ever so gently.
The agent hadn't experienced this in so long. You sounded so pretty, tasted so good. You were all his now and he had to make sure you knew that too.
"Taste so good. All mine." He growled into your cunt, wrapping his arms under and over your legs so he could place his hands on your hips, holding you steady to keep you from squirming. "This pussy's all mine." He repeated with a chuckle as he continued to lap at your folds, tongue dipping into your hole.
"L-Leon-! I-...I can't-!" You cried out, tugging at his hair as you tried to pull his face away from you. You were close, it was too much.
Oh he needed this. Leon needed you to cum on his face. He brought his still partially slicked up fingers to your pussy, pulling his mouth away for just a moment while he wet them again with a mix of your slick and his saliva.
Immediately, he placed his mouth over your clit, sucking as he pushed one finger into your dripping hole, drawing a breathy gasp from you.
His finger was quickly buried to the knuckle, wiggling it a bit inside of you before starting to pump it in and out of you.
The combination of feeling Leon's thick finger inside of you, curling to hit just the right spot while sucking on your clit had you tumbling over the edge, choking out a moan as tears spilled from your eyes.
It had been so long since you'd done this with anyone, and even then, no one really took the time to focus on you like this.
Your orgasm racked through your body, legs trembling as you gasped, trying to catch your breath. Leon eased you through it, pulling his mouth away so he could look watch his finger slowly disappear into you repeatedly. Once he pulled his finger out, he sucked it clean, leaning down just a bit to drink you up.
"Mm.. good job, sweetheart.." He sighed, taking the chance to stare at your glistening cunt for a bit longer before setting your legs back down on the bed so he could get up off his knees.
The man sat you up as he crawled onto the bed, holding onto your waist as he moved to sit against the headboard, legs out in front of him. He pulled you up onto his lap, making sure you were in a comfortable position.
"That good, mama?" Leon whispered, running his hands down your arms as his eyes trailed down to where your cunt sat right against his cock.
"Yeah... yeah that's good..." You whispered back, angling your head down a bit as you moved your hips experimentally. You did it again when Leon moaned, his hands moving down to your hips so he could grind you down his dick.
The agent harshly huffed through his nose, watching your puffy lips glide across the length of him. "Damn, that's it baby- grind on my fucking cock... god you're so wet."
You let Leon grind you down onto him, weak and drawn out moans being pulled from your lips every time the head of his dick bumped against your swollen clit. He was so focused on you.
"Lift up for me." He ordered, moving one his hands to pat your thigh. You mindlessly did as he told you, lifting yourself up onto your knees so he could line himself up with your hole.
"Gonna fuck ya good.." The blond grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows as he brought his hand back up so both were on your hips again. "Gonna have ya bouncin' on this cock, baby.."
He slowly pushed you down, both of you moaning in tandem when his head pushed past that tight ring of muscle. He gave you a moment to adjust before pushing you further down, mouth agape as your pussy sucked him in.
Once you were fully seated on his dick, you let out a shaky whine, placing your hands on his pecs for balance even though Leon would make sure to keep you upright.
Giving you more time to adjust, he tightened his grip on your hips, feeling your walls clench around him before relaxing a bit. His breathing was ragged, doing everything in his power not to pound into you right then and there.
Instead, he began to grind you on his cock, moving your hips back and forth. You gasped and moaned, nails digging into the taut muscle on his chest. He couldn't help but moan as well, just the sight of him balls deep in your cunt was enough to have him ragged.
"Okay..." You breathed out, causing Leon to hold your hips still. "Okay.. okay I-.. I'm good.." you nodded, looking down briefly where the two of you sat connected before looking up at his face.
Leon didn't need to be told twice, breathing out a groan as he slowly lifted you up. The head was almost pulled out of you before he sat you all the way back down onto his dick. Your lips made an 'o' as you felt him caress the inside of you, breathing still shaky.
After repeating the process a couple more times, he started to pick up the pace, even meeting you with thrusts of his own.
"God- shit baby-.. fuuuck~.." Leon breathed out, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on bouncing you up and down while timing his thrusts. "Bounce on my cock, mama.. Feel it deep in that pussy?"
He spoke breathlessly, eyes moving from your face down to where his dick drilled into you, almost drooling at the erotic sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching.
"Uh-huh.." You moaned, moving your hands up to his shoulders so you could start to bounce yourself without Leon's help. "S'good.. ohhhh~.."
"Yeeeaahhh, it's good, huh?" Leon smirked, though it faltered a bit as you ground yourself down onto him again before starting to bounce again. "You love it, don't ya?"
You nodded lazily, tears starting to run down your face again while your legs trembled as they grew tired from the workout. The agent took notice of this, taking it upon himself to start bouncing you again since his hands were still firmly planted on your hips.
"Sing for me, sweetheart. Let me hear my superstar sing." Leon's thrusts turned hard as he felt you clench around him, listening to the way your voice rose again as your sensitivity grew. He filled you in all the right places, like you were made for him.
Your second orgasm made you scream, though it wasn't as loud as you thought considering your voice cracked. Your back arched, pussy clenching around Leon's cock like a vice.
He moved his arms up to wrap around your lower back as it arched, muscles flexing as he pulled you against his chest. He fucked you through your orgasm, thrusting up into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. You were so overstimulated, tears now streaming down your face as choked out moans were forced out of you.
"Want me to cream this sloppy cunt of yours?" He growled into your ear, only getting a loud whine in response. "Words, use your words, c'mon."
"P-please-!" You managed to stutter out as he pounded into you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so you could bury your face into his neck, tears dripping onto his exposed skin.
"Fuck- finally..." Leon rasped as he thrust into you for a few seconds longer before he held you firmly down on his lap. He came with a low groan, chuckling at your gasp when you felt him throb and pump you full of cum. "Take it, baby, fucking take it all..."
You both sat unmoving for a long minute, catching your breath before sitting up with a whine as your legs screamed at you and his cock shifted inside you.
The agent eased you off with a hum, watching his cum drip out of you and onto his stomach. You sat back once you felt him spread his legs for you, slotting yourself between them.
"Oh you're just perfect, aren't you? Gonna clean me off?" Leon chuckled when you nodded, sighing when you pressed your face against his cock after laying yourself on your stomach.
You licked a lazy stripe up the length of it, eyes closing as you tasted a mix of your juices and his cum. He placed a hand into your hair, gently combing through it as you sucked the head into your mouth with a soft whimper.
Leon watched with hungry eyes as you sucked on his cock, fitting what you could into your mouth before pulling away to lick him
clean, even going so far as to lick the cum off his stomach that had dripped out of you a minute prior.
"Perfect.. So good for me." Leon muttered out bits of praise for you, petting through your hair once you'd finished and just had his dick pressed against your cheek while you stroked it with your right hand. "My perfect superstar."
You smiled weakly, sitting up and crawling to the side so he could lay down, pulling your back flush against his chest the second you laid down.
The both of you were up early the next morning showering, Leon helping you clean by holding you against the shower wall so he could eat you out.
You had to go in to help your bandmates and crew set up the next stage you'd be performing at, so you gave Leon a tender kiss goodbye, reminding him to call you.
Oh he'll be calling you, right after he calls his boss. He forgot to call out and he already had a couple missed calls from them.
1K notes · View notes
narumi-gens · 9 months
Text
The L Word
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Miya Osamu x f!Reader
summary: Love makes people stupid. Osamu knows it firsthand.
warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, established relationship, love confessions, fluff with a teeny hint of angst, happy ending, small miscommunication bc Osamu is an idiot but it gets cleared up, Atsumu to the rescue, Osamu being the dumber Miya twin for a change, Osamu really goes through it in this fic but it's all okay bc you love him
notes: literally wrote this entire thing today bc Osamu just does something to me. this takes place earlier on in the Meet the Miyas couple's relationship and you don't have to read the other fics to get this one, but I sure would like you to.
words: 3.6k
part of the Meet the Miyas series
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Osamu’s date with you was meant to be a quick dinner. If he was thinking more clearly, he wouldn’t have suggested seeing each other that night at all. It’s been a hectic week for the both of you and he knows that you have to catch an early morning train for a meeting out of town the next day. 
But he can’t think clearly when it comes to you. Because he loves you. He doesn’t know when exactly it happened, but he knows it was probably after only a couple of dates, which he also knows is crazy. 
Again, he can never think clearly when it comes to you.
It means that he’s spent the last few months in a love-induced haze of happiness as your budding relationship has progressed. It’s even been enough to dull the irritation he would normally feel at how smug Atsumu has been about being the one to set the two of you up in the first place.
Of course, none of that is on his mind now. The only thing he can currently think about is how much he doesn't want your evening together to end. 
It’s a desire of his that you’re more than willing to indulge in as your time at the restaurant stretches on long past dessert. When he offers to walk you home even though you live in opposite directions, you don’t even bother to give a perfunctory protest. You merely nod with a wide grin, happily accepting the arm he wraps around your shoulders as you curl into his side. 
And what began as a sweet kiss goodnight outside of your building is now bordering on something inappropriate for a public setting, even on an empty street. 
Your soft lips move against his and his tongue slips into your mouth to taste you. One of your hands rests against his neck, while the other runs through his hair, making him shiver at the sensation of your fingernails gently running against his scalp. Both of his are tightly holding onto your waist, holding you as close as he possibly can so that the only thing separating you two is the clothing you both are wearing. 
“Come upstairs,” you breathe as he begins to trail his lips from yours to the spot just below your ear that always has your knees feeling weak whenever he lavishes it with attention. 
Unfortunately, Osamu has just enough of his sanity left to know what the responsible choice is.
“Ya need to sleep,” he murmurs against your skin before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck that makes you sharply inhale. “Yer meeting tomorrow is important. Gotta be well rested.”
“So thoughtful,” you tease as you guide his lips back to yours to give him another heated kiss, only to pause for air a moment later. “I promise. No funny business. We can just sleep.”
He can’t hold back his snort at your suggestion or his laugh when you pout at his reaction. He rests his forehead against yours, looking at you with a fond smile on his shining and slightly swollen lips. 
“We never ‘just sleep’ when I come up,” he reminds you and your pout deepens.
“But I don’t want to say goodbye yet,” you tell him, and damn if his heart doesn’t ache with how full of love it is for you.
“Okay. We don’t have to say goodbye,” he agrees and your expression lights up. However, it falls as he continues to speak. “We’ll just say goodnight instead.”
“Osamu,” you whine and he presses a soft kiss to your lips before you can say anything else.
“Goodnight,” he says.
When you open your mouth again, he gives you another smiling kiss.
“Goodnight.”
You open your mouth again, a smile of your own tugging at your lips, which he kisses again.
He loves you. 
“Goodnight.”
You playfully open your mouth as you pretend to say something. He kisses you.
He loves you.
“Goodnight.”
Another attempt on your part to protest. Another kiss to silence you.
He loves you.
“Goodnight.”
Your mouth opens. He gives you a kiss. 
He loves you.
“I love you.”
He freezes, but not because he’s accidentally spoken the words that have been on his mind these past months. 
It’s because the words don’t come out in his voice. They come out in yours.  
His eyes snap open to find you gazing up at him with a small hint of nervousness, but otherwise nothing but pure affection and fondness and love. It’s everything he’s been dreaming of — literally. He has literally been dreaming about this exact scenario.
But in his dreams, he gently murmurs that he loves you in return and softly runs his thumb along the apple of your cheek. The two of you then kiss beneath the first soft snowflakes of winter or the floating spring cherry blossoms or a drizzle of summer rain.
Reality is much worse. Because in his shock and disbelief, all he can do is open and close his mouth, struggling to put all of his joy and excitement and love in return into words. And the longer the silence stretches on, the touch of hesitation that was initially present on your face slowly begins to morph into sheer horror.
Your embarrassment is visible at his lack of a response and when you force out a small, self-conscious laugh, he knows that you’re regretting ever speaking those three beautiful words aloud.
“Sorry,” you wince and a cold shard of ice pierces his heart.
No, no, no. Don’t apologize. Never apologize. Not for loving him. Not when he loves you, too. 
You clumsily try to extricate yourself from his hold and he’s too wrapped up in his own mortification over how stupid he is that he easily lets you. 
“I don’t…s-sorry!”
Your voice breaks as you stumble over your unnecessary apology and even while you refuse to meet his gaze, he can see how quickly your eyelashes are fluttering as you try to blink back the tears that he’s caused.
“Night, Osamu,” you manage to say through a soft sniffle before hurrying towards the steps of your building.
The only thing worse than the panic and anger that he’s feeling towards himself is whatever it is that you’re feeling. You opened yourself up to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and trusting that he would keep your heart safe.
And he was too much of an idiot to be able to offer his own heart in return. 
He just needs to get the words out. Just get the words out.
Just get the fuckin’ words out, ya big fuckin’ pussy.
Relief floods through his veins when he’s finally able to blurt your name as he calls after you. He can fix this. He can tell you that he loves you and that he was just so elated that he was physically incapable of putting any words together. 
You stop, your foot on the bottom step as you turn towards him. While your eyes are shining with tears, he can also the hope in them as you silently plead with him to continue. 
A deep breath releases from his lungs. He hasn’t ruined it yet. You’re willing to listen to him. You’ll give him a chance to make things right and prove to you that he deserves you. He’s so fucking grateful to you. 
“Thank you!”
He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Maybe a car will pass by and run him over. Could he be lucky enough for a freak thunderstorm and to be struck by lightning? When nothing happens, he contemplates dropping to his knees and banging his head repeatedly against the concrete sidewalk. 
All of it would feel better than watching how quickly he’s shattered the last remaining pieces of hope that you were desperately clinging onto. You stay still just long enough for him to see your lower lip tremble before you dart up the stairs of your building.
And because of how the stupid apartment buildings in this country are designed, he gets a perfect view of you racing up the exterior staircase and then towards your apartment, pausing only to unlock the door, which then slams loudly shut behind you. The sound echoes through the quiet street, reverberating against the pavement and buildings, but also in his mind. 
Osamu takes a slow, deep breath and holds it before exhaling. He then buries his face his hands, his fingers tugging at his hair, and lets out an unintelligible scream that’s filled with a nauseating mixture of frustration and embarrassment. The noise is louder than the slamming of your door and a dog starts to bark in the distance. 
In a daze, he somehow manages to make it to his bus stop. Likewise, his phone is now somehow held up against his ear. And somehow, Atsumu’s screeching voice answers on the other end.
“Thank you?” he greets angrily and Osamu loudly groans as he slumps forward so far that his head is practically between his knees. “My best friend, the woman yer totally in love with, says she loves ya and all ya can do is thank her?”
“I was just so excited, I couldn’t think straight. I’m a fuckin’ idiot. I know, okay?” he mumbles. He hears a bus pull up to the curb but he’s too distraught to even look up and see if it’s his as he lets it pass. “She already told ya?”
“She’s on the other fuckin’ line right now, crying because of you, ya scrub,” Atsumu bites back and somehow, after everything that’s happened in the past ten minutes, Osamu manages to feel even worse. 
There’s a long pause and his guilt and mortification must be so bad that his brother can hear it through the phone because Atsumu gives a sigh of pity.
“Look, just make it right. We share the same DNA. Ya must have gotten a little bit of my ability to be romantic.” 
In any other situation, Osamu would scoff and roll his eyes. But right now, he doesn’t have the right to make fun of anyone, not even his twin. Instead, he simply nods even though Atsumu can’t see it over the call. 
“Can ya find out what time her train gets in tomorrow?” he asks pitifully. 
“Okay, sure,” the setter offers before sighing again. “I gotta go.”
“Yeah, don’t keep her waitin’.” 
He wonders if you know that it’s him Atsumu is talking to. You must. But Atsumu is a pretty good liar, much better than Osamu anyway. He’s had plenty of practice lying over every little thing under the sun since they were young. Surely, he can convince you that it was a teammate or his agent or anyone else but the man responsible for your distress.
“Same goes for you, Samu,” Atsumu warns him, but there’s at least a gentle undertone of sympathy in his voice that he probably only extends because they shared a womb.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling truly grateful to his brother in a way he hasn’t felt since he set the two of you up.
“I think ya said that enough tonight, ya scrub.” Atsumu then ends the call and Osamu’s gratitude dwindles. 
But Atsumu does come through for him, texting him the information on your train, which Osamu reacts to with a mere thumbs up, knowing that any form of thanks will have him being called a scrub for the third time that night. 
The next day, Osamu closes the shop early. It’s for the better as he keeps getting orders wrong and has to offer so many discounts in apology that if he stayed open any later, he would probably end the day at a loss. 
His mind has been so preoccupied that there’s no room left in it for onigiri. All he’s been able to think about is his plan to make it up to you. He’ll go home and change into his nicest suit. He’ll go to the florist and buy the nicest bouquet they have. He’ll stop by the bakery near your apartment on the way and order a slice of your favorite cake. 
And then you’ll come home to find him waiting for you outside of your building, where he’ll give you the speech he spent all day on. He’ll tell you how sorry he is and explain how much of an idiot he was and tell you that of course, he loves you. He’s even written down exactly what he wants to say on an order sheet from the restaurant so he doesn’t forget a word.
But apparently, the universe has decided that it wants to laugh even more at his expense. 
Everything starts smoothly. Despite not having worn it in over a year, his suit fits as perfectly as it did when he bought it. And after a quick iron, it looks like he just picked it up from the dry cleaner. When he arrives at the flower shop, the kindly older woman working there helps him make a custom bouquet filled with flowers that all represent some form of love and apology. 
It’s at the bakery where things start to go wrong. 
First, it’s so late in the afternoon that the display window is picked clean over. Your favorite cake has sold out entirely and all that’s left are a variety of croissants, donuts, and croquettes. He stupidly decides to buy a donut anyway, because although the image of him giving you a donut is much less romantic, he’s always believed that food is the best way to show you care about someone. 
Then, just as he’s finished paying and in his rush to make sure he gets to your apartment before you do, he runs right into a teenager holding a bright green melon soda, which spills all over the front of his clean, white dress shirt. The girl gasps in horror and immediately begins to apologize, repeatedly bowing as she offers him the napkins in her hand.
However, he knows it was his fault and that he can’t make another girl cry in less than 24 hours. He assures her that she wasn’t to blame and after patting his shirt dry to the best of his ability, he buys her a new drink and then helps the employee clean up the spill. He leaves the bakery with a squished donut and an obscenely green, large stain on his shirt. 
And of course, he gets one block away from the bakery when it starts to rain. It’s not the soft, romantic drizzle that he’s imagined might color such an important moment in your relationship. It’s a true downpour that has people ducking into stores and under doorways. For just a moment, he considers stopping at a konbini and buying an umbrella but he’s already drenched and when he sees how long the line is, he decides that it wouldn’t be worth it if he has to miss you. 
It’s another block away from the konbini that the bag holding the donut breaks, dropping the baked good into the gutter where it’s quickly washed away by the rainwater. As he looks at the soggy remains of the bag in his hand, he decides not to worry about it and shoves the mess into his pocket. The flowers are enough on his own.
The flowers, which he’s just now realizing aren’t in his hand and weren’t with him at the bakery. The flowers that he remembers setting down on the bench at the bus stop but doesn’t remember picking back up when he got onto the bus. 
The voice in his head is frantic as it tries to assure him that everything is fine. If you really love him then you don’t need flowers or baked goods or him in a dry, unstained suit. You’ll love him just as he is when you find him waiting to greet you after a long day.
He’s thankful that the sound of rain falling is loud enough to mask the panicked, high-pitched whine he lets out when he turns the corner onto your block to find that you’ve beaten him to your place and are already standing on the bottom step of your building’s staircase, protected from the rain as you shake the worst of the water from your dripping umbrella. 
There’s the smallest part of him that wants to just go back home and hide beneath the blankets like he used to do after losing a volleyball match. 
But then, without his consent, your name leaves his lips and his feet begin moving on their own to meet you. You freeze mid-umbrella shake and look up at him in shock, clearly not having expected him, and definitely not in this state if the way your eyes widen is anything to go by. 
Your senses come back to you quicker than his did to him last night and you open your umbrella back up and rush out to meet him, hurrying to finally protect him from the rain.
“Osamu, what are you doing? It’s pouring,” you say with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. You look him over from head to toe and frown. “Why are you so green? You look like you spilled a melon soda all over your shirt.”
It’s okay. He still has his speech. He’ll win you over with his words. Whether it was volleyball or opening his own restaurant, when has he ever given up?
Instead of answering you, he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out the order slip. He’s relieved that it’s held up better than the bakery bag and vows to keep buying order pads from the same supplier for the rest of his life. 
At least until he unfolds the paper and finds that the ink he wrote in has run because of the rain that soaked through his jacket. His shoulders sag as he sighs in defeat. 
“Osamu?” you ask with a timidness he hasn’t heard from you before and it’s enough to snap him from his own wallowing. His idiocy left you in tears last night.
The flowers, the suit, the pastry, the speech, this entire big, grand gesture he was trying to make all boil down to one thing.
“I love ya,” he says and it feels so good to finally be able to say the words aloud to you for the first time. It feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest, leaving room for how big his heart has grown with all the love it holds for you. “I’m so sorry about last night. I’ve been in love with ya since, like, our third date but I knew I’d seem crazy if I said it that early. And when ya said it first, I just couldn’t believe it and I was so stupidly happy that I just couldn’t say anything.” 
Now that he’s started talking, the words won’t seem to stop. But from the way you’re looking up at him with so much warmth and affection and love, he doesn’t think you want him to.
“And then I started to panic because I couldn’t say anything, which made it harder to say anything else. So, I came up with this big plan to win ya back with flowers and cake and a big speech but literally everything went wrong.”
“Osamu,” you try to gently interrupt him, but by this point, he couldn’t hold anything in even if he wanted to.
“I forget yer flowers at the bus stop and the bakery was out of cake. Then I almost made this teenager cry so I had to make that right. And of course, this fuckin’ monsoon had to sweep in outta nowhere. And my speech got all ruined, too,” he complains, holding out the order sheet for you to see the proof. 
“Osamu,” you try again. Only he’s too wrapped up now in this bizarre, stream-of-consciousness monologue to even take in the adoring way that you’re looking at him.
“If it was gonna rain, couldn’t it at least have been a soft, romantic type of rain? But I guess nothing says romance like a flash flood warning. It’s a good thing ya live on a higher floor with how much it’s comin’ down,” he continues. “All this little love confession is missing are some warning sirens—”
“You love me?”
The question finally shuts him up. But it’s a different kind of silence than the one from last night. Because you look so utterly happy as the three words occupy the space between you. His own expression softens and he crumples up the paper in his hand before shoving it into his pocket. 
His hand now free, he tenderly cups your face and presses the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips as the rain continues to come down in sheets around you, only your small travel-size umbrella keeping you both safe. 
As his lips part from yours, he rests his forehead on yours, an almost mirror image how you two were wrapped up in each other last night. 
“Yeah, I love ya,” he whispers as he affectionately brushes his nose against yours. You smile back at him and his heart pounds with excitement at hearing you repeat the sentiment back to him. 
But then, your eyes begin to sparkle mischievously as they always do when you tease him.
“Thank you,” you say and he thinks he’s somehow managed to fall even further in love with you.  
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Note
Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?
Hi, sorry for taking so long, but I am very grateful for your patience!
Here you go...
Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?
I would like to state that I’m assuming you meant Martian Manhunter and not Miss Martian, but in the case that I am wrong and you meant Miss Martian let me know and I’ll add her to this or write a super-long essay of your guy’s relationship or something!
As always please do not copy my work in any way, shape, or form. Thanks!
Warnings: none i think... not spell checked...
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Bruce Wayne
Dating Bruce Wayne? Gotham’s favorite Billionaire and the Batman? Wow, good luck.
There is a lot of angsty shit in your relationship. Keep in mind it’s not like you guys have like crazy issues or anything, not to say that the Joker isn’t a crazy issue, but I mean that you don’t actually fight with each other a lot. 
You disagree quite a bit considering you watch him on monitors and he goes out and actually gets hurt, but all of that frustration and worry comes from a place of care.
However, you didn’t talk to him for days when he decided to let Dick join him in the field. You were beyond upset, especially since you knew the dangers of crime-fighting yourself, seeing as you used to be a vigilante. 
Regardless of that, it was Dick that convinced you to cut Bruce some slack. Eventually, you came to agree with the teenager, but only after you kicked Bruce where the sun doesn’t shine.
On a nicer note, definitely lots of gifts coming from his end even though he is called the dark knight.
Even when you were both playing hero and he didn’t know who you were under the mask he gave you little gadgets. You two had also met outside of hero-ing and in your real lives where he constantly graced you with the treat of coffee and/or donuts. 
He likes to get you nice treats and sweets. He knows you don’t care for expensive gifts, especially since you work for a lot of nonprofits.
As for PDA on a scale, I will give you a 7.5/10. A solid 2.5 for physical affection such as hand holding, forehead kisses, whispering in each other's ears, and being a little too close to each other but not so close that you freak out everyone else around you.
As for that leftover 5 on the scale, holy shit do you guys never shut up. The constant flirting is where most of this score comes from. Saying embarrassing and inappropriate shit anywhere and everywhere is common with you. You tease each other relentlessly and enjoy seeing the other squirm. It can be quite uncomfortable for others around you, but you tend to keep the more spicy comments quieter, which leads to all of your odd whisperings.
You sort of live with him…? You guys are most often at his place, but you did decide to keep your own just because you wanted something that you paid for and could afford unlike his gigantic fucking manor.
Bruce cares for you deeply and understands why you want to keep your independence and have at least something of your own, especially considering that you guys work together often.
You are close with all of his family, including each kid he adopts, takes in, or has under his proverbial wing. In fact, you kind of think they prefer you over him, or at the very least Jason definitely does. 
It might also be common sense now that Alfred also likes you more than Bruce because, in your guys' relationship, you have all of the brain cells and are logical. 
You both can be impulsive and rude. You both can come across as very blunt and private people. You work well together despite everything.
You were very glad in the end that you both found someone so supportive and understanding. 
You both were also glad that you had the guts to kiss him because, honestly, he was never going to make the first move without it being an epic disaster.
Dick Grayson
Yay! Okay, this guy and you wow. May I just say couple goals here. Like yes, wonderful, perfect together.
Will you go off on someone for hurting his feelings? Count on it. Whether it is physically fighting or verbally berating someone, you also support everyone’s favorite Blue Bird.
Cute nicknames? Yes, as I stated previously, Blue-Bird, you know because he had been Robin and then he became Nightwing, and Nightwing’s suit is black and blue. Also, his eyes are blue and they look so pretty you could stare at them all day. Also, often used but none as creative as Blue-Bird, sweetheart, darling, cutey, and love.
His pet names for you, are Darling, beautiful, sweetie, bundle of too much adorableness, most wonderful human being to ever exist, my reason for getting out of bed every morning, and love. It is obviously a wonderful mixture of names, and yes, sometimes you do worry about him.
I mean how could you not, you were there since he became Robin, you comforted him through every phase, from being a rebellious teen by denouncing Bruce, becoming Nightwing, forming his own group of heroes, and making the obvious mistake of wearing tights as a part of his costume (that one was particularly hard for you).
I will now rate your PDA, congrats you have received a 6/10. You guys like to give small face kisses (forehead, top of the head, cheek, nose, temple, etc.), you guys give each other small pecks on occasion, and always say ‘I love you’ when one of you has to leave. You hold each other's hands a lot. You guys are very sweet and very wholesome. The only time you aren’t is when you get reunited after a long time (2+ weeks) or a life-threatening thing happens (which is pretty often, I’m not going to lie). 
When you reunite do you share that time slowed down and you are running to each other with the wind in your hair moment before frantically grasping one another to share a passionate kiss. 
Sometimes he will tickle you and pick you up just to spin with you. This happens quite a lot and the two of you often have tickle fights.
You get along with his family, but you have no trouble standing up to them for him. You will fist fight with Jason and tell Tim to ‘shut up and go to sleep’. If Damian starts talking crap you won’t physically hit the child, but you will steal away his pets with treats, which annoys him because food > him.
You will scream at Bruce if necessary. Dick and his adoptive siblings will have to physically pick you up to get you away from the situation.
You guys never fight, except when you eat the last of each other’s ice cream. 
Jeez, you two are so cute together.
Jason Todd
You met early on but got together a few years after his death.
He used to annoy the shit out of you, but the events involving the Joker led you both in the same direction.
You both have a better understanding of each other than anyone else. You are field partners and the only real anti-heroes of Gotham.
You were quick to share an apartment once you both learned each other’s civilian names.
It is easier than you both expected to fall into a rhythm, which only made it easier to go from something platonic to something romantically domestic.
You never seemed to get in each other's way and could somehow calm the other down when the world became a little too quiet or loud. You both rarely slept in the separate beds you had brought and maneuvered into the one bedroom. In fact, neither of you really slept on a bed. 
Most nights you stayed up as late as you could and either returned home and passed out on the couch or watched tv till 3 am, cuddling, and passed out on the couch.
You guys are a little different than others. PDA is more of healthy ways to deal with trauma mixed with a little codependency (but nothing terrible, sometimes shit just gets hard for you both and you have some really off days). Hand holding, back rubs, hugs, and playing with each other's hair and hands are just ways to calm each other.
But back to PDA. Yes. 9/10. You will both totally make out in front of other people spontaneously without a care in the world. He tends to initiate it, but you certainly never have an issue with it.
After all of the shit you two have been through you don’t really care about other people’s comfort around you because you feel safe with each other and are each other's security blankets.
Pet names are definitely common. It is probably the most annoying thing he does when you work together fighting crime. You always hated how he was so arrogant and acted childish when he was Robin. Now he just calls you pet names and flirts ceaselessly with you while you fight together. He will call you sweetheart, darling, beautiful, gorgeous, love, my love, love of my life, and more when you are in the field. He calls you them outside of your night shift too, but that does not annoy you at all. 
You tend to use many of the back, if not all of them, because he means just as much to you. 
He always makes the most adorable face when you cradle his head and call him beautiful. Like this is the softest he will ever be with someone else and he just looks so small and cute and in need of a hug.
If he annoys you, expect gifts in the form of food and drinks. If you annoy him, expect to give him extra hugs and books. 
Yes, you read together, cuddling. Typically different books, but he acts as your personal heater and you love it.
Coffee shop dates, take-out-stay-in dates, and video game dates are to be expected. Also, pastries on top of buildings in the middle of the night are a great pastime.
Also, one last thing, just to mention, you are the only one allowed to use or even touch his guns.
Martian Manhunter
Telepathically communicating, yayyyyyyyy! Okay maybe too soon with that one. But really, expect to be snorting in a silent room as everyone looks at you like you're crazy except for him because he’s smiling fondly at your reaction. 
You two are very sweet together. You help the Justice League with PR stuff, so you talk with the group of heroes all the time.
You often work with the big names and more controversial people in the League, but you work with everyone when you need to.
Also, J’onn can fly so expect to be carried in his arms all the time. He won’t even think about it twice because why would he take you somewhere in a car when he can literally swoop you off your feet bridal style and fly off as you look up at him in complete adoration.
For the moment you’ve all been waiting for, PDA rating. I would say 3/10 in public and 6/10 in private. By that I mean outside world public and the justice hall, mount olympus, etc. as private. In your guy’s place he’s just a cuddle bug or a second cat because yes he bought you a cat for one of your anniversaries.
He cooks you dinner. You join him often, but like he loves to cook you dinner. You think it is really sweet, but he also loves to learn different earthly activities. That and M’gann sends him recipes she thinks you’ll like (and you always love them).
You once made him chocolate cake by the way and now he has a new favorite thing. He loves it and didn’t stop talking about it for months. 
He likes to hold your hands a lot. Sometimes when one of you is stressed the other reaches out in hopes of grounding them before they overthink. It’s very sweet and you both love the gesture.
You sort of also took M’gann under your wing when she first arrived and it melted yours and J’onn’s hearts when she first called you her aunt/uncle. At this point you're like the mom of the YJ and the go to friend for the league. It’s all very sweet but sometimes J’onn feels like the League is hogging you and ‘has to’ drag you away from everyone quite literally, which goes a little something like this:
“Oh, but J’onn, I was having a lovely conversation with Bruce.” “Oh, I’m very sorry, Y/n, but we really have to go,” as he starts to pull you out of the room. “Alright, sorry Bruce we can talk, more some other time?” Once you both make it out of the room you release a breath, “Dinner?” “Yes.” “Great because I’m hungry and Bruce was gnawing my ear off.” After that you both just laugh.
Dinner goes great by the way and you share chocolate cake at the end before going home to cuddle with your cat and watch baking and cooking shows.
Wally West
Just to get it out there, you show your guys affection through food and physical touch 
You make Wally whatever you can cook and make a lot of it for his boosted metabolism. You also order extra pizza for him.
He tries to bake you your favorite desserts but sometimes lacks the patience and other times he eats half of it.
He typically just always buys you your favorite snacks and desserts. Even then he always ‘sneaks’ a bite.
Your PDA is surprisingly low, but as he matures it definitely increases. Like Dick had told you all those years ago it took a while to get used to Wally eating.
I would rate you a 2/10 at the beginning of your relationship and an 8/10 when at your best. (basically Young Justice S1 Wally compared to S2)
You are always touching each other. I don’t mean in an inappropriate way, but considering it is Wally that isn’t unheard of, just not often done in public.
On top of that, he will carry you everywhere, superspeed, normal speed it does not matter. Hand holding always, hugging always. He just wants physical contact. And piggy backs.
But like also, his pickup lines. I repeat his pickup lines. They are so cheesy and corny and you find them endearing somehow. I mean I do too, he is a sweetheart so yeah.
He treats you so well too. Your well-being matters so much to him and if you need something, he will be there in like 3 seconds regardless of where he is.
Nicknames should be expected: whatever you do, whatever you like he finds a way to make it a nickname. He does use babe a lot, but it feels a little basic so he comes up with new one's all the time. Sometimes they stick and other times you choke on air, but the scientific method says that you will fail and retry so it doesn’t phase him.
For the record though, he is Wally so a lot of his nicknames are food based: honey, cupcake, sugar cube, sweet potato, and more.
If you nerd out with him he will never, I repeat, never let you go. 
Also if you wear his merch he will be all over you. Depending on the situation and the place it might get a little spicy, but in most cases he will wrap his arms around your middle and just hold you tightly as he falls back into a chair or couch or something. He will not let you go and will nuzzle his face into your neck for hours. For someone that is so fast and gets bored so easily, he will never want any of this to end. 
Clark Kent
Yeah, you know. You knew. You were well aware of who he was. One single pair of glasses did not fool you. I mean, you didn’t say anything until like the seventh date, but you knew.
Yay, lucky you are normal, in fact, you do not play hero in your free time, but you do have some abilities.
You blame the particle accelerator explosion that occurred in your last home for your abilities. But they were easy to hide and really helped with your job.
You are a psychologist/part-time therapist. You met Clark through an interview you did about the effects of the most recent attack in Metropolis on the citizens' mental health. You had to fight for this article to even exist, but you did so because you could feel the fear that radiated throughout it. 
You did everything you could to provide as much help and information as you could on the topic. Clark had been the photographer for the interview and you both immediately hit it off.
He asked you out to dinner when you stopped by his office to discuss doing another article. Clark said that to celebrate the occasion he could take you out if you wanted.
You said yes because free dinner was nice and he seemed like a good guy, so you thought why the heck not?
Of course, the date went well and you highly enjoyed his company. He asked you out again and said yes.
On your third date, he had to leave early for whatever reason, and then a minute later Superman flew by and started to stop a robbery a block away. Interested, you got as close as you could and were very shocked when you saw Superman’s face. 
You didn’t mention it, but he had the same aura with the slightest bit of guilt that you thought was likely toward leaving you mid-date.
Once he knew you knew he eased up a lot and told you all about his past and Krypton and his powers and his hero-ing. 
You guys have great communication, which is in part due to your empathic abilities. You can always tell when something bothers him and he is more than willing to talk through whatever troubles him. You do the same understanding that you both thrive off of honesty with each other.
Conversation always comes easy. 
Some activities you like to do together are going out for dinner, movie nights, baking, picnic dates, and annoying Bruce Wayne.
Your PDA scale would be like a 4/10 at most. You are very sweet with each other, but sometimes you both find it odd being extra coupley with others around you. Since Clark has super hearing he can tell when people are uncomfortable and since you have your empath abilities you can feel it too. Other people’s moods also affect yours in general so the more people there are the more overwhelmed you feel so you try to avoid anything more than a quick peck on the cheek. 
However, it is still very obvious you two are together because you spend a lot of time with each other and go to lunch together basically every day.
Around the Justice League, you can be a little more open with your affections but you both still prefer privacy.
Nicknames: yes. There are some of the basics: darling, dear, love, etc. Clark particularly likes calling you my dear and you enjoy calling him sweetheart. Sometimes you joke around when he enters a room and you say, “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s my boyfriend, Clark Kent.”
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a-simple-imagine · 1 month
Text
Too Cute to be Angry
Synopsis: A night spent talking to politicians and alt right superheroes is enough to drive anyone crazy but it's sister sage that puts you over the edge
Pairing: Victoria Neuman x fem!supe!reader (feline shifter)
Words: 3k+
A/N - self ingulgent little cat girl fic with my favourite supe written entirely for myself :)
WARNINGS - swearing, brief mention of murder and homophobia
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Victoria Neuman was the busiest woman you know. if she wasn't spending her days in meetings or on Zoom calls, she was attending interviews or making speeches. she was a very driven woman. had big goals. ones you could hardly even fathom but not from lack of trying. you wanted to be part of her world but at the same time, it was so difficult to comprehend. it's not as simple as black and white. the people she surrounded herself with weren't always the best and for the most part, it's clear she tries to keep you out of it. possibly some misguided attempt to protect you.
it was a rare afternoon that was cleared just for you. nobody else around. no work calls or meetings. just the two of you sharing a quiet moment. laying on the couch with your head in her lap.A delicate hand scratches behind the feline ears that live upon your head. it feels good; and calming.a sluggish but continuous rhythm that was drawing you to drowsiness. She wouldn't mind. it wouldn't be the first time nor the last that you fell asleep on her.
"babe,"
"yeah?"
"how would you feel about going out tonight?" the answer was no. it was always going to be no. you were too content with a quiet evening to suddenly have plans thrust upon you.
"Where?" you question anyway and her hand slows.
"Tek knights." a mumbled answer that your ears pick up loud and clear. she couldn't be serious right now. there is absolutely zero reason why she would be going to see Tek Knight for anything but business and she already promised you no business tonight. it was just gonna be the two of you.
"Are you... serious?"
"some fancy party."
"no," replied snappily. "dude is creepy."
"When have you ever met tek knight?"
"once actually," you state, moving yourself up to look at her. "and he was fucking weird- asked inappropriate questions about my tail." you swish your tail, gently grazing it against her cheek.
"Well, you can just avoid him all night," Victoria insists, shoving your tail away. "I'd really like you to come."
"no thank you, can you go back to scratching behind my ears now." you lay back down.
"no,"
a heavy sigh. "Victoria," whined softly, as you nuzzled into her lap. you're tempted to gently bite her thigh but you don't. that would not help your case right now. "please?"
"if you agree to come I'll give you all the ear scratches you want."
"that's not fair."
"I need a buffer for when I can't take it anymore and that's you," she gives your side a firm pat. "I got you something pretty to wear."
"how pretty," mumbled against her legs.
"very," that meant expensive. you groan, stretching your arms and legs before sitting up. she raises a curious brow that makes you roll your eyes. She wasn't going to let this go.
"fine but you owe me," she places her hand on your head, ruffling your hair, making sure to get behind the ears. you naturally lean into her touch. this was gonna be a very long night.
Tek Knight lives in a mansion. like an actual massive mansion that's old and creepy but also kind of cool. gothic in nature and not an ounce of homeliness to its name. Victoria annoyingly leaves you alone pretty quickly and you're forced to find your own source of amusement. music plays as background noise and there really isn't anything to do here other than touch ornaments or talk with Republicans. She didn't tell you this was gonna be a party filled with right-wing nuts but here you are anyway. conversing with old white men about reproductive rights and how gay people are fine but need to stop shoving their lifestyle down Americans' throats. you observe the party from the corner of the room. helping yourself to the hors d'oeuvres as trays rush by. It's always a wonder why they don't just have actual food at these events or at least something a little less fancy. something actually tasty.
"you're Neuman's girl, right?" it's not inherently wrong so you allow the nickname especially when you realise who it comes from. she has never tried to hide your relationship but she hardly advertised it either. can't scare off the voters or whatever. you don't mind. you're not exactly in a rush to be hounded by the general public. Homelander stands beside you; strong and tall in his red, white and blue super suit. You've never been next to such a powerful supe before excluding Neuman. he was intimidating in real life.
"homelander," you declare obviously. you're not sure what else to say here. Victoria speaks about him a lot. he's also in the news all the time. you very recently watched him on TV. "I saw your trial," blurted out before you thought of the consequences. he probably didn't like to talk about him murdering a man.
"so you saw that I was found innocent,"
you nod a little. he'd been found not guilty despite the overwhelming evidence which was kind of insane but also expected. "Vicky says you should have been locked up," you agreed.
"and what do you think?" he turns his whole body towards you and you do the same. such intense eyes it's almost like he's looking right through you. you may be a supe but you were hardly on his level. Victoria says he's kinda unstable these days and anything can set him off so you try to think of something safe to say.
"I think... your eyes are really fucking blue- no wonder fascists love you," he smiles. you don't know if it's amusement or menacing but surely he understands you're joking. and if not, he likely won't attack at this fancy little party.
"calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."
"What makes you think I'm worried." he wasn't a mind reader that you knew for sure.
"your heartbeat," he replies. "but mostly the ears," the blonde points to the cat ears on the top of your head. "anyone else would call it cute," and with that, he walks away. he was a... confusing man. even from that short interaction, you can tell he can be elusive. alone once more you decide to go in search of a drink but it isn't long before Victoria is at your side.
"hi baby," you're happy to see her. you hope it means you can go home soon.
"hey,"
"What did he want?"
"Who? homelander?" why did she care? "just chatting about his trial and how cute I am."
"how cute you are?" she repeats back slowly.
"Hmm it's no surprise- everyone is obsessed with me so."
"you are adorable,"
a very bright exaggerated smile, showing your canines before your face immediately falls. "can we go yet?"
"you promised you'd hold out a couple of hours," and it was starting to feel like a lifetime.
"and I have," you groan dramatically.
"It's barely been an hour,"
"y'know, I literally got told women have too many rights," you reply. "too. many. rights- what does that even mean?"
Victoria sighs softly. "I know they can be... opinionated but just suck it up for me okay? it'll be over before you know it,"
"I wanna go now,"
"I know," she runs a gentle hand along your back. "but this is important."
"why is it so important?"
"I- I can't tell you that right now," Victoria replies. She never told you anything. it was always just important calls or important meetings or important parties. it made you want to roll your eyes. "just please behave for me," you put on a pout. "and I'll take you to the nice restaurant with the fancy cakes you love,"
"Really?" said cautiously. when in doubt she'll bribe you. not because she doubts you'll do it for free but rather as an insurance policy. better safe than sorry.
"Always so easy," she chuckles. "you gotta work on keeping your ears in check. perked right up when I said that,"
you frown a little, reaching up to cover your ears with your hands. "stupid ears."
"It's cute," she hums softly, a kiss placed against your temple.
"I hate you," said sharply.
"Just... mingle or something." Victoria pats your shoulder before leaving you alone again. you follow her with your eyes as she walks up to some old man. you decide to go for a walk and find that drink you were after.
"you arrived with Neuman," stated matter of factly. sister sage walks up from behind you. you cover your mouth as you finish the little pastry you stole off a tray.
"Sister Sage," mumbled through a mouthful before you swallowed. "newest member of the seven- I heard you're like the smartest woman ever."
"smartest person," she corrected.
"smartest person," you repeat. "what's someone so smart doing in a place like this?"
"we're surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the United States of America right now," Sage explains. you know on some level that should mean something to you but you hardly feel excited or proud. quite the opposite. you were in a room with some of the worst people in the United States of America. Almost all of them are against the very things you are.
"but not the nicest," you grab a champagne flute as it passes by, taking a long-needed sip of bubbly liquid.
"nice only gets you so far," she continues. "you're probably the nicest person here but also the least important."
wow. okay. rude. "I wouldn't call myself the least important."
"I would," she replies. "even the waiters are of more value right now. you're just Neuman's basically pet, cute but useless."
you're not sure what to say to that. is that why Victoria never shared anything with you? didn't think you were important? just a pet to be paraded about like some cute little mascot in her parade for power? "I'm not her pet."
"how do your ears and tail work? they're biological right?" the question catches you a little off guard. such a change.
"uhhhh shouldn't the smartest person alive be able to figure that out?"
"you're a shifter but only into a feline," her eyes trail over you like this was some sort of interview or examination. "do you keep the ears for aesthetic purposes? surely, you can get rid of the cat ears and tail."
"you'd think," you shrug. "but no, I'm cursed to be every nerdy incels wet fantasy." the cat ears and tail were considered cute by many, disgusting by others and a fetish by too many. for a long time, vought used you in a lot of advertisements and commercials until you quit. you still occasionally do some ads and stuff for extra cash. Not often do people see a real-life cat girl. a hand snakes across your back and you instinctively jerk away before realising it's Victoria. "hey,"
"Can we talk?" she wears the fakest smile ever.
"hmm," sage hums. you quirk your brow.
"What?"
"Nothing," she insists. "you have the exact dynamic I would expect. don't mind me." you'd ask what she meant but she is already walking away and Victoria is leading you in the opposite direction.
"what's up?" you wonder.
"I don't want you talking to sister sage."
"why?".
"Can you listen to me for once?"
"for once?" all you do is listen to her. this whole night was for her. "I'm here listening to old men tell me I deserve to go to hell for you. this is worse than that political banquet where that man followed me around the whole night and kept trying to pet me." you huff.
"you don't think I haven't thought about popping my own head every time one of these rich idiots tries to talk to me about reproductive health?" her voice is quiet but stern. she's trying not to cause a scene. "but I put up with it so just suck up. it's important."
"oh really? never would have guessed." you roll your eyes. "I'll just go sit in the corner and stare at the wall since I'm not important enough."
"That's not what I said,"
"no I get it, don't worry," you force a smile and brush past her. "I'll be a good kitty."
it's a quiet ride home. silent even. staring out the window as bright lights zoom past. you can hear Victoria chatting on the phone. much too busy to take note of your angry brow or vacant stare. you're angry at her. Sage's words weren't helping either. playing over and over in your mind. cute but useless. you couldn't necessarily disagree. Even Vought just wanted you because of how you looked. sure you had enhanced strength and senses but that was only compared to humans. there were plenty of much stronger supes. there were even more useful shifters. you just became a cat. agile. sneaky. but ultimately just a common house pet.
"Are you gonna pout all night?" Victoria eventually asks as you pull up outside her home. it pissed you off more.
"I'm sorry, I thought I wasn't allowed to speak." replies sharply as you exit the vehicle; a quick slam of the door. you hear her get out the other side and follow behind.
"I didn't say you couldn't speak,"
"semantics," you huff back. maybe she didn't say you couldn't talk but she did try to control every conversation. who you could and couldn't speak to. always checking in to make sure you weren't saying the wrong thing. "I don't feel like talking."
"We need to."
you just ignore her. That was much better than an argument right now. all you wanted was a hot shower and to go to bed. As soon as you get inside, you march upstairs. She doesn't follow, instead heading towards the kitchen.
the hot water was a welcomed distraction from your otherwise terrible evening. it was supposed to just be about you too and she just couldn't help but make it all about herself. propping herself up to important people. sneaking off for private meetings that you weren't allowed to attend. you go to bed alone. she was probably downstairs working like always. you don't know how long it is before she joins you.
"you have to talk to me eventually," Victoria hums. "can't sulk in your other form forever."
whenever you fought you liked to shift. being a cat was simpler. nobody had any expectations for cats. it was like the perfect excuse to not have difficult conversations. She couldn't understand you after all but you could understand her. loud and clear. "just tell me what's wrong."
you stretch out. fluffy kitty paws morph into human hands and legs sprawled out in the darkness. you sigh softly following on to your back. Victoria is sitting on the edge, looking down at you. "I'm not your pet," growled quietly.
"I never said you were,"
"that's all anyone sees me as," you reply. "Neuman's girl. neuman's pet. cute but useless/ that's what sage said."
"that is why I didn't want you talking to her," she replies.
"but she's right," you express. "you don't treat me like we're equals. you hide stuff from me. tell me it's too important and I won't understand. I'm not a fucking child or your silly little house cat, Victoria."
"Baby," a gentle hand moves to your arm but you shake her off. Moving onto your side and away from her.
"don't."
"Okay," she retracts her hands slowly. there's a moment of silence before she continues. "I don't see you as a child or some silly cat."
"Sure you do,"
"I don't," she insists. "I'm a politician there are some things I just can't share with you-"
"but you don't tell me anything," you interrupt
"but I admit I could share with you more," she proceeds with. "I just... I try to keep you out of all that bullshit. not because I think you're stupid or useless but because it's just easier. I don't want them tearing you down to get to me,"
"But I'm willing to take it,"
"you shouldn't have to. I don't want that for you- for us." she urges. "Sage can say whatever she wants but I don't believe those things about you. You're smart, beautiful and adorable sure but you're not useless. I'm so lucky to have someone as caring and wonderful as you."
"gross," said playfully after a moment. a small smile tugs at your lips though. "Victoria?"
"mhmm?"
"I'm sorry for acting like a spoilt brat tonight,"
"I'm sorry I made you spend an evening with all those awful people," you chuckle lightly as you roll over to look at her. they really were awful people. and maybe you weren't one of the most important people in America but you were a good person. a nice person. and that was much more interesting.
"World's worst and most boring party," you voice. "how did your private meeting go?"
she hesitates. probably a debate on whether to tell you or not. "...pretty well I think."
"Vice President Neuman has a nice ring to it," you tease. smiling up at her in the darkness. a strip of moonlight crosses her face. twinkling in her pretty eyes. it was a wild thought. one day soon you could be dating the vice president of America.
"how do you feel knowing you'll be the second lady?"
"oooh so official. so important."
"you're already so important,"
"to you maybe." you huff.
"does anyone else matter?"
"you of all people saying that is crazy," you semi-tease. it was kinda true. she cared a lot about her image. about how the world saw her. "let's just go to sleep."
Victoria doesn't answer but she does lie down, shuffling up behind you. there's a slight hesitation like she's not sure if you've truly forgiven her. you move closer to her, resting your head against her chest. listening to the way her heart thumped in her chest "night."
"good night," you hum softly as you let your eyes flutter closed. "I'm gonna get so many fancy cakes tomorrow."
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cherryredstars · 4 months
Note
First off, I love you.
Second off, I love you A LOT.
Okay so I’m losing my mind over a brain vomit where younger reader’s been harboring and hiding feelings for Miguel for the sake of being appropriate and it’s starting to make her frustrated like “fuck I’m gonna get actually fucking sick and vomit” because how much she’s crushing on him is CRAZY, so reader basically goes up to Miguel like “I can’t take this anymore.” Like reject me so I can move on type of thing. “ Do me a favor, and break my nose or something. Tell me to fucking go away” or something like that. My brain is burning.
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Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader, John Price x civil!reader
Warnings: Fluff
A/N: For my baby, I LOVE YOUUUUUUU!!!
Edited (just for you boo)
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| Miguel O'Hara
If you look at him, you will actually throw up.
Like projectile 'make yourself a laughing stock' throw up. It's just the way your body- your stomach- reacts when you see him. It gets twisted, fluttery with a fix of butterflies and disgust. It's down right disgusting, inappropriate at the least. He's almost a decade older than you, yet here you are pining after him as if you're some teenage girl. You feel physically sick when you think about it for too long: throat contracting and your stomach hurting. You aren't sure which of your delusions are the cause of such a horrendous crush, but you promise you'll strangle it when you find out. There is simply no way this could have ever worked out in your favor. It's simply impossible.
Miguel O'Hara would never go for someone like you. Young and naive, haven't even reached the appropriate age to have a mid-life crisis (but you're sure this is the closest fucking thing to it). You know this, hammer it into your thick skull every day before you have to face him. Yet, it all comes crumbling down when you lay eyes on him. It takes less than a second for you to skip after him, a stupid, lovesick look flickering across your face as you help him with whatever he needs. You simply can't stay away, even if you tried. You always fall back into his orbit, gravity pushing you towards him until you're practically glued to him.
You're sure he must find it annoying. Probably relates it to something like babysitting. It's well known Miguel doesn't like to be bothered when he's working. But there you are without fail, sitting around on his platform entertaining yourself by playing with LYLA when you aren't out saving universes. You don't miss the way his eyes flick to you every now and then with some emotion you can't quite place. But if you had to guess, it's probably something close to exasperation.
In all honesty, you're tired of it.
Tired of the false hope you delude yourself into believing after every minor interaction. Tired of trying to justify your affection for the older man. Tired of feeling a bit of resentment towards yourself. You're just... tired. He must sense it when you walk onto the platform, judging by the look he shoots you.
LYLA is muted mid-sentence as he angles his body slightly away from his monitors and towards you, watching as you plop yourself in your usual spot. He waits expectantly for your usual greeting, brows furrowing with confusion when you do nothing but play with the elastic quality of your suit. You haven't even looked at him since you got in.
"Everything alright?" His all so familiar voice asks, making your stomach ache and the urge to punch yourself stronger.
"Yeah," you respond simply, silence lapping over the two of you.
Miguel waits patiently, expecting something more. But, you don't continue. Miguel hesitates for a moment before turning back around. His eyes study the screens once more, his finger hovering over the button to unmute LYLA before you speak up again.
"Can you like... degrade me or something?"
Miguel almost chokes on his spit when he turns around, not expecting you to say...that. You're still playing with your suit and staring at the floor, face painted with frustration. You look up when he doesn't answer, brows furrowed when your eyes meet his shocked face. You quickly divert your attention to his muscular shoulder, not really having the courage to face him head-on.
"Not like the... sexy kind. More like the heart wrenching kind." You clarify, not that it's any better for Miguel.
He turns to full face you this time, arms crossed over his chest as he studies you. The request doesn't really make sense to him. Why would you want him to do that? Is it some universe-exclusive culture he isn't aware of?
"Why?" Miguel asks, trying to recall your past interactions to see if they have something to do with your strange request.
"I dunno, just thought it might make it easier?" You shrug, your eyes flicking to his again and then looking towards the ceiling.
"Make what easier, exactly?"
Miguel isn't a fan of cryptic answers, but he tries to be patient with you. He watches as your face twists, unsure how to word what you're feeling. You let out a heavy sigh eventually, actually meeting his eyes and holding his gaze for once.
"To get over you."
The words cause Miguel to freeze, his body going rigid. You groan, hiding your embarrassed face in your hands and scrubbing ferociously. This is absolutely embarrassing. You wished a random portal would just appear under you, throwing you into another universe and far away from this particular moment in time.
You're so caught up in your embarrassment that you don't realize Miguel is walking over to you until he's crouched down in front of you. He pries your hands gently from your face, giving you the softest smile you have ever seen on him. His thumbs caress your wrists absentmindedly, doing nothing to calm your raging heart. It practically explodes when he leans closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes are wide and dazed as you look up at him, trying to commit the curve of his mouth to memory.
"Now, why would I want you to do that?"
_____________
| John Price
You aren't exactly sure when it started.
But the moment you realized you liked John, you've started hating yourself. It feels wrong. Almost disrespectful in a way. You aren't particularly sure why, it just does. John Price is a nice man, a good man. A man that could be easily mistaken as your father if someone didn't look close enough. The man you had happened to meet and befriended one day after he had been so kind and gentle with you.
Not the man you should be liking and forcing your feelings on.
You're someone John goes to for comfort, someone he seeks out after coming home from a battlefield. Someone that's supposed to help him distress. The idea of taking advantage of that gently placed trust, of expecting something from John just because he goes to you for help, makes you want to throw up until you're nothing but a useless husk. It's shameful, eating you up on the inside until you feel like your organs are on the verge of failure.
So your solution: Avoid Johnathan Price like the plague.
Does it hurt seeing his texts flash across your phone screen, asking you if you're free throughout the week so he can spend time with you before he deploys again? Hell fucking yes. It makes you feel guilty as hell. But you try to justify it to yourself, reassuring that it's only temporary. That everything will go back to normal once these stupid feelings leave you alone and John Price goes back to being the sweet man you grab lunch with every now and then when he's home so you can catch up.
But of course, your plans never go accordingly.
You startle on your couch when there is a firm knocking on your door, your hands rushing to pause the telly to see if it was just a hallucination. But sure enough, that same steady knocking sounds again. You get up hesitantly, brows furrowed as you try to remember if you ordered take away or something. You peak through the peep-hole, hand planted on the cool wood of the door as you squint.
The alertness in your body dies away when the familiar frame of John greets you, only to tense up again. John Price is at your door. The same John price you've been avoiding for a week. The same exact John fucking Price you're practically in love with. Your hand slides down to the knob, gulping nervously as you unlock it and yank your door open.
John is standing there with his hand raised again to knock, decked out in his military gear. His hands drop to grip the strap of his vest, his mutton chops quivering as his face lifts into his soft smile. You blink up at him, feeling the knob warm under your hand and your heart slamming against your chest. Why did he have to be so handsome, goddamnit?
You step out of the doorway, silently inviting him inside. He accepts it, stepping in and examining the area out of habit. You close the door quietly after him, turning to face him as he turns to face you.
"Missed ya, love? Been busy lately?" He asks in that comfortingly rough voice of his.
You don't trust yourself to not choke on your words, scared he'll see through your lies. Instead you nod, letting out a weak hum that he returns in a more confident note. Your eyes drop down to his military gear, a frown slipping onto your face. Is he being deployed again?
As if sensing the underlying question, John's hands let go of his military vest and he stuffs them into the pockets of his tactical pants.
"Heading out tonight, just wanted to say goodbye before I go since I didn't get to see you this time around."
You feel a stab to your chest at his words, resisting the urge to lift your hand and smooth the pain.
"John..." You start hesitantly, your mouth going dry when he hums again. "Can you tell me you hate me? Or... or that you think I'm stupid or something?"
John tilts his head in confusion, brows furrowing as his lips thin. There is a silent question in your eyes, an aura of demand wafting from him that orders you to explain further. Your hand comes to rub your arm, socked heel digging into your ankle as you debate how much to tell him.
"It's just... I like you and I don't..." You sigh in frustration, turning your head away to glare at the wall. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to take advantage of how nice you've been to me or that I expect you to reciprocate how I feel."
It's quiet for a moment before John's chuckling fills the room. Your head turns away from the wall, meeting the sparkling amusement in John's eyes as he looks at you. There is a fondness there that makes your knees feel weak, your breath getting trapped in your lungs. John takes steady, reassured steps towards you, stopping when he's centimeters away. Your heart is practically lurching in your chest as you look up at him, watching as he slowly takes off his boonie hat.
Your eyes are wide as he places it over your head, chuckling when it slips down over your face before he readjusts it. He admires the sight for a second before he leans down, his facial hair tickling your cheeks as his lips press against the corner of your mouth. Your heart officially stops, your body dangerously close to swaying as he pulls away. You're in a daze as he pinches your cheek lightly, trying to call your attention away from the sparks lingering across your skin.
"We'll take about this when I get back, silly girl." He rumbles, his heavy paw landing on the top of his hat before he slips past you, closing and locking the door behind him as he disappears out of your flat. You're left in a daze as your shaky hands reach up and grasp the rim of his hat, the smell of him instantly invading your senses.
And when John reaches base and the lads pester him about where his usual hat is, he just shakes his head and replies that he left it at home for safe keeping.
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